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YALE
UNIVERSITY LIBRARY

ONE OF THE GOPURAMS AT THIRUKLIKUNDRUM

INDIA
AND ITS FAITHS
A TRAVELER'S RECORD
BY JAMES BISSETT PRATT, PH.D.
PROFESSOR OP PHILOSOPHY IN WILLIAMS COLLEGE
AUTHOR OF
"THE PSYCHOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS BELIEF "
" WHAT IS PRAGMATISM ?"
With Illustrations

BOSTON AND NEW YORK
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
<£be SifcetjffDe pteft tfambribne
191S

COPYRIGHT, I915, BY JAMES BISSETT PRATT
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Published November rgrj

TO MY DEAR COMRADE
IN INDIA AND IN LIFE
AT WHOSE SUGGESTION THIS BOOK WAS BEGUN
AND BY WHOSE ASSISTANCE IT WAS
COMPLETED

"Passage 0 soul to India/
Eclair cise the myths Asiatic, the primitive fables.
Not you alone, proud truths of the world,
Nor you alone, ye facts of modern science,
But myths and fables of eld, Asia's, Africa's fables,
The far-darting beams of the spirit, the unloos'd dreams,
The deep diving bibles and legends,
The daring plots of the poets, the elder religions;
0 you temples fairer than lilies pour'd over by the rising sun!
0 you fables spurning the known, eluding the hold of the known,
mounting to heaven!
"Passage indeed 0 soul to primal thought,
Not lands and seas alone, thy own clear freshness,
The young maturity of brood and bloom,
To realms of budding bibles.
"Passage to more than India!
Are thy wings plumed indeed for such far flights ?
0 soul, voyagest thou indeed on voyages like those ?
Disportest thou on waters such as those ?
Soundest below the Sanscrit and the Vedas ?
Then have thy bent unleash 'd.
Passage to you, your shores, ye aged fierce enigmas!
Passage to you, to mastership of you, ye strangling problems!
You, strew'd with the wrecks of skeletons, that, living, never
reach' d you.
Passage to more than India!"
Walt Whitman.

PREFACE
and pictures like them of the other gods are to be found in al
most every Hindu home and shop and in many a native law
or business office. The picture of Zarathustra is from a com
mon Parsee print which has an honored place in nearly every
Parsee home.
It is only right that I should here express my indebtedness
to a number of friends and acquaintances without whose assist
ance this book would not have been worth writing. Most of
all am I indebted to my wife, whose quick eyes caught many
an Indian scene which but for her I should have missed, whose
criticism and suggestion have been my most trusted guides,
and who through many hours of patient work typewrote my
manuscript and made a large part of my index. Much of my
information, beside that gleaned from books and periodicals,
I owe to the following gentlemen whose acquaintance I made
in India: the Reverend W. B. Stover, of Ankleshvar; Mr.
Jivanji Jamshedji Modi and Mr. Aderji, of Bombay; Mr. Lala
Hansraj and Principal Lala San Das, of the Dayanand Anglo-
Vedic College in Lahore, and Professor S. C. Sen, of the Dyal
Singh College in the same city; Mr. Ajit Prasada, of Lucknow;
Mr. Kumar Devendra Prasad, of Allahabad; Mr. Bhagavan
Das and Dr. Toreporawalla, of the Central Hindu College,
Professor Mulvaney of Queen's College, the Reverend Mr.
Johnson , the Reverend Mr. Cape, the Reverend Father Joachim,
Mr. Seyed, Mr. Khalil-er-Rahman, all of Benares; Dr. D. B.
Spooner and Dr. Syed Mahmud, of Bankipur; Dr. Satish Chan
dra Vidyabhushan, Dr. J. C. Bose, Mr. Shivanath Shastri, and
Mr. Bipin Chandra Pal, of Calcutta; Professors St. John, Smith,
and Roberts, of the Rangoon Baptist College in Rangoon; Mr.
Taw Shin Ko and Bhikku U Nyana, of Mandalay; Mr. Haras-
gama, of Matale (Ceylon); Mr. Dharmapala and Dr. Hewa-
vitarna, of Colombo; and Dr. Jacobi, of Bonn, Germany.
I made the acquaintance of these gentlemen while Mrs. Pratt
and I were traveling in India during the autumn, winter, and
spring of 1913-14. And my gratitude is due not only to them,
but to the scores of other Indians who, whether pundits or
coolies, treated us with unfailing courtesy and real kindness. If
one rushes through India one may indeed depart with little
liking for India's swarming millions. But it is hard for me to

PREFACE
conceive how one can stay any time among them without find
ing them a truly lovable people and without imbibing genuine
respect and admiration for the simple dignity of their lives, the
quiet courtesy of their manners, their uncomplaining endur
ance of hardships, their unbounded hospitality, and the feeling
for spiritual values which, in spite of gross superstitions, is
unmistakable in the Indian atmosphere. These things — or,
rather, the memory of them — strike one, perhaps, most for
cibly after his return from the East to the familiar sights and
sounds of Western civilization. For my part, at any rate, in
the rush of our city streets and the complacent satisfaction of
our beer-gardens and our moving-picture shows, and amid the
descriptions of war and hate and horror that fill every day's
reports from Europe, I find myself thinking of the banks of the
Ganges and the silent monasteries of Burma; just as I shall tell
myself, in the midst of the snows and piercing winds which our
coming New England winter is already preparing for us, that
the Irrawaddy is still pursuing its course to the sea between
groves of flowering trees and banks crowned with golden pago
das, and that the roses are still blooming in Benares.
James Bissett Pratt.
wllliamstown, massachusetts,
October, 1015.

CONTENTS
I. On Avoiding Misunderstandings . . . i
II. Hindu Worship  15
III. The Hindu Pilgrim  34
IV. The Many Gods  46 ^
V. The One God  72 )
VI. Duty and Destiny  91
VII. The Hindu Dharma  116
VIII. Teachers, Priests, and Holy Men . . 140
IX. Reform Movements within Hinduism . . 166 \
X. The Brahmo Samaj and the Arya Samaj . 190
XI. The Radhasoamis and Theosophists . . 213
XII. The Kabir Panthis and the Sikhs . . 235
XIII. The Jainas  254
XIV. The Mohammedans  291
XV. The Parsees  318
XVI. The Buddhists of Burma and Ceylon . 340
XVII. Education and Reform  360
XVIII. The Doctrines of Modern Buddhism . 371
XIX. The Value of Buddhism and its Springs
of Power  396
XX. Christian Missions in India . . . 425
XXI. What the West might Learn . . . 463
Index  477

ILLUSTRATIONS
One of the Gopurams at Thiruklikundrum Frontispiece
Praying toward the Sun, on the Ghats, Benares 18
Sacrificial Bathing at Allahabad Mela ... 38
Relief on Face of Rock at the "Seven Pagodas,"
called "The Penance of Arjun" .... 48
Kali  64
Krishna playing his Pipe  86
The Burning Ghats, Benares  104
Holy Man on the Benares Ghats  124
Brahmin Priest  146
Holy Man on Bed of Spikes  178
Water Front at Benares  204
Temple of Kabir, at the Kabir Chaura Math,
Benares  240
Golden Temple, Amritsar  248
Jaina Temple at Delwara, Mount Abu . . . 272
Mohammedans at Prayer in the Great Mosque,
Delhi  ,  290
A Tazlah, in the Muharrum Procession, Benares 304
Zarathustra — An Idealized Picture found in Most
Parsee Homes  322
Thibetan Buddhists at Darjeeling  340
Monks and Boys Returning from Begging Trip . 352
xv

ILLUSTRATIONS
One of the Four Great Shrines at the Shway Dagon
Pagoda, Rangoon  376
Nuns at Prayer, Shway Dagon Pagoda, Rangoon 398
By an Irrawaddy Village  422
The Queen's Golden Monastery, Mandalay . . 444
Reclining Buddha, in the Jungle near Rangoon . 470

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
a traveler's record

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
CHAPTER I
ON AVOIDING MISUNDERSTANDINGS
NO, I 'm very sure he 's a heathen polytheist like the rest of
them. He does n't believe in the One God."
"But, madam, his verses certainly sound as if he did. And
you yourself said just now that some of them are filled with
genuine religious feeling."
" I know they are; that 's the surprising thing about them. I
can't understand it at all. But Tagore has many English
friends, and it must be that some of them made this selection
from his verses — and probably changed them considerably
too. You can be sure all of his poems that are not translated
into English are about Ganesha and Shiva and the rest, and
that he himself worships a lot of horrid idols when at home.
They 're all alike, these heathen. I 've lived among them for
twenty- two years and I know! "
We were on the steamer bound for Bombay, and all the pas
sengers except our two selves had lived in India for years —
most of them for twenty- two years — and were returning there
from a visit or a furlough. Every one we met knew all about
India and the Indians, so I was making use of my opportunity
to learn something from them. The missionary, whose judg
ment I had learned to respect, did not agree with the lady. He
said that many Indians of his acquaintance believed in and
worshiped the one God. But the other missionary added that,
though this might be true in one sense, it did n't do them any
good, for they didn't acknowledge the Blessed Trinity; and
without doing that who could be saved?
Meanwhile I was reading the books of Sister Nivedita, and
learning from them that the Indians were the only people who
had retained genuine spiritual religion of the deepest sort,
that the caste system merely meant Noblesse oblige, and that

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
the use of idols was really a great aid in spiritual worship and
ought, apparently, to be introduced into Europe. Somewhat
puzzled by all this I went with it to the little English major —
a charming fellow — who sat next me at table.
"Oh, you're interested in that stuff!" he said. "Well, you'll
find enough of it in India. All the natives want to talk religion
to you till you get beastly tired of it, don't you know. When
my Mohammedan officers start telling me about their Vishnu
and Krishna and all their other gods — "
"But the Mohammedans don't believe in these gods — the
Mohammedans have only one God. It's the Hindus who wor
ship Vishnu and the rest."
"Oh, it's the Hindus, is it? Well, anyhow, they're all pretty
much alike, and I 've got 'em trained now so that they know
jolly well I don't want to hear any of their religious rot."
There was a young Hindu on board, but my success in ques
tioning him was not brilliant. As I learned later, he did not
represent the majority of his fellow countrymen. He did repre
sent, however, an increasing minority of the young men who
have been brought up by liberal-minded Hindu parents and
have been sent abroad to finish their education. This boy was
seventeen and was returning from Germany where he had been
studying engineering; and either in the land of Kant or else
where he certainly had acquired a rather unusual power of sus
pended judgment. When I asked him what religion he be
longed to, he responded proudly, "I am an Aryan." Asked if
he meant by this the Arya Samaj, he looked puzzled and said,
" No." Concerning his religious faith he said, " I believe to find
out what is good and do that thing. I don't know about the
rest. Some say one thing, some another, but all agree on that,
and that is my religion so far. Some day I may find out more,
but not yet. What I find out by myself, that is my religion."
When I asked him what he had been taught about God and
about worship, he said that as a small boy he had attended a
Christian school for a time, then a school of some other religion
— he could n't remember what — and had heard a lot of things
about God and that sort of thing, but had n't understood any
of it and did n't remember any of it. Asked what he thought of
the temple worship he had seen in India, he said he did n't

ON AVOIDING MISUNDERSTANDINGS
know. Some people said one thing about God, some another.
Some said God dwelt in images and at times spoke through
certain men. He did n't know. He had seen men sit around a
sweet-smelling fire and jump up in a wild state, so that what
ever you asked them they could tell you: but whether they
told the truth at such times he did n't know. And when I asked
which were the better, the Hindus or the Mohammedans, he
said that as he himself had been brought up a Hindu he
could n't give an opinion.
So, as I have already remarked, my success in learning re
ligion from my young Hindu friend was not signal: but, at any
rate, I admired his suspense of judgment, and resolved to imi
tate it and to form no opinion of my own till reaching India
and seeing for myself.
When one lands in Bombay, the East bursts upon one like
the rise of an Oriental sun — which, as every one knows, comes
up like thunder in these parts. One feels that he has never seen
color before. The streets are alive with it on turban, coat,
skirt, loose-flowing trousers, loin-cloth, sari, and bronze and
chocolate skin: while jewelry of every description hangs from
nose and ear, and encircles neck, arm, fingers, ankles, and toes.
A never-ending stream of every caste and religion passes by one
with the silence of patient, naked feet. Those with the caste
marks so carefully painted on their foreheads are Hindus,
while the men with the strange headgear are Parsees, and most
of the bearded men are Mohammedans. Then there are a few
Jainas too, and an occasional Sikh. The scene is bewildering
and it grows the more complex as one's familiarity with it in
creases. But more bewildering than the costume, color, and
caste of this multitude are the religions which they embody.
Who shall understand these? How shall one come to any in
telligent judgment upon the faith of India?
The first lesson that one should learn is that any such judg
ment upon the " Faith of India" as a whole is impossible. Like
other countries, and even more than other countries, India is a
land of contrasts — a land of low plains and lofty mountains,
of heat and cold, of wealth and poverty, beauty and ugliness,
cleanliness of person and filthiness of clothes. In the spiritual
sphere the contrasts are even greater, so that it is impossible

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
to lump the Indians and say, They are all idolaters; or, They
are all spiritual. To the reader this must seem an absurdly un
necessary and perfectly obvious statement: and yet one will
meet with people who insist that they know India, and yet who
seem incapable of differentiating between the Vedanta phil
osopher and the magic-fearing sweeper or the animistic Bihl.
In no other country are there so many different religions or
such great contrasts of intellectual level. Hence nowhere else
is it so necessary to make distinctions and so dangerous to
indulge in sweeping general assertions.
And, more in particular, there are four points of view, or per
haps I should say four possible sources of information, which
he who would understand the religions of India should regard
with caution. Against the first of these I need hardly warn the
reader — the point of view, namely, of the native himself.
Naturally one must not believe everything that one is told by
the Indians in praise of their own religion — some of their
statements go well with a little salt. Like the adherents of
other authoritative religions, they naturally believe that theirs
is the only one truly inspired, and some of the more educated
will attempt to explain away its objectionable features by a
free use of the allegorical method. And some of them, out of
sheer loyalty to their faith, will refuse to admit the existence of
evils with which they are really well acquainted. But even if
the defender of a religion does not categorically deny the ex
istence of certain of its evils, he may, at least, — especially if
writing a book, — carefully avoid making any mention of them.
This is natural enough and is to be seen in many defenders
of Christianity and its various churches and sects. Hence, if
Vivekananda and other cultured Indians, in their books on
Hinduism, fail to mention anything in it that is unworthy, but
paint it all white, one should not blame them; but one should
not stop with them.
This trait of telling the truth but not the whole truth is a
little more surprising and a little more misleading in those
European writers who seek to give an ultra-" sympathetic"
picture of India and whose point of view is the second of the
four against which I would warn the reader. Sister Nivedita
(Margaret E. Noble) and Fielding Hall are representative of

ON AVOIDING MISUNDERSTANDINGS
the best type of these, and Mrs. Besant of the worst. Of
the latter something shall be said in another place, but of
Sister Nivedita a word here. Whoever wishes to understand
the India of to-day should read her books — particularly "The
Web of Indian Life." Probably no one else has succeeded so
happily in presenting the finer side of Indian family life, social
relationships, and religious ideals. But as one turns her fascinat
ing pages one is uncertain whether to wonder most at her in
sight into all that is best or her blindness for all that is worst in
India. Any one who has seen the unlovely aspect of Hindu
temple worship — even in her own beloved Bengal — must feel
considerable amazement at what she and others like her find in
it of vision and inspiration. But perhaps the secret is partly
given in one of her own sentences: "Living in a Calcutta lane,
the powers of the imagination revive"! And with natures as
beautiful and devoted as was Miss Noble's, the powers of the
imagination and of loving sympathy not only revive and heal
and bless, but sometimes also mislead.
Yet sympathy like Miss Noble's is essential to perfect in
sight; only, we should not stop with it. And in fact there is
little danger of most of us doing that. Much greater is the
danger that we, with our Western ideals and customs so differ
ent from those of India, should go to the other extreme and
take one of the two remaining points of view that I referred to
above. One of these is that which characterizes a certain type
(now happily decreasing) of earnest but narrow-minded mis
sionary. To people of this sort — whether in the "foreign
field" or at home — "Christianity" is "true," hence all other
religions are "false." And this being the case, one's chief duty
is felt to be the demonstration that all "heathen" customs and
beliefs are bad. The old-fashioned method of doing this, as all
my readers will remember, was to paint in lurid hues all evils
discoverable in the "heathen" religion, and to shut one's eyes
diligently to everything good in it. Most of us, I suppose, were
brought up to believe that throwing their children to the croco
diles in the Ganges was the daily entertainment of most Indian
women. But I need say no more concerning the old-fashioned
missionary book, which is so familiar to us all, and from which
our general Western idea of India up till quite recently was so
5

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
largely derived. The modern missionary book and the modern
missionary, I am glad to say, are usually of a quite different
type. Yet enough books and men and women of the old sort
are left to make it important to be on the alert against their
partial statements. As a rule what they say and write is
perfectly true; but they give only half the picture. To mention
only one book of this sort — the Abbe Dubois's "Hindu
Manners, Customs, and Ceremonies" is one of the most valu
able treatises ever written on India. Nowhere else can one get
so reliable and detailed an account of Indian life and customs
from first-hand observation. Nearly every positive statement
in the book is true; just as nearly every positive statement in
Sister Nivedita's "Web of Indian Life" is true.1 Yet the gen
eral impressions one carries away from the two books are about
as different as the impressions one has after reading the "In
ferno" and the "Paradiso." Each book is needed as an anti
dote to the other. Unfortunately I found many of the European
residents of India well versed in the abbe's book, but few had
taken any antidote; and as a result they were convinced that
immorality constituted the chief form of worship in Hinduism,
that all Brahmins were either fools or knaves, and that Indian
thought in general was utter nonsense.
And this brings me to the fourth source of information which
one should regard somewhat askance — namely, the assertions
of the superficial tourist or the non-missionary European resi
dent in India. This source is particularly dangerous, for it is so
natural to suppose that one of our own race who has traveled in
India (and especially one who has lived there "twenty-two
years") will be in a position to know all about it. They usually
think so themselves. It is the commonest thing to meet with
tourists who, having spent a month or less in India, having
visited two temples and the bathing and burning ghats, and
having made the acquaintance of a few servants at the hotels
and a few coolies at the stations, are on their way home to tell
1 Both of these books have geographical limitations as well as initial pre
judices. Sister Nivedita's personal observation is mostly confined to Bengal,
while the abbe's facts were almost entirely gathered in southern India. In
addition to this one must remember that the abbe's book was written one
hundred years ago. 6

ON AVOIDING MISUNDERSTANDINGS
their friends that they have seen India and that its inhabitants
are all degraded worshipers of stocks and stones.
The tourist's ignorance is not surprising. But it is not easy
to understand the ignorance of the average European resident
in India. Surely no one can go to the East and fail to admire
the umversal_peace, the impartial justice, and the efficient ad
ministration that England is giving India. I believe no other
nation could govern India so well, and this, I think, is the
opinion of the Indians themselves. The English judge is always
just, the English civil servant is unbribable, faithful, and effi
cient, the English official is universally regarded as the defender
of the poor; and the almost pathetic confidence manifested
by the "natives" everywhere in India toward all European
tourists speaks eloquently for the honesty and fair-dealing of
the English residents of the land. If through any chance of
war India should change masters, it would be nothing short of
a calamity for the Indian. And yet with all this, it must be ad
mitted that there are in the Englishman certain peculiarities of
temperament which constantly rub the superior Indian the
wrong way, and which largely explain the " Indian unrest " that
has been so widely advertised through the world. To sum up
in one word the root of the difficulty, the Anglo-Indian is sur
prisingly indifferent toward almost everything native. There
are, of course, many glorious exceptions. The English mission
aries, for instance, are not only intensely interested, but as a
rule well informed as to the ideas and ideals of the people to
whom they minister so devotedly. And the English civil ser
vants and business men are well acquainted with those sides of
Indian life .with which they come in contact in the performance
of their duties. But as to Indian thought, religion, traditions,
and ways of viewing things, most of the Englishmen I met
seemed to me singularly lacking in curiosity or interest. The
European colony lives by itself at one end of the town, form
ing a little England, and (except for its servants) having no
more to do with the native life than has some town in Kent or
Sussex. The whole colony will turn out to see a hundred Eng
lish soldiers from the garrison march past; but a hundred thou
sand natives may come on a pilgrimage to the town, forming
a scene which for color and picturesqueness is hardly to be

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
matched, and not a sahib or memsahib will step out of the
bungalow to see it. Many, in fact, seem to think that any such
interest in the "natives" would be derogatory to their dignity
and quite unworthy of a white man.
No one has more admiration than I for the many admirable
qualities of our British cousins nor for the devotion with which
numbers of them are giving their lives to India; yet I cannot
help feeling at least amused at the odd provincialism which
many of them so naively manifest. I remember one in Venice
who insisted that the trouble with coffee and rolls was not that
it was a poor breakfast, but that it was n't a breakfast; for a
breakfast consists of meat and potatoes. To the Englishman of
this type there are not various possible opinions or points of
view, some better, some worse; there is only one point of view,
namely, his. It is this peculiar lack of imagination that makes
dear old John Bull so positive, so straightforward, and so amus
ing: it has never occurred to him (as William James would
have put it) that the Indians "have insides of their own."
This indifference and persistent provincialism makes the
typical Briton quite blind to much that is fine in Indian society.
Thus, one English gentleman whom I met — a man who had
lived in Calcutta and other parts of the East for years — said
to me: "The natives are all just a lot of animals; don't you think
so?" I answered that my impression was quite different; that,
for instance, just the week before I had in Calcutta made the
acquaintance of two Indian gentlemen — namely Dr. Bose.and
Tagore the poet — who, compared with many of us Anglo-
Saxons, were intellectual giants. At this he was greatly as
tonished and asked who Dr. Bose might be. I told him that
Dr. Bose was one of the greatest botanists living, a man whose
discoveries are known over all the world, and who has been
invited to lecture at American and German universities and
before the Royal Society in London.
"I never heard of him," replied the Englishman: "but I
have heard of Tagore, the man who got the Nobel Prize. —
But I don't think much of his poetry; do you?"
To my response that I thought a great deal of Tagore's
poetry, he ejaculated: —
"Well, really! However, I suppose there must be something
8

ON AVOIDING MISUNDERSTANDINGS
in it since he got the Nobel Prize. But it can't be really poetry,
you know; because it does n't rhyme."
This lack of interest in native life as such, and the proud
manifestation of conscious superiority that goes with it, shows
itself in the coarser natures in a contempt for the "black man "
and a constant swagger of putting him in his place. " How do
you like the Indians?" I asked a traveling salesman of this
type, who told me that he had lived most of his life in the East.
" How do I like 'em? " was the reply. " I 'd like to expectorate
in their eyes." Vulgar brutality of this sort is not common:
but most Englishmen take good care that all "natives" shall
realize the immense abyss that extends between them and the
superior race of sahibs. To keep this impressed steadily upon
the native, no Englishman in India will carry anything in pub
lic; and one often comes upon the rather amusing picture of a
big athletic sahib pacing through the middle of the street (if,
indeed, he walks at all), a big stick in one hand and nothing in
the other, while a diminutive native follows humbly after
"Master," carrying a small book. A sahib could not carry
anything so large as a book — far be it from him! For (with
rare exceptions) every Englishman, big or little, that you meet
in India takes himself and his position very seriously, and
seems to feel that the dignity of the Empire rests upon his
shoulders and that Great Britain would be dishonored if he
should for a moment forget, or allow any one else to forget, the
proper distance between him and all natives. To maintain
the Heaven-decreed preeminence of the Briton over all black
men and heathen is his first obligation; and he is always mind
ful of the fact that England expects every man to do his duty.
As a result of this indifference to and contempt for the na
tives, most of the Anglo-Indians that I know anything about
are very ignorant concerning the religions of India and de
cidedly prejudiced against them. Personally, I think that the
opinions of nine Englishmen out of ten on the subject of Indian
religions are entirely untrustworthy. For the most part, such
opinions seem to be formed at home and brought out to India,
based on the talk of predecessors equally ignorant, and retained
without substantial revision and even without questioning.
Many of these Englishmen — most of them — are splendid

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
fellows; yet their prepossession that no good thing can come
out of Nazareth is so strong that when they come in contact
with an Indian who is head and shoulders their intellectual
superior they remain sublimely ignorant of the fact, and keep
on insisting to the end of their days that they never met a na
tive who could think. What might be called a symbolic illustra
tion of this interesting state of mind came to me at Agra. We
met there a Scotch trained nurse who had spent years in India
and had lived in most of the hill stations. "Do tell us about
the Himalayas!" said my wife to her. "Umph, the Hima
layas," she responded; "of course they are very high. But for
grandeur they can't compare with the Highlands of Scotland."
This dissertation of mine on the four points of view to be
avoided has been, perhaps, unpardonably long. But if one is
to understand the religion of a people it is necessary to ap
proach it in the right way. Knowledge is necessary, but knowl
edge alone is not sufficient. It is so easy, on the one hand, to be
enthusiastically "sympathetic"; so easy also to be morally in
dignant or complacently superior; and so hard to be just.
Besides these four suspicious sources of information, or
points of view, there is a rather common method of judging re
ligions other than one's own which also ought to be avoided.
This method, which I suspect is commoner than most of us
think, consists in comparing the actual practice of the foreign
religion with the ideal side of our own. We are constantly as
serting that our actual Christianity falls far short of what it
means to be; we remind ourselves that there neither is nor ever
has been a really Christian nation or community. But we do
not stop to ask if there ever has been or is now a really Mo
hammedan or Hindu or Zoroastrian or Buddhist community
or nation. We are indignant if our Western vices are laid to the
charge of Christianity; yet we are sometimes eager to point out
that drunkenness exists in Mohammedan communities. And
if some Moslem reminds us that drinking is strictly forbidden
by the Koran, we respond, "Ah, but we must judge your relig
ion not by what it professes, but by what it does." Or one
may often hear assertions like this: "Yes, Buddhism probably
has certain fine features; but the Buddhists do not live up to
their religion!" It would be well for us to meditate occa-
10

ON AVOIDING MISUNDERSTANDINGS
sionally on the exclamation of the Russian Jewess, reported
by Mary Antin: "I did not know that a Christian could be
kind." But perhaps the greatest of all obstacles in the way of a just
appreciation of a strange religion is to be found in the matter of
worship. None of us, I suppose, are aware how thoroughly
provincial we are on this point. In spite of all our fine senti
ments and liberal ideas, most of us really feel about worship as
the Englishman felt about breakfast : there is only one kind and
that is our kind. When we go for the first time into a Hindu
temple we all feel a strong sense of disgust and usually little
else. I believe that much of this disgust is justified. It may
be my own ineradicable provincialism that makes me believe
so. But I am sure that there are present in the temple worship
elements that we do not see, elements that are hidden from us
by the shock of surprise and novelty and contrast. Such small
details as the fact that a drum is used instead of an organ, that
Indian music is different from European music, that Indian art
is different from European art, and that the language of the
ritual is to us unknown — these are enough to make many a
tourist turn away with the conviction that Hindu ceremonies
are all "mummery" or "devil worship." The gong and the
drum and the chanting issuing from the temple sound strange
and "outlandish" to us, and we at once feel a sense of fear, and
conjure up a picture, perhaps, of human sacrifice or of "magic
rites" (whatever these may be!) — and draw our conclusions
as to the heathen. We strangers and onlookers see the outside
only and forget that there is any inside. A recent Hindu writer
points out a similar case reported in the Mahabharata, only
here it was the Indian traveler who observed — and misinter
preted — a Christian ceremony. It was early in our era that
this Indian tourist was present at a communion service in a
Christian church in Asia Minor. He came away and described
the Christians as a people who "ate up the God they wor
shiped." Mr. Bepin Chandra Pal, from whom I take this, adds:
"Seen with the eye alone, this is a faithful description of the
Christian sacrament of the Eucharist. . . . The writer saw
from the outside: cognized with his senses certain physical
acts of the Christian worshipers. He had not the right key to
II

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
the interpretation of these outer acts. He put his own mean
ing on these in the light of his own peculiar experience. What
he saw was a fact, yet how misleading is his interpretation of
what he had seen. And the story illustrates very clearly the
general character of the interpretations put upon our life and
institutions by European scholars and students." *
A little consideration and a little reflection on our own ex
perience at home surely should free us from this blunder. The
Protestant who for the first time attends a Catholic mass comes
away feeling it is all "mummery"; for the very good reason
that it is so different from a Protestant service. The congre
gation doesn't sing hymns and the priest doesn't "lead" in a
"long prayer"; and surely a "service" without "congrega
tional singing" and "the long prayer" is no more a service
than breakfast without meat and potatoes is, for the English
man, a breakfast. Yet, when the Protestant comes better to
understand the mass, he finds that its "mummery" is to hun
dreds of earnest souls the most sacred of symbols, and that
though the priest does not "lead in prayer," the congregation
is praying none the less, and with a fervor and earnestness
perhaps not notably inferior to that which marks the usual
mind-wandering of a Protestant audience. In like manner we
should remind ourselves that the very "outlandishness" of
the Hindu, Buddhist, or Jaina worship may hide from us what
to the kneeling worshipers is the most precious symbol of the
Divine. And here we touch the very heart of the difficulty, the cause
of most of the spiritual blindness that separates peoples of
different faiths. We do not understand one another's symbols,
and we seldom try. And this is partly because we have not
stopped to consider the tremendous importance of symbolism
in religion, its universality, and the method of its growth. If
we should all realize in what varied forms the same truth or
the same emotional attitude may be symboled forth, there
would be less mutual recrimination between followers of differ
ent faiths.
It takes years for a symbol to gain its full force over an in
dividual or a race. One must grow up with it. It gathers its
1 The Soul of India (Calcutta, Choudhury, 191 1), pp. 13-14.
12

ON AVOIDING MISUNDERSTANDINGS
strength from the whole life and the whole environment. It
does not greatly matter what the symbol is: anything will do
provided it has by the steady growth of a lifetime and by the
aid of the whole social environment drawn around itself the
spiritual attitudes and sentiments which the race most prizes.
Thus, it takes a whole life thoroughly to understand a symbol:
from which it follows that one can never completely under
stand the full force and the emotional meaning and value of a
symbol belonging to a strange people and a strange culture. In
symbolism we all tend to be extremely provincial. We insist
that other peoples shall adopt our symbols, without realizing
that our symbols may be as strange and incomprehensible to
them as theirs are to us. We cannot understand how any one
can find strength or comfort in Kali, the great Hindu Mother,
with her string of skulls and her bloody mouth. We see the
Hindu deities presented with from four to ten arms, and we say
they look like spiders and must be horrid; not realizing that to
the Hindus these many arms mean the all-enfolding powers of
the Divine. And it never occurs to us that the Indian would
find it hard to appreciate some of our emblems and figures of
speech. To say nothing of the strange symbolism of early
Christian art, — the fish and the various beasts to which we
have grown accustomed, — consider our present constant em
phasis upon blood — the picture of moral guilt being "washed
away" by the application of blood,1 etc. Then there are the
various symbols connected with the "Lamb slain from the
foundation of the world" — "the Lamb upon the Throne,
crowned with many crowns." (Try to visualize the picture!)
There is also the trefoil representing the Trinity. And is not
the Trinity itself a kind of symbol — a symbol of which the
meaning seems quite uncertain?
Yet, while we can hardly hope to share with our Indian
brothers their feeling for their symbols, nor expect them fully
to appreciate ours, we can at least cultivate a sympathetic at
titude toward one another's symbols if we only will. And if we
1 The first of a list of questions which some of the Benares missionaries
have written out for the newly made converts to answer and study is this:
"What can wash away sin? " And of course the answer, which the converts
have to learn, is: "Not Ganges water, but blood."
13

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
really make the effort to do this, — instead of satisfying our
selves with clever ejaculations as to their absurdities, — we
may gain some sort of insight into their spiritual value. This is
the only way. It was thus, for instance, that Sister Nivedita
won the insight which so distinguishes her among writers on
India. The story of her learning the significance of Kali, the
Great Mother, will illustrate what I mean. One evening shortly
after her arrival in Calcutta, she heard a cry in a quiet lane,
and following her ears, found it came from a little Hindu girl
who lay in her mother's arms, dying. The end came soon, and
the poor mother for a time wept inconsolably. Then at last,
wearied with her sobbing,, she fell back into Sister Nivedita's
arms, and turning to her, said: "Oh, what shall I do? Where is
my child now?" And Sister Nivedita adds: "I have always
regarded that as the moment when I found the key. Filled
with a sudden pity, not so much for the bereaved woman as for
those to whom the use of some particular language of the Infin
ite is a question of morality, I leaned forward. ' Hush, mother ! '
I said. 'Your child is with the Great Mother. She is with
Kali!' And for a moment, with memory stilled, we were en
folded together, Eastern and Western, in the unfathomable
depth of consolation of the World-Heart."

CHAPTER II
HINDU WORSHIP
WHEN you have climbed the steps and taken off your
shoes, you may enter the inner court of the temple.
Just inside the gate is a basin with flowing water and beside it a
little image of Ganesh, the fat god with the elephant head; and
at the other end of the court stands the temple proper, con
sisting of three large shrines, each roofed over, but quite open
in front. In the central one sits Shiva or Mahadev (the "Great
God"), with his wife Parvati by his side. The shrine on his
right is occupied by Vishnu and his wife Lakshmi, while in the
third shrine is the goddess Jumna, unattended. To find both
Shiva and Vishnu in the same temple is not usual, nor is the
goddess of the Jumna River commonly met with. But this is
in Delhi, and that will explain her presence at least. Perhaps
I should have begun this chapter with a description of some
Hindu temple that was in all respects "typical"; but this
particular one was the first I had been allowed to enter, so I
shall take the reader into it along with me.
It was evident at once that this was not a church, but a
temple — or should I say a palace ? The five images were all
gorgeously clad,1 and were granting an audience to their faith
ful subjects. The subjects were present too and doing homage,
not in very great numbers at any one time, to be sure (for this
was not a service), but in a constantly flowing stream, arriving
and departing. I stood and watched them for some time — for
I found the worshipers more interesting than the gods. They
were all men, and they were all very much in earnest and very
reverent. On entering the court each would first ring a bell that
hung over the gateway, then wash his hands at the basin and,
turning toward the shrine where he meant to worship, bow
lowly, then rise, or perhaps prostrate himself upon the floor,
1 Cf. the Roman Catholic custom of clothing images of the Madonna
with costly silks and jewels. 15

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
and pray silently. Some went forward into the shrine and made
offerings before the images. These offerings were usually either
flowers, rice, and bunches of certain leaves, or money; and if the
latter, the priest who has charge of the temple is supposed to
use it for the purchase of flowers for the god.1 But the priest
was not in evidence; no one was mediating between the god and
his worshipers, who brought their adoration and their requests
very simply and silently and directly to the deity. Not a word
was spoken aloud, nor was there any audible murmuring as
there is so often in Catholic churches. The men were simply
standing there in the court or within the shrine, a few prostrate
or kneeling, all looking intently at the image of their chosen
deity, and all very evidently praying. His prayer finished, the
worshiper bows again, or more often prostrates himself, touch
ing the floor with his forehead, and steps out with silent feet,
walking backward till out of the temple, so as not to turn his
back on the god. At the gate he rings the bell again and de
parts, to give place to some one else. This tinkling bell of ar
riving and departing worshipers is the only sound one hears.
One of these worshipers, wearing the horizontal marks of
Shiva on his forehead, could speak English; and, following the
almost invariable custom throughout India, he did his best to
welcome the stranger. I asked him to tell me about his offer
ings and prayers. He said that he chooses as offerings to "god"
things he himself likes; not with any idea that "god" will use
them, but that " god " is pleased with the gift as a sign of hom
age and humility. After presenting his gift he prays. His
prayer consists of (i) pronouncing the deity's name; (2) re
peating certain verses which he has learned and which differ
according to the god worshiped; and (3) making certain peti
tions of his own. Thus, if he wants success in a business trans
action, or if his child is ill, he comes and asks help of Shiva.
"And," he added with great confidence, "Shiva gives it —
Shiva does give it!"
A scene such as this represents the informal temple worship
of the laymen. But the gods are also formally worshiped,
sometimes by the priest alone, sometimes by priest and people,
1 From what I know of Brahmin priests I think Shiva would prefer his
worshipers should make their offerings in kind.
16

HINDU WORSHIP
in a regular ceremony of more or less complexity. Such a cere
mony of homage is known as puja, and in most of the temples
it occurs at least once a day. The layman may do puja of a
modest and simple sort, but the more elaborate pujas are per
formed by Brahmin priests. Every temple has from one to
forty or more priests, whose duty it is to perform the daily cult.
In the larger temples this is a complex business and requires
many priests: but it is less confusing to watch it in a small
shrine where only one priest is officiating. One may see it in
any part of India, but the particular ceremony that I happen
to remember best was up in Hardwar. It was in a small Shiva
temple, which consisted merely of a room perhaps fifteen feet
square, in the center of which was a stone lingam, and near by a
sculptured bull, kneeling toward it. The lingam is the common
est of all religious objects in India,1 and almost invariably takes
the place of the image in Shiva temples. It looks like a short
column with rounded top and is in fact a phallic emblem. Its
exact origin is quite lost in antiquity, but phallic symbols are
common the world over, and this one, like the rest, probably
originated as the emblem of some primitive god of procreation,
and seems to have been assimilated to the worship of Shiva I
when the relatively uncultured people with whom it originated/
were admitted into Hinduism. That this took place at Benares \
would probably be a good guess, though a guess that can hardly
be verified. At any rate, Shiva and the lingam have for many
centuries grown together, and the lingam has for nearly all his
worshipers quite lost all sexual significance, and is simply the
object in which Mahadev, the Great God, chooses to incarnate
himself for the purposes of worship. As the other gods dwell
for ritualistic purposes in their images, so Shiva dwells within
the lingam.
The kneeling bull close by is faithful Nandi, the "vehicle"
or "mount" of Shiva; and wherever you find a lingam you are
likely to find Nandi, sculptured in perpetual adoration of the
Great God's symbol. In addition to Nandi two or three images
of other deities are usually found in subordinate positions in a
Shiva temple. Shiva's wife Parvati and his eldest son, the
elephant-headed Ganesh, are almost invariably of this number;
1 Monier Williams says there are 30,000,000 of them.
17

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
and in the south of India his second son Kartikkeya, or Sub-
rahmanya, the Indian Mars, is usually represented with the
rest of the family. In the north one seldom finds him, but Hanu-
man, the monkey god, often takes his place. So it was in the
temple at Hardwar — the great lingam in the center with faith
ful Nandi near by, while images of Parvati, Ganesh, and Hanu-
man — covered with glaring red paint — were on the walls. No
worshipers were present, but the old priest was busy at his
morning's devotions when we arrived. He had already covered
the lingam with flowers — a long process, since these must be
laid on one by one and each with the proper formula — and
had performed many a ceremonial libation of Ganges water
upon the flower-bedecked symbol. And now he began offering
flowers, one at a time, to the subordinate deities on the wall, in
toning, as he did so, "Ganesh Om!" "Hanuman Om!" "Par
vati Om ! " Next he put a number of leaves, one by one, on the
lingam, saying, "Shiva Om!" after which he presented a few
to the other deities. Then he touched the feet of the three
images with his hands and put his hands to his head — the
Indian token of homage — "taking the dust from the feet,"
they call it. The lingam had now to be marked for the day,
and the priest did this by daubing it with streaks of brownish
paint with his thumb. Then, standing before the lingam and
fingering his beads, he repeated many times, "Shiva Om!
Shiva Om!" together with other words which I could not catch;
after which he put his beads back around his neck and intoned
many verses or prayers.1
The offerings to the gods, as the reader has seen, consist
usually of flowers, leaves, rice, arid water. In Vedic times the
gods received animal sacrifices, but this practice was given up
in the worship of most of the gods when the belief in transmi
gration made animal life sacred to the Hindus. In the worship
of Vishnu no life is ever taken nor are any bloody sacrifices re-.
ceived, and, with very rare exceptions, the same is true of the
worship of Shiva. This is not the case, however, with all the
1 For a more detailed description of puja in Shiva and Vishnu temples see
Monier WiUiams, Brahmanism and Hinduism (4th ed., New York, Mac-
millan, 1891), pp. 93-94, 144-45, and 438-41; also Farquhar's Crown of
Hinduism (Oxford, 1913), pp. 313-14. 18

PRAYING TOWARD THE SUN, ON THE GHATS, BENARES

HINDU WORSHIP
gods.1 Particularly Kali, who may be called the goddess of
Nature or the goddess of Death, is not satisfied with a vege
table diet, but demands at certain intervals — usually once a
week — a bloody sacrifice. Every Thursday morning in Be
nares four goats are offered to her. The animal is tied to a post.
in front of the temple, a woman holds him by his legs, and the
religious executioner severs his head from his body with one
stroke of a heavy knife. The head is then borne into the temple
and presented before Kali's image; while the body makes a
sacred and pleasant meal for the temple priests. Bloody sacri
fices reach their climax during the Durga Puja at the Kalighat
temple in Calcutta. "The temple almost swims with blood,
and the smell is most sickening. The people bring their vic
tims, pay the fee, and the priest puts a little red lead on the
animal's head. When its turn comes the executioner takes the
animal, fixes its head in a frame, and then beheads it. A little
of the blood is placed in front of the idol and the pilgrim takes
away the headless body." 2 A little human blood (not enough
to do any great harm) Kali considers a particular relish. Mr.
Murdoch quotes a learned Hindu as saying, "There is scarcely
a respectable house in Bengal the mistress of which has not at
one time or other shed her own blood under the notion of satis
fying the goddess by the operation."8 Other things besides
1 " Goats, kids, chickens, buffaloes are offered here and there in sacrifice.
. . . One poor fellow once told me he had done everything he knew to cure
his sick wife and all to no avail; now he was leaving her alone for the time
while he walked twelve miles to a place to offer a kid in sacrifice. This
was his last resort." (Stover, India: A Problem [Elgin, 111., Brethren Pub.
House, 1903], p. 152.) There is a very persistent movement on foot all over
India, on the part of many Hindus and most Jainas, to put a stop to animal
sacrifice altogether, both by rousing public opinion against it and by induc
ing the various local authorities to forbid it. Scarcely a month passes that
there is not a notice in the Jaina Gazette of some noble and merciful rajah
having prohibited animal sacrifice within his domains, or a very emotional
petition, signed by Jainas and Hindus, to some other rajah to do the same.
2 J. Murdoch, Siva Bhakti (Madras, Christian Lit. Society, 1902), p. 24.
3 Ibid., p. 25. It must be remembered, however, that this sentence was
written about twenty years ago. Apparently the custom is a survival of the
rite of human sacrifice which used to be performed in honor of the blood
thirsty goddess before the English became masters of the land. And accord
ing to Rev. Mr. Martin, "there seems reason to suspect that even at the
present day sacrifices are occasionally performed secretly in the shrines of
Kali or Durga Devi. There are numerous modern instances in Nepal. At
Benares one recently occurred. At Chanda and Lanjii, near Nagpur, there
19

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
edibles and flowers are also occasionally offered to the gods,
for the worshiper wishes to present the deity with anything he
thinks the deity would like. Two favorite offerings in Shiva
temples are incense and the waving of lamps, in which ghi
(liquefied butter) is burned on cotton wicks. In some of the
temples of Krishna, where the god is represented as an infant,
tiny caps, children's fans, and other adornments for the divine
child are brought by the faithful — in fact, there are shops full
of them just outside of the temple precincts for the benefit of
the worshipers. The large temples in the south of India are
provided with dancing girls who perform on various occasions
in honor of the god and presumably for his delectation — girls,
I should add, consecrated in youth to the service of the tem
ple, and whose official duty is not confined merely to dancing.
The worshipers, as I have said, may go to the temple and
pray without the mediation of the priest; and every day the
priest officially performs the proper rites for the benefit of the
god. And Shiva at least may also be worshiped automatically,
without any worshipers being present at all, for the form of
worship most pleasing to him is the libation of water upon the
lingam. Hence a clever device has been invented for this pur
pose : a good-sized water- tank, filled with Ganges water, is sus
pended over a lingam, with a tiny opening arranged in such a
way that one or two drops of the sacred liquid shall fall every
minute upon Shiva's emblem. Thus is the perpetual adoration
of the Great God maintained without any further work being
involved than the occasional filling of the tank.
? But besides these simple modes of worship there are more
elaborate services in which priest and people uniteA Any morn
ing one may witness these — from outside the door — in half a
are shrines to Kali at which human sacrifices to the goddess have been
offered almost within the memory of the present generation." (The Gods of
India [London, Dent, 1914], p. 188.) In the past, of course, human sacrifice
in India was not confined to Hinduism and the cult of Kali. A number of
semi-barbarous and animistic tribes have practiced the rite, notably the
Kondhs. Mr. Thurston, in his Omens and Superstitions of Southern India
(New York, McBride, 1912), refers to several cases of human sacrifice among
them since the year 1880; and "even so recently as 1902, a European magis
trate in Ganjam received a petition asking for permission to perform a hu
man sacrifice, which was intended to give a rich color to the turmeric crop"
(op. cit., p. 206).
20

HINDU WORSHIP
dozen temples in almost every large city. There is usually a
great deal of "music" from gongs and drums; hymns are
sometimes sung (especially in the south) ; the priest makes the
common offering of rice and flowers and Ganges water, and
does much chanting; the drums and gongs quicken their beat,
and the puja winds up in an exciting finale and noisy crash,
with much waving of flaming lamps before the god; after which
the priest distributes to the audience the consecrated offerings
and the holy water, each worshiper getting a little to take
home with him. Sometimes these sacred things cannot be had
so cheaply — as in the Krishna temple at Benares, where the
offerings after being presented to the god are sold to certain
shops and may there be bought (by Hindus only) at an en
hanced price.
Some of the temples at Benares are thronged every morning
with pilgrims from various parts of India, and especially at the
great fane known as the Golden Temple will one find an almost
endless stream of worshipers filing inwards, with little brass
jars filled from the Ganges to be emptied piously on Shiva's
lingam. The scene as one views it through the open door is
hardly edifying: the great lingam is barely visible, covered over
with yellow marigolds, and constantly drenched with water,
gongs and bells sounding in various parts of the temple, priests
and pilgrims nearly naked walking about from shrine to shrine,
talking and laughing, a big sacred bull often sauntering in and
being fed, and the floor awash with Ganges water, marigold
petals, and cow dung. Soon the detachment of pilgrims files out
to make room for a new lot, and as they pass through the door
the fat priests who stand there make each one bow low and
deliver up some of his fast-disappearing savings — for the glory
of god and the dinner of the godly.
But it is in the south of India that one sees the temple wor
ship in its most elaborate form. The temples themselves are
"almost incredibly enormous. They are not buildings, but en
closures of many acres, with great gates and towers, and (with
in) tanks, temples, shrines, halls, corridors, storehouses, and
sometimes bazaars and dwellings — veritable cities, in short,
reminding one strikingly of the great temples of ancient Egypt.
The dimensions of the largest one of them — the temple of
21

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
Srirangam (a local name for Vishnu), near Trichinopoly — are
worth giving. It is 2880 feet long, 2475 feet wide, and is the
largest temple in the world. Close by stands a temple to Shiva
almost as large, while at Madura, Tanjore, Rameswaram, Thi
ruklikundrum, Puri, Conjeeveram, and various other places are
temples only slightly smaller. In each of these great enclosures
is a central shrine in which is kept the most sacred image or
lingam, and before it puja is elaborately performed every day
by a large body of priests. In addition to this there is a special
form of worship which one does not find in the north — namely,
the practice of taking the god out for a ride or sometimes for a
short visit in the country. For this purpose enormous cars are
kept in the temples, whose wheels are sometimes seven feet or
more in diameter and so heavy that it takes scores of men to
draw them. I once met one of the gods returning in his car
from a week in the country, where he had gone to enjoy the
bath in a sacred tank. It was evening and a long procession
preceded and followed the chariot. First came torch-bearers,
with drummers and cymbal-bearers and other "musicians,"
followed by fifty or more men in line, and then more drums and
more torches. After these came the enormous and most ornate
car and high up upon it where all could see sat the image,
gorgeously dressed and embedded in flowers. Several Brahmin
priests were riding on the car, at the foot of the image, and every
now and then the procession would stop to give the pious an
opportunity to rush up and present offerings, chiefly of fruit,
which the priests graciously accepted and placed before the
idol. There was a great deal of shouting and laughing and
merrymaking, and obviously every one was having a good
time — the priests particularly. Nearly every one seemed to
regard it as a kind of lark; a kind of lark, it should be added,
in which religion becomes a grown-up way of playing dolls.
But the most elaborate and memorable performance of the
sort that I saw in India was at the great temple in Madura.
The temple alone is most mysterious and impressive. You
enter it through a gopuram, or gateway, 152 feet high, and find
yourself in what seems another world — a forest of carved
columns, a forest of statues, one inner wall after another and a
carved tower at the passageway through each, a tank or pool
22

HINDU WORSHIP
as large as a lake, with palm trees growing by it, and now and
then a vista through a dim corridor into a dark shrine in the
very interior — the holy of holies where Shiva dwells — lighted
only by twinkling candles and where you and I are not allowed
to enter. In the night the temple doubles its mystery, and the
corridors lengthen out under the influence of flaring torches and
thousands of tiny candles. We were fortunate in happening
upon an evening when the gods were taken in procession through
the temple and around it. The image of Shiva and of his wife
Parvati were dressed and adorned with golden plates and a
great display of jewels, and each was placed on the back of a
beautifully carved horse — carved in wood with great artistic
skill and covered over with gold leaf. At a given signal each of
these was raised on the backs of forty or fifty porters, and first
made to dance and then carried forward amid the shouts of the
people and the sound of pipes, drums, cymbals, and conches.
Reinforcements now were added. Two elephants, richly ca
parisoned, led the procession, which started through the ave
nues and under the great gopurams of the temple. After the
elephants came six men carrying umbrellas and dancing wildly,
then Shiva's eldest son, the elephant-headed Ganesh, carried
in his car, and Shiva's second son Subrahmanya in his. In the
center of the procession, following his two sons, came the Great
God himself, on his prancing golden steed, with much music,
followed by his wife, and she in turn followed by her servant-
god (for the chief gods have servants divine as well as human).
The rear of the procession was brought up by a dozen Brahmin
priests walking side by side and hand in hand, chanting the
Vedas. "There they go," said an old Hindu to me; "there they
go, chanting the Vedas; and not one of them understands a
word of what he is saying!" There was no light, of course, ex
cept the lurid gleam of torches and the twinkling of the little
lamps on the many towering portals through which the gods
and their worshipers passed — a thousand on each gate. So
the procession swept out through the great gopuram into the
city and made a circuit around the outer walls of the whole
temple with much enthusiasm, noise, and yellow light.
But great temples like that at Madura are hardly so typical
of Hinduism as small ones, where one or two individuals at a
23

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
time go and do their daily pujaj At the roadside shrine one
sees the religion of the people better than in the pomp of the
great processions./ In fact not even a temple is needed for the
public worship of the gods^) Under many a pipal tree one finds
collections of ancient stone lingams or images, — the red Hanu-
man or the pot-bellied Ganesh with his trunk ; and around these
the beliefs and superstitions of the common people center quite
as much as about the more elaborate images in the great
temples. The trees themselves, moreover, are sacred and so
are many plants; and one will often see a Brahmin brandishing
a lamp before some pitiful little sprig of a tree, or an old woman
reverently laying a few grains of rice at its foot, or burning a
wick before it, with very evident and sincere belief in the efficacy
of her actions to accomplish some desired end. Thus the super
stitious Hindu "worships" not only the great gods but an im
mense army of spirits, including his own ancestors; and he also
"worships" such things as the cow and even his own tools. But
care must be taken in interpreting this word "worship." We use
it only to indicate man's attitude toward God. To understand
the Indian phenomenon which is denoted by the word as used
by most writers on India, it is necessary to give it quite a new
"meaning. Worship here should be understood to mean either a
conventional act which it is good to perform because sanc
tioned by custom, or a request from one finite being to another,
some degree of awe being involved in the fact that the being to
'¦¦ whom the request is made remains forever behind the scenes.
It does not, however, necessarily involve any moral reverence,
or any recognition of greatly superior power. It is more like
a business proposition than like Christian worship. Our state
of mind, if we should ask Carnegie for a library, is probably not
far different from that of the native when he worships a tree
spirit. In like manner he worships the King-Emperor and the
Viceroy, and he will worship you and me if he needs baksheesh.
The elaborate "Salaam Sahib! Salaam Sahib!" of the coolie or
beggar to the man with the big topee is a kind of puja. It is in
some such sense as this that we must understand the Indian's
"worship" of the cow and the various spirits of the air.
But we must not judge all Hindu worship by scenes like
these. Nor must we forget that our eyes are blinded by our own
24

HINDU WORSHIP
traditions and our own symbols to the best things in the Hindu
temples as seen by Hindu eyes. Says Farquhar: "Hinduism
has proved itself a most powerful system both in organizing the
people and in stimulating them religiously; and no part of the
religion has been more living and effective than the worship
of the temple. . . . The temple is a constant joy to each Hindu
because he can go and actually look on the face of the god
whom he loves, express his affection by giving him a gift of
food, pour into his ear all his sorrows and all his desires, hear the
god's reply, and go home fortified against evil spirits and ill-
luck through eating a portion of the food that has been offered
to the divinity. The bhakti [personal religious devotion] of the
Hindu, whether villager or saintly poet, is usually a passionate
devotion to a single idol. He dances with rapture or falls in a
swoon from sudden emotion when he sees the glory of the
divine eyes." 1
And if we would gain any glimmer of comprehension of the
inner meaning of the temple worship, we must turn our gaze
away from the images of the gods and the external side of the
performance, and fasten it instead upon the faces of the wor
shipers. For though the human face also is a symbol, it is a
symbol which we all can understand. Much of Hindu temple
worship is degraded, but there are elements in it which, though
incomprehensible to us, somehow have their value. Come to
the bathing-ghats at Benares and watch the lines of people
streaming up into the temples of Mahadev that crown their
summit. It is a serious throng this, though one finds smiles as
well as sadness there. A few young men there are in it, but
most of the men are of middle age or old. And the greater part
of the procession — as of most religious processions of the
twentieth century — is made up of women. Some bring with
them bright hopes and happy faces, but most of them have lit
tle left in this world but religion, they being widows — widows
young and old, with heads eternally shaven, trudging one after
another up the steps to the temple of Mahadev. The gong and
drum inside the temple are calling the worshipers with ever-
increasing din, and the women and men pause at the doorway
and bow, or touch the panel or the floor with their hands and
1 Op. cit., p. 327.
25

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
rub these on their foreheads, and then go in — where you and I
are not allowed to go; for happily the shrine is sacred and these
have privileges in it which are very precious and which you and
I may not share. Each worshiper carries a brass jar or bowl
filled with Ganges water, and, wrapped up somewhere in her
loose-flowing garments, a few grains of rice and the petals of
flowers — mostly marigolds or roses. Some of these are laid
reverently before the images of the lesser gods whose shrines line
the walls of the temple, and then with pious feet our worshiper
advances to the stone lingam of Shiva who is Mahadev, the
Great God. On this she pours the Ganges water which she has
brought, and here deposits her poor gift of flowers or food, and
then stands for some time in silent prayer — silent except for
the whispered word, now and then, "Mahadev! Mahadev!"
Her prayer finished, she joins the human stream going out
ward from the temple; and if one may trust the expression on
her face, she is taking with her something that she did not bring.
She has found something in that shrine, something like com
fort or hope, or at least a sense of duty done and God pleased.
In some sense or other she has met God in the Hindu temple.
But it is in the home even more than in the temple that the
pious Hindu expects to meet God. In every Hindu house be
fore the advent of Western influence there was — and in all the
more conservative houses there is still — a temple room, pro
vided with a few pictures of favorite deities and a'number of
stone, clay, or brass images. Shiva's lingam *¦ is almost invari-
1 There are three kinds of lingams commonly used in worship: (i) those
made of earth or clay for temporary use and destroyed after puja (it should
be thrown into the Ganges if possible) ; (2) carved stone or clay or metal
lingams which may be bought in the bazaar; (3) small rounded stones or
large pebbles of the general shape of a lingam and obtained from the Ner-
budda River. Worshipers of Vishnu frequently keep in their homes a kind
of fossilized shell or large pebble covered with many odd markings and holes
(an ammonite or nautilus) known as salagrama stones, and found in the
streams of Nepal. They are peculiarly sacred to Vishnu, and are sometimes
bathed, dried with a cloth, ornamented with flowers, set upon a throne, and
worshiped. Images of the various gods — usually of brass — may be bought
in the_ bazaar in any city. In addition to images, some Hindus, especially
worshipers of shakti, make use of yantras or mystic diagrams in their wor
ship. Both images and yantras must first be magnetized, so to speak, with
the divine presence by means of the recitation of mantras, before the god
comes to dwell in them for purposes of worship.
26

HINDU WORSHIP
ably one of these — usually of stone and from six inches to a
foot high — while Vishnu, Ganesh, and Hanuman are also
likely to be represented. If the family can afford it, it employs)
a Brahmin priest to look out for the religious interests of the
family and take charge of the domestic shrine.1 The priest
does daily puja and before each meal rings a bell in the shrine,
whereupon the lady of the house presents part of the food to the
god. This in fact she does always, whether the family has a
priest or not. All the members of the family also come into the
shrine before each meal and do puja. This custom of sharing
each meal with the god, who must be served before any one elseT
together with the united family worship in recognition of the
divine care, is of course "primitive," but is not lacking in
certain rather pleasing aspects. It is in some respects similar to
our custom of "asking the blessing" before meals. But both
customs are too "primitive" for these times, and they are
both fast disappearing, especially among the "more in
telligent." I do not wish to idealize the Hindu domestic shrine, how
ever. The worship which one finds there, though sincere so far
as it goes, is often very ignorant. I had a talk with a Hindu
merchant in Ceylon, who, though far from his native land (he
and his partner had come from Karachi), had brought with
him into the Buddhist island two of his old gods and a few of
his religious books. He told me that he and his partner never
went to the Hindu temple, but that they had a little temple of
their own in the back of their shop, where they did puja regu
larly morning and night, and he very kindly took me to see it.
It was a closet, small and dark, its walls lined with the usual
pictures from Hindu mythology, such as you see in almost
every Hindu shop or booth in India. It was provided with
two shelves, on one of which were a few books, while on the
other were standing two images, which he showed me with
some pride and a little reverence. One was unmistakably
Ganesh — as in fact he said. The other I did not recognize,
1 Cf . the custom of the ancient Hebrew family to employ a Levite to
attend to its domestic worship. The reader will remember the story of
Micah who had "an house of gods" (i.e., of domestic images) and who se
cured the services of a young Levite who was seeking his fortunes in that
land. See Judges, xvu and xvm. 27

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
and he said he did not know who it was, but he worshiped it
twice a day just the same. He said his partner knew who it was;
and since this knowledge belonged to the firm it evidently
satisfied him. He did not himself know anything about the god
except that it had to be worshiped twice a day and this he did
conscientiously. He said that he prayed to these two gods for
whatever he wanted, in prayers of his own making: and when
I asked him if his prayers were answered and if the gods gave
him what he petitioned for, he said, "Of course!"
This man always spoke of the images as "gods." I asked if
he meant that they really were gods, or merely representations
of the gods. He answered that the images were the gods them
selves. On being questioned further, he said there was only
one god Ganesh, but many images of him: yet insisted that
this image was the god Ganesh. This complete cloudiness of
thought represents, I believe, the attitude of a large proportion
of the uneducated Hindus on the question of idols and their
nature, though certainly not all express their real position so
frankly. The nature of Indian idolatry is a very difficult
question. Excellent evidence can be brought forward to prove
that the Hindus regard their idols as images only — as merely
suggestions or symbols of the divine; while evidence equally
good shows that the Hindus identify the images with the gods
themselves. The truth is, of course, that not only is each of
these views held by different members of the community, ac
cording to their stage of enlightenment, but that probably the
majority of the Hindus hold both views at once — as did my
(friend in Ceylon. It is only in logic that contradictory op-
posites are incompatible; in the human mind they often keep
house together very comfortably.
r- Most Hindus whom you question as to the nature of their
idols will tell you that these are not to be identified with their
gods, but are merely likenesses or perhaps nothing but "sug
gestions" of the divine, which they find to be a help in the
I concentration of their minds in worship. The Shiva worshiper
already referred to, who showed me about the temple in Delhi,
said to me, "The image is not Shiva. Shiva is in heaven.
But I want to worship Shiva, so I make a picture or image as
like Him in appearance as I can, and then I pray to Shiva in
28

HINDU WORSHIP
front of it because it helps me to pray." And according to
Howells, "the ordinary villager all over India" will respond to
the missionary's protest against idolatry in words like these : —
"Yes, sir, we agree with all you say as to the spiritual character
of God. With you we believe God to be Spirit, and with you we
say that He must be worshiped in spirit and in truth. But is
not God omnipresent? Is not the Eternal Spirit everywhere,
filling all space? Are not all earth and sky and heaven full of
his glory? Then, if God be everywhere, as all admit, is He not
in tree and flower and rock and sky and cloud? And so, when
we fall down before the idols of wood and stone, do not think
that we worship the mere wood and stone; we rather worship
the One Supreme God, who by virtue of His omnipresence is in
the tree and in the rock and pervades all space." J
Though presentations of the matter in this light are common
and decidedly beautiful, they are not exact. For the image of
the cult unquestionably has a sacredness in the eyes of the de
vout Hindu which is lacking not only in ordinary "wood and
stone," but lacking also in other images of exactly the same ap
pearance which have not been duly consecrated. In every
great Hindu temple you will find a large number of images of
the god to whom the temple is sacred, sculptured in the cor
ridors or on the towers or standing in the courts. But no one
worships these. It is only the image in the central shrine to
which one does puja. There is a regular and elaborate process
which must be gone through by a duly qualified Brahmin priest
— the recitation of many mantras, sprinkling of holy water,
etc. — before the idol is recognized not as an ordinary image,
but as a "cult-image." Rather significantly this ceremony is
technically known as the "bringing-in" (of the deity), or as the
"establishment of life" (in the image).2 The whole process of"
puja, moreover, the bathing and dressing of the idol, the presen
tation of food, water, and sweets to it, the sending it into the
country for an airing, and the final putting it to sleep at night,
show plainly that there is something more here than an attempt
to concentrate one's thoughts on God, and that the cult-image
is conceived of as being in some sense or other a genuine and
1 Howells, The Soul of India (London, James Clarke, I913)i P- 4^7 •
3 Farquhar, op. cit., p. 322. 29

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
peculiar embodiment of the Divine.1 An Indian philosopher
of my acquaintance said to me: "Ask any one of the lower
classes as to his view of idols, and he will assure you that the
image before which he prays is not God but only a symbol.
This he will say; but it is a question whether he really feels it.
It seems more probable that this is a kind of phrase which
all Hindus have learned, but that in their hearts many of the
lower classes practically identify the stone image with the
.god." And not only is the god present in the cult-image for pur
poses of worship in a peculiar way; different cult-images of the
same god often acquire in the course of years a distinction of
their own which almost makes them into separate personalities.
Farquhar has illustrated, out of the life of Ramanuja, the way
in which the Vishnu of Conjeeveram and the Vishnu of Trichin-
opoly were already in the time of the philosopher regarded as
being sufficiently separate personalities to allow of their con
tending with each other for the possession of a favorite disciple; 2
and the god of many a lesser shrine has attained to an inde
pendent personality almost equal to that of the two Vishnu
idols cited.3
Of course educated Hindus of to-day do not identify the
image with God ; but some of them believe that God does man
ifest himself in some peculiar sense in the image for the benefit
of the worshiper,4 and many testify that they find the presence
of an image a real help in bringing about the religious attitude
of mind and insist that for the uneducated it is almost a neces
sity. A cultured Bengalee Brahmin said to me: "The idol is
1 For a thorough and persuasive discussion of this subject see Farquhar,
op. cit., chap. vm.
2 Op. cit., pp. 325-26.
8 Something like this almost inevitably follows whenever and wherever
worship at special shrines is regarded as having special virtue. It is to be
found in most polytheistic religions where pilgrimages are encouraged; and
to some extent in Catholic Christianity as well. Our Lady of Lourdes occu
pies a very different position from that of Our Lady of Paris.
4 Farquhar quotes a modern Vaishnavite as follows: "The manifestation
is that form of the Lord in which the Lord is pleased, without any kind of
limitation as to time, places, or persons, to be present and manifest Himself
to all, in temples and homes, to wink at faults, and to be, for every move
ment or business, dependent on the worshiper" (p. 320). But there have
always been protests from spiritual Hindus against every sort of idolatry.
30

HINDU WORSHIP
useful in aiding visualization and concentration. It is a sensu
ous symbol, just as the word G-O-D is. Both are symbols, one
tangible and visible, the other audible; and both are helpful to
our finite minds in standing for the Infinite. The man who
worships before an idol in effect prays : ' O God, come and dwell
in this image before me for the moment that I may worship thee
here concretely ! ' " ,-
The truth is, a good deal more can be said in defense of an in
telligent use of "idols" than one who has never seriously con-'
sidered the matter is likely to conceive. And thoughtful mis
sionaries like Howells and Farquhar are quite ready to admit
this fact. Nor can it be said that criticism such as is made by
the former of these gentlemen (and in part concurred in by the
latter) is altogether satisfactory. He gives a typical argument
between an intelligent "idolater" and a missionary, in which
he is quite just to the former except in cutting the discussion
short and giving the missionary the last word. The mission
ary's last word — which the author evidently regards as de
cisive — amounts to this: that Hindu idols are ugly and quite
unworthy representations of the Divine; and the natural de
sire to represent God concretely is fully satisfied in God's in
carnation, Jesus Christ.1 It seems plain enough that if the
"idolater" were permitted a final reply, it would be something
like this: "When you speak of Christ as the concrete represen
tation of God, you miss the point of my argument altogether.
For what I feel the need of is something that can appeal directly
to my senses. Were Christ here visibly and tangibly, then in
deed your argument would hold. But he is gone these nine
teen hundred years. And as to my ugly images — de gustibus
Thus a Shaivite poet who lived a thousand years ago (one Pattanattu Pillai
— may his name not be lost!) could write as follows: —
''My God is not a chiseled stone
Or lime-block clear and bright.
No bronzen image He, forsooth,
That's cleansed for mortal's sight.
"I cannot worship such as these,
But make my lofty boasts
That in my heart I set the feet
Of the great God of Hosts."
For more of the same tenor see Barnett's The Heart of India (London,
Murray, 1908), pp. 88-92.
1 Howells, op. cit., pp. 418-19. 31

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
non disputandum. I do not take them to be likenesses of God,
but only symbolical representations of certain divine attributes.
And you, not being a Hindu, of course should not expect to
understand the powerful emotional appeal they have for me."
There can be no question of the contribution which the senses
make in bringing about the religious state of mind. Christian
ity, both Catholic and Protestant, has recognized this fact in
the arrangement of its churches and its services. Our thought
and still more our feeling has need of concrete sensuous sup
ports. It is to this fundamental need of the human mind that
the use of images has appealed since first the Divine retreated
behind the visible and took up its abode in the Unseen. The
history of religion in all parts of the world is ample evidence of
this psychological fact. Even the Buddhists and Jainas have
been forced to adopt the use of images, and the Catholic Church
in its prayers to the saints, and still more in its central doctrine
of the Real Presence, has recognized and utilized this deep-lying
need. There is, therefore, considerable justification for the
defender of images when he maintains that most men, and
particularly those on a low stage of intellectual development,
may find a great deal of help in the presence of an "idol." The
widows, for instance, whom I described some pages back com
ing out of the temple of Mahadev and taking home with them
genuine comfort — would they have found that comfort if the
temple had had no image or symbol of the Great God? It
seems extremely doubtful. The faith of these faithful souls
finds reinforcement in the sensuous presence of a physical ¦
object which is very real. The Great God doubtless is present
everywhere; but what is that abstract doctrine compared with
the sense of proximity to the Deity and the realization of His
presence which comes to the poor soul when she sees this sym
bol of the mystery of life directly before her, and pours her
offering of sacred water directly upon this concrete object in
which the Great God has consented to take up (for her sake)
His miraculous abode?
The danger in the use of images is the ease of their misuse.
And in India the great majority of those who use them misuse
them. By this I mean that they identify the object with the
Divine in some magical sense, and hence the door is open to all
32

HINDU WORSHIP
sorts of degrading superstitions. And while the use of images
makes it easier for the mind to realize the presence of the Di
vine, it is questionable whether the Divine does not lose more
of excellence in the process than it gains in power^The DivineX
is dwarfed in order to be made assimilable to the Human mind |
without stretching the latter; -V as if the stretching of the
mind were not one of the chief services which religion does for
man. And if God is really to be pleased by the presentation of
flowers and rice to his image, then religion degenerates into a
very external matter — which is hardly to be recommended
because it is "easy." No, undeniable as is the psychological
aid to be derived from the use of images, idolatry as actually
practiced in India results in evils considerably greater than all
the benefits ascribed to it by its defenders.
So much, then, for the use of idols and for the puja of the
temple and the home. But public and domestic ceremonies
of the kind described in this chapter are not the only ways
in which one acquires merit with the gods. One of the most
important forms of the Hindu cult, and one of the distinguish
ing features of religion in India, is to be found in religious
pilgrimages to sacred places — a subject that will occupy our
attention in the following chapter.

CHAPTER III
THE HINDU PILGRIM
INDIA is as thickly strewn with sacred spots as Europe and
America with power factories. Most of these holy places
are thronged at certain periods of the year — and some of them
every day of the year — with crowds of pilgrims who have come
from near-by towns, or even from distant parts of India, to
worship at the shrine, bathe in the waters of the sacred river or
tank or sea which is almost invariably to be found near the
temple, and incidentally to have a pleasant social time and
meet All-the-world and his wife, who are sure to be there. An
Indian pilgrimage suggests a French pardon in its mixture of
piety, earnestness, and restrained joyousness. One cannot call
it gay, and there can be no question of the solemnity which the
pilgrims feel in performing the various rites; and yet it is very
evident that every one is happy; and if, on the one hand, there
is never a sign of indecorum, there is, on the other, nothing to
suggest the Puritan Sabbath. Perhaps the most striking thing
in these pilgrimages is to be found in the tremendous numbers
that attend them and the way they continue with no ebb of
the tide throughout the year. The tourist in India is constantly
surprised at the numbers of the natives in the trains. They are
packed away in the fourth-class compartments like cattle from
Chicago to New York — hundreds and hundreds of happy
Hindus, dressed in all varieties of colored rags, with some get
ting out and more getting in at every station. Where are all
these men and women going? The answer is that most of them
are on a pilgrimage. They have saved up their annas and their
pice for months and now they are off for a religious holiday.
Or perhaps they are returning home from one. In either case
they are a happy lot : those starting out are happy in anticipa
tion, those returning are filled with the sense of duty done and
merit acquired. They are that much farther along on their
great journey through the universe and through the ages, from
34

THE HINDU PILGRIM
the lowest forms of life up to the highest heaven, a journey of
which the Hindu seems ever conscious and on which he ever
regards himself as an unresting pilgrim.
Of the hundreds of holy places in India there are a few which
stand out as peculiarly holy, and of these the six following are
perhaps the most sacred: Hardwar, Allahabad, and Benares,
all on the Ganges: Brindaban, on the Jumna; Puri, near the
eastern coast and about three hundred miles south of Calcutta;
and Rameswaram, on the island of that name — one of the
chain of islands known as "Adam's Bridge" lying between
South India and Ceylon. Of these six holy places it was my
good fortune to visit four, and I can probably give the reader a
better idea of India's pilgrims by describing what I saw myself
than by giving a more general description of the Indian pil
grimage as such.
The holy places I visited were Hardwar, Allahabad, Benares,
and Rameswaram, as well as Mahaban (a few miles from Brin
daban) of which I shall have something to say in our next
chapter. Of Rameswaram I shall say but little. There were
but few pilgrims visiting it the day of our pilgrimage, and I
took away much more vivid impressions from the architecture
of the temple with its magnificent corridors a thousand feet
long than from the religious bearing of the pilgrims. Pilgrims
there were, of course, bathing in the near-by lake, and then
passing, in their wet garments, through the long corridors into
the central shrine, sacred to Shiva. In this shrine is a famous
lingam said to have been placed here by Rama, and said also to
move when cooled (as it is every day) by Ganges water, which
is brought nearly fifteen hundred miles for this purpose and is
afterwards sold to the pilgrims. But I shall not detain the
reader longer in this wonderful inner shrine; especially as
neither he nor I is allowed to enter it or even to peek at its
remarkable lingam from a distance. The non-Hindu may watch
the dripping pilgrims disappear through a great and mysteri
ous doorway, and that is all.
The sacred spots along the great rivers of India are much
better points of pilgrimage for the non-Hindu than is Rames
waram; for in these places nearly everything of importance is
open to his observation — which is in fact almost inevitable,
35

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
since the chief ceremony is the ritualistic bath in the sacred
stream itself. (For many of the great rivers of India, such as the
Indus, the Jumna, and the Nerbudda, possess the supernatural
power of washing away sin if bathed in at the proper time and
in the proper way; and some of them can even assure a safe
passage to the next world to him whose ashes are duly com
mitted to their sacred waves) But while the three rivers named
above, and several others which might be added to the list,
possess great power and sanctity, all of them together cannot
be compared in value to "Mother Ganga." "By bathing in
other rivers," says the Garuda Purana, "men are purified, but
so also by merely touching, drinking, or calling upon the
Ganges. It sanctifies meritless men by hundreds and thousands.
He who calls, O Ganga! Ganga! while life is flickering in the
throat, goes when dead to the City of Vishnu and is not born
again on earth." "He whose bones sink in the water of the
Ganges never returns from the world of Brahma." 1
Although along its entire length the Ganges is thus sacred
and miraculously beneficent, there are certain spots upon it in
which its sanctity and its supernatural powers present them
selves to a special and extreme degree; and the three places
already referred to are of course the most sacred of these —
namely, Hardwar, where the river issues from the Himalayas;
Allahabad, where it is joined by its sacred tributary the Jumna;
and Benares, the Holy City.
We were fortunate, I think, in visiting Hardwar on one of its
less popular days; for had there been many more pilgrims than
we found, there would hardly have been any place for us. As
it was, the ghats or broad flights of steps leading down to the
water, were thronged for hours with men and women waiting
their turn to dip, usually with nearly all their clothes on, into
the ice-cold water of the strong young river. Here where it
rushes from the gorge at the foot of the Himalayas its waters
are as pure and clean as those of any mountain stream, and
except for its icy temperature a bath in it would seem most in
viting. So evidently the pilgrims think, for there is no mistak
ing the eagerness — as well as the reverence — with which
1 Garuda Purana, x, 30 and 79. (Translated by Wood and Subramanyam,
The Sacred Books of the Hindus, vol. ix, Allahabad, 191 1.)
36

THE HINDU PILGRIM
they wash their hands, heads, and teeth, and then dip cere
moniously three times under the waves. Though men and
women bathe side by side there is not the least suggestion of
immodesty or even of self -consciousness in the whole perform
ance. Every one present has come on serious business, busi
ness connected with his eternal destiny, and he has no time for
other considerations. The na'iver.6 of the ceremony is most ad
mirable; for the time being all these men and women have be
come as little children. When the bath is finished, they throw a
few flowers into the water, or some rice for the carp which line
the bottom of the stream, and then withdraw to some higher
part of the ghat, where, with wonderful dexterity and equal
modesty, they manage to dress by putting on dry clothes un
derneath the wet ones.
Suspended over the bathers' heads is a sign in large letters,
expressive of both religion and political loyalty: "Ganga save
the King" — a sentiment very representative of the simple
people of India. At one side of the ghats, close by the bank of
the river, sits a holy ascetic, warming his hands over a fire of
dried cow dung, ready to accept the homage of the pilgrims,
but not forcing himself on any of them. I gave him a small
coin and he returned the compliment by presenting me, as a
dainty to be eaten, with a pinch of ashes from his cow-dung
fire. Farther downstream a man was hammering away at the
lid of a tin cracker box. At last he got it open and I found it
was full of ashes and the remains of human bones — evidently
all that was left of some near relative. He emptied it into the
stream, put the lid back on the box, and turned away with it
under his arm. His nonchalant manner and his seeming in
difference toward the bones were the most gruesome part of the
performance. They might have been peanuts.
Yet one must not judge the Indians by the lack of expression
in their faces at such a time. For the control of the expression
of grief is cultivated as a virtue. And the general impression
which one carries away from Hardwar is that of the pleasant
but earnest and quiet performance of a serious and important
duty. To Allahabad we went more than once; but our most inter
esting visit was at the time of the great Magh Mela, — a tradi-
37

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
tional pilgrimage, established in ancient times, — which is held
there every year toward the middle of January in celebration of
the turning backward of the sun from the extreme southern
point of its journey. For Indian astronomy, usually many cen
turies belated, is sometimes only three weeks behindhand.
The mela is held about two miles from the city, at the point
where the Ganges and Jumna unite. The bed of the Ganges is
here about a mile and a half and that of the Jumna about half a
mile wide but at this season of the year the two streams have
receded so as to fill but a small portion of their beds, leaving the
rest in the form of two long strips of plain extending toward
each other and finally uniting. Between them for a mile or so
runs a high bank or ridge, which serves as a road. Thus in the
triangular space formed by the approximation and junction of
the two rivers there is a great deal of room, and it is here that
the Hindus assemble preparatory to dipping in the waters of
the great streams at the supremely sacred spot where they
unite. Perhaps two thousand pilgrims had got off the train in which
my wife and I, together with our friend, — the local Catholic
priest, — had come up from Benares, and the railroad track
was lined with masses of brilliant color from turban and sari,
such as the sober West never dreams of. Not a carriage was to
be had, but we managed to secure two ekkas and in these we
sailed away through the surging crowd toward the goal of our
pilgrimage — though with no great speed and with less com
fort. An ekka, let me say for those who are not acquainted
with the East, is a two-wheeled cart with no seat — you simply
squat, native fashion, anywhere on the floor with the driver,
or on the edge and let your feet hang off over the side, and
hold on for dear life: for when the horse gallops the motion is
not unlike that of a ship in distress. Perched grandly on our
ekkas, then, we found ourselves a part of a great procession,
moving over the dusty road, and at every moment on the point
of running over some pious pilgrim just ahead. As we got far
ther out of the city other roads emptied their human currents
into ours, and when we reached a point of some elevation from
which we could look out over the country ahead we found the
fields also filled, for miles, with marching columns and the air
38

SACRIFICIAL BATHING AT ALLAHABAD MELA

THE HINDU PILGRIM
clouded with dust as from the tramp of armies. As we approached
the river beds the road merged into a stretch of sand, where we
finally had to alight and join the pilgrims on foot, as they
trudged along the ridge between the two streams. The sides of
this broad roadway were lined with booths where all sorts of
things were on sale, from gods to sweetmeats. Many temporary
restaurants had been set up, where every kind of indigestible
was to be had ; also many half-religious side-shows, acclaimed by
drum, conch, and cymbal. All these booths were built of large
square bamboo mats, that could be put together at a moment's
notice so as to form houses of any desired shape. Over most of
them, at the top of long bamboo poles, waved banners with
strange devices — Hindu gods, mythical animals, Urdoo in
scriptions, or merely strips of varied brilliant colors. Beggars
there were, of course, by the hundred — blind, crippled, lep
rous, — and holy men by the score. Most of these had little
camps of their own — a fire of dried cow-dung in the open,
beside which they sat on their skins of various wild beasts,
smoking their water-pipes and watching the passing crowd with
an expression of conscious superiority and disdain. The hair of
holy men is usually very long — several yards long, indeed, for
they buy it by the yard — and it looks very much like rope,
and not unnaturally, for most of it is. They wear it in a highly
matted condition, and wind it about the back of their heads
somewhat as European women do. Their bodies and especially
their faces are smeared and caked with clay and with ashes of
cow-dung, and they have very little on. Usually they wear
nothing but an exceedingly small loin-cloth, and we saw one at
the mela who had dispensed with even that. The priest told
me that at the mela of the preceding year there was a proces
sion of two hundred of these wonderfully holy and absolutely
stark naked saints. Of course, one is supposed to contribute to
the support of these good men, and they regularly have a cloth
spread out in front of them for the reception of the coins thrown
them by the passing crowd. If you contribute, however, you
must not expect them to thank you — not they! — the pleas
ure and profit are yours and the favor all on their side — as
you can see from the expression on their faces. For have they
not enabled you thereby to acquire merit? And they know
39

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
very well that it is far more blessed to give than to receive. So
most of the passing pilgrims contribute to at least a few of the
many saints and go onward in increasing blessedness.
Some of the pilgrims were themselves vying with the holy
men by the mode of their progress. Far from traveling in a
luxurious ekka, they were not even on foot, but were measuring
the distance by their own length on the ground — lying down
on their bellies, stretching their arms forward and making a
mark in the sand, then rising and lying down again with their
toes in the mark their hands had made, so covering the dis
tance like a measuring-worm.
As we approached the junction of the rivers we came upon a
veritable city of temporary huts of bamboo mats, in which
thousands of the pilgrims were preparing to spend the night.
It would be hard to compare the scene to anything in America;
but if you should put together a county fair, a circus, a camp-
meeting, and a fancy-dress lawn party, you would get a mix
ture distantly approaching it. The sun was now setting over
the Jumna, and those of the pilgrims who were lucky enough
to have anything to eat were finishing their evening meal; so
we left the encampment and raced with the fast-descending
Indian darkness, back over the sandy roads and through the
dust-filled air and fading golden light to our ekkas, which
(after more than an hour's jolting) brought us to Laurie's
Great Northern Hotel, where we found a score of Europeans
who had come to town to hear three long-haired Hungarian
third-rate violinists play cheap music. For most of these
Europeans had probably never heard of the mela, and those
who had evidently considered it quite unworthy of a sahib's
interest. The next morning at dawn we were off again for the sacred
waters, through streets flowing with two streams of humanity
— the greater one going with us, the lesser but still good-sized
one returning after having already washed away their sins. It
was, on the whole, a happy-looking crowd and certainly an in
teresting one. Most of the pilgrims carried an extra dress — or
cloth, or rag! — to put on after bathing, and many had their
day's provisions and various other impedimenta in their hands
and on their heads. Of course, a brass or wooden or earthen
40

THE HINDU PILGRIM
bowl was part of the equipment of nearly all : and many of those
returning were treasuring a water-bottle (of brass or glass)
filled with the sacred liquid.
When we reached the ridge and left our carriage to join the
pilgrims on foot, we found most of the same sights as on the
preceding evening, with a few additional ones. In the distance
ahead- of us, for instance, were two long bamboo poles that
were waving violently to and fro like the masts of a ship in a
storm. As we approached them we saw dimly that something
was suspended between them. And then it became a little hard
— and rather unpleasant — to believe our eyes : for the form
took human shape, and we found it was a man (a "holy" man,
of course) suspended by his feet, head downward, and being
swung back and forth by another holy man over a large fire. At
each swing his head (which was wrapped in a thick and steam
ing cloth) went through the top of the flame. His fingers were
pressed together in the attitude of prayer and I do not doubt
that he was praying. Not much farther on a rival holy man was
swinging in the same way over another fire; and the gaping
crowd was paying to each the wonder that they probably de
sired. Yet it would be unjust to these men, I believe, to assume
that notoriety was their chief aim. There are easier ways of
gaining this, in India as elsewhere, than by hanging head-down
over a roaring fire. And we shall hardly approximate an un
derstanding of this strange phenomenon of Indian asceticism
unless we recognize in it a sincere desire to crucify the flesh for
the advancement of the spirit.
On our way back the stream of pilgrims coming to bathe was
even greater than ever, and the various striking features more
numerous than they had been. One of the holy men, to be sure,
had disappeared from his gallows, but the other one was still
swinging, though this time by an arm — three hours after we
had first seen him. Hundreds of pilgrims of unmistakably
Mongolian features met us, probably from the borders of
Nepal. The road was lined for a mile with two unbroken rows
of beggars, mostly women, with cloths spread out before them
for thereception, not of copper coins, — thatwould have been too
much to ask! — but of rice; and many of the passing pilgrims
would throw a few rice grains — perhaps five or ten — on some
41

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
of the cloths — not chiefly for the benefit of the beggar, I
presume, but for the acquisition of merit. The luckiest of these
poor women whom we passed had as yet hardly collected more
than two handfuls of rice. In one place we saw a band of music
approaching us leading a company of women crowned with
wreaths of jasmine. "Who are these in bright array?" I asked
my friend the priest. "These," said he, "are public prostitutes
coming to wash away their sins — and acquire a new crop."
And so the liying stream poured on all day. The official esti
mate of the numbers attending the mela from first to last was
seven hundred thousand. The year previous there had been
between one and two million.
In the middle of January the best place to wash away sin is
probably Allahabad. But for a steady thing, day in and day
out through the year, there is no place like Benares. It has
been the center for this business a great many centuries. No
one knows how old the city is. We only know that it was al
ready ancient and very sacred five hundred years before the
birth of Christ. It has been destroyed, piecemeal, many times,
but it has always risen, like the Phcenix, from its ashes, more
resplendent than ever. The rich and great have vied with each
other in adorning it with temples and monasteries; and its
water-front especially is one of the most picturesque sights to
be found anywhere in the world. For two miles and a half the
Ganges is bordered, on the city side, with temples and palaces,
mosques and dharamshalas from which the ghats lead down to
the water; and these are lined with men and women, in various
brilliant costumes — or strange lack of costume — bathing
and praying. It is a very busy scene, for religion is the one
great business of Benares. Its streets and temples and ghats-
are forever full of a flood of strangers in two great streams, one
of them arriving and importing with them into the city a little
money and great quantities of sin, the other leaving for home
lighter in both conscience and purse. The sins have gone into
the Ganges, and the money into the pockets of the priests and
the stomachs of the Brahmins. The detail of the process of
ridding one's self of sin is very complex, but in general there
are two things that one must do, namely, bathe in the river,
with the recital of the proper prayers, and visit the most sacred
42

THE HINDU PILGRIM
of the temples and do puja to Shiva, who in Benares is the
Great God, Mahadev. Besides these things one must, as a
matter of course, pay the priests liberally, both at the river and
in the temples — and everywhere give alms to the holy men.
These holy men, like those at Allahabad, are persuaded that it
is more blessed to give than to receive; and they have conse
crated their lives to making the pious pilgrims as blessed as
possible. There are many monasteries and many dharamshalas,
or rest-houses, where hundreds of them are fed every day. The
mornings they spend on the ghats or near the temples, bathing,
praying, begging alms, conversing, or simply "meditating."
After their one daily meal they spend the entire afternoon
meditating. The contemplative life is not a thing of the past in
Benares. Most readers of this book will have heard of the old
man who described his daily life by saying: "Sometimes I set
and think, and sometimes I just set." It seems probable that, a
large part of the time, most of the holy men of Benares "just
set." It must be remembered, however, that the "holy men"
most in evidence — loafing about the Golden Temple and
making long prayefS on the ghats — are far from representing
the really spiritual side of the Hindu religion. Holy men there
are in Benares much more worthy of this name; but these
seldom do business on the water-front for the benefit of the
tourist. Religion, I have said, is a business on the Benares water
front; but it may be a pleasant or even a joyous business, min
gling a mild gayety with earnestness and solemnity. When one
has returned from the ghats he feels as if he had been visiting,
all at once, a Catholic Church, a county fair, and Atlantic City.
*A few reverent men one will always find, finishing their ablu
tions and praying toward the sun with unmistakable devout-
ness. Many widows and other women there are, bathing care
fully and seriously; and side by side with them others who seem
to be having a rather jolly time of it. Children are there, run
ning about all over the broad steps; barbers by the score plying
their trade (for to have one's head shaved is a religious rite) ;
snake-charmers exhibiting their scorpions and making neck
laces of their serpents; dhobis or washerwomen — and washer
men — slapping some sahib's clothes against a rock or pound-
43

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
ing them with a stone so that the buttons all come off — for
soap is a luxury quite unknown to the Indian dhobi; ascetics
and sannyasins begging baksheesh; would-be guides soliciting
your patronage and boatmen offering their services; women
climbing the steps, carrying homeward their daily load of
Ganges water in brilliantly polished brass pots; coolies landing
merchandise (for the ghats are used for commercial as well as
for religious purposes) from rickety old tub-like sail-boats
with moth-eaten sails that have come from Chunar or some
more distant river town; and priests by the hundred, most of
them fat, with bare arms and breasts, each sitting under a big
straw umbrella, and busied in putting the mark of the Great
God on the foreheads of the faithful — for a consideration.
Then there are other men in little groups, engaged, like the
coolies, in carrying burdens, but these not of a commercial
nature — unless you count as such that commerce which sets
out upon the Unknown Sea. These burdens of theirs are wound
round with red or white cloth and fastened to two long bamboo
poles with two men at each end. They have come through the
streets of the city, and perhaps from some distant village, sing
ing with every step: "Ram is true! Ram is true! He creates
and He destroys." Arrived at the burning-ghat they set their
burden down, dipping its feet in the river, and there they leave
it till they have bought wood from the contractor (who regards
business as business), and built the funeral pyre close to the
water's edge. Before doing this they may have to wait till one
of the fires they find burning has consumed its burden — for
the burning-ghat is a busy place, night and day, and there is
not always room for the newcomer. When the pyre is built the
nearest relative of the deceased goes to the temple and haggles
with the keeper of the sacred fire over the price of a spark; and
having paid what is required he brings the fire down in smould
ering straw and lights the pile. If the family can afford to buy
enough wood, the body is completely consumed; in any case
the ashes or whatever is left on the exhaustion of the fire is
thrown into the sacred river; — and any failure on the part of
the fire to do its full duty is made good by the fish and the
crocodiles. Whatever it be, Mother Ganga receives it all into
her bosom, and we need not inquire too curiously as to what
44

THE HINDU PILGRIM
happens there. The Hindu does not inquire. When the fire is
out, he breaks an earthen jar filled with water upon the spot
where the pyre has burned, and, looking neither to the right nor
to the left, goes homeward, thinking not of the body but of the
spirit that is gone. For death is only an incident in the long
journey of the Hindu pilgrim.

CHAPTER IV
THE MANY GODS
THE most popular god in India is Shiva, or Mahadev. His
popularity is partly the/esult of his very complex char
acter. He has absorbed into himself varying and "even con
tradictory qualities, so that worshipers of every taste may be
satisfied in him. His most ancient aspect is that of terror. In
the Rig Veda — for he goes back to Vedic times — he is known
as Rudra, the Ruddy, the Storm God, the Terrible One. He is
the Destroyer, and deals in death ; he is Time, and devours all.
This ancient aspect of his character Shiva has in our times
largely laid aside or rather has turned it over to his consort
Kali. In fact the name "Shiva" itself means the "Auspicious
One, " and as such he is regarded not merely as the Destroyer,
but still more as the Regenerator. If he destroys it is to renew:
and thus destruction becomes, like many a process of nature,
merely a part of eternal regeneration and development. In this
sense the Great God might almost be described as the more or
less personal Power of Nature, — a Power that is irresistible,
omnipresent, and beyond good and evil. It is to this aspect of
Shiva that the phallic elements in his worship belong. His is
the Reproductive Power of Nature; and thus he is also the
beneficent producer of blessings, the_JELtexrially_^kssed_One:
This aspect of Shiva gives him a kind of cosmic largeness which
is typically Indian. A third aspect of the Great God is less
cosmic, but not less characteristic of Indian thought. He is,
namely, the Great Ascetic, dwelling alone among the mountains,
in eternal meditation, passionless, immovable.1 It is this per
haps more than anything else that has made Shiva the most
popular god in India ; for in being the perfect ascetic who has
renounced everything and is plunged forever in meditation he >
1 Besides the three aspects of Shiva that I have described (Destroyer,
Nature Force, Ascetic), Monier Williams enumerates two others: a learned
sage, the revealer of grammar; a wild and jovial mountaineer, fond of
dancing, drinking, and good living.
46

THE MANY GODS
represents the dearest ideal of this land. Sister Nivedita can
put this most important aspect of Shiva — and of India —
much better than I : —
"In India life has one test, one standard, and one alone.
Does a man know God or not? That is all. No question of
fruits, no question of activity, no question of happiness. Only
— has the soul set out on the quest of realization? . . . [When
this is done] all the manifold satisfactions of the flesh become a
burden. Home and kindred and intercourse with the world be
come a bondage. Food and sleep and the necessities of the
physical life seem indifferent or intolerable. And so it comes
that the Great God of the Hindu imagination is a beggar.
Covered with the ashes of His sacrificial fire, so that He is
white like snow, His hair growing untended in large masses,
oblivious of cold or heat, silent, remote from men, He sits ab
sorbed in eternal meditation. Those eyes of His are half closed.
. . . But one faculty is all activity. Within it has been indrawn
all the force of all the senses. Upright in the middle of the fore
head looks forth the third eye, the eye of inner vision.
"He is the refuge of animals. About His neck are wound the
serpents whom none else would receive. Never did He turn any
away. The mad one, the eccentric, the crazed and queer, and
the half-witted amongst men — for all these there is room
with Shiva. His love will embrace even the demoniac. He ac
cepts that which all reject. All the pain and evil of the universe
He took as His share to save the world, when He drank the
poison of things, and made His throat blue forever. He pos
sesses so little ! Only the old bull on which He rides, and the
tiger-skin for meditation, and a string or two of praying beads
— no more.
"Such is the picture that springs to the Indian mind as
representing the Soul of the Universe — Shiva, the All-Merci
ful, the Destroyer of Ignorance, the Great God. . . . Perfect
renunciation, perfect with-drawnness, perfect absorption in
eternity — these things alone are worthy to be told concerning
Him who is 'the Sweetest of the Sweet, the most Terrible of
the Terrible, the Lord of Heroes, and the Wondrous-Eyed.' " 1
1 Kali, the Mother (London, Sonnenschein, 1900), pp. 30-33, somewhat
abridged. 47

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
On the face of a rock at Mahabalipuram, a few miles south
of Madras and near the sea, there is a gigantic relief, sculp
tured no one knows how many centuries ago, and called "The
Penance of Arjun," which places the Indian's concept of Shiva
before one's eyes in plastic form. In the center stands the
Great God, while before him appear representatives of the
whole animate creation from the supreme human being, the
ascetic, down to the elephant with his mighty tusks and
trunk, the human-headed cobra with his hood, and many
another beast both real and mythical — all of them doing
homage with unmistakable reverence to Mahadev.
It is uncertain whether the personal aspect of the Great God
as the loving ascetic, or his impersonal aspect as the Force back
of Nature, was most in the mind of the artist who chiseled this
group — or is most in the mind of the Indian. The two aspects
sway back and forward and alternate, one changing into the
other. Shiva is made all things to all men that by all means he
may please some. For those who desire a personal god he is
the Great Hermit, seated among the eternal snows of the Hima
layas; or (for the more vulgar) he is the Destroyer of Demons
and the Protector of his own, dwelling in the heavenly Kailash
with his wife and his two sons, his army of warrior spirits and
the souls of his departed worshipers who have been faithful in
their puja to him through life. For the more philosophical, —
e.g., for the Shiva sect known as "Lingayats," — he is "infin
ite intelligence and joy, the creator of the world, and the in
structor and redeemer of mankind." l For a large part of the
Vedanta philosophers he is really one aspect of Brahman, the
impersonal consciousness which alone is real. To these think
ers Shiva is the personification of the Impersonal, the manifes
tation of the Unmanifesting. And in this light Sister Nivedita
writes of him: "Undoubtedly this Hindu idea of Shiva is the
highest conception of God as approached by the spiritual in
tuition of man. He is the Divine accessible within and purified
of all externals." 2
Whether one can agree with Sister Nivedita in this high
1 R. G. Bhandarkar, Vaisnavism, Saivism, and Minor Religious Systems
(Strassburg, Triibner, 1913), p. 156.
2 The Master as I saw Him (Calcutta Udbodhan Office, 1910), p. 161.
48

THE MANY GODS
praise will depend largely upon one's opinion on the question
whether morality should be a part of the character of the
Divine. In the conception of Shiva at its best the cosmic has
nearly crowded out the moral; like other Indian gods he is too
great to be good. He is "beyond good andevil." But whether x-
the reader admires Shiva or not, he can now, I hope, under
stand to some extent the intense devotion of his votaries to
their God. So highly cultured a thinker as Swami Viveka-
nanda, a man who had lived in Europe and America for years
and knew Western thought almost as well as Eastern, could
find in Mahadev the fulfillment of nearly all his needs. In
the ice-cavern of Amarnath among the Himalayas, a shrine of
Shiva to which he made a pilgrimage, he had a vision of the
Great God. " As he entered the Cave, it seemed to him as if
he saw Shiva made visible before him. Amidst the buzzing,
swarming noise of the pilgrim crowd, and the overhead flut
tering of the pigeons, he knelt and prostrated two or three
times unnoticed; and then, afraid lest emotion might over
come him, he rose and silently withdrew." x And again and
again in hours of silent meditation and prayer he was overheard
murmuring: "O Shiva! Shiva!" As Sister Nivedita says of
Shiva's devotees in general: "To them there is nothing in the
world so strong and pure and all-merciful as their God, and
the books and poems of Hindus are very few in which he is
not referred to with this passionate worship." 2
Shiva is the most popular god in India, but he has not the
largest number of exclusive worshipers. This honor is reserved
for the other great god of Hinduism — Vishnu, _ These two
gods, together with their wives and incarnations, divide be
tween them almost the whole cult of Hinduism. Many Hindus
worship both; but a great many devote themselves exclusively
to the worship of one only, regarding him as the one divine real
ity, of whom all other gods are but names and forms. Devotees
of a special god in this special way are known as sectarians; and
the two great sects of India are, of course, the Vaishnavites or
devotees of Vishnu, and the Shaivites or the devotees of Shiva.
As I have indicated above, the Vaishnavites (if we include
1 The Master as I saw Him (Calcutta Udbodhan Office, 1910), p. 158.
2 The Web of Indian Life (London, Heinemann, 1904), p. 219.
49

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
among them the worshipers of Vishnu's incarnations) are the
more numerous of the two.
The name Vishnu and his cult go back to Vedic times; but
the god as conceived and worshiped to-day includes many
other elements beside the Vedic. As a great river carries with
it the waters of many a tributary, Vishnu has absorbed into
himself the characteristics of several deities of the Indian past,
with whom in the course of centuries he has become identified.
Mr. Bhandarkar has recently pointed out four of these as es
pecially important: (i) the Vedic Vishnu, who was a sun god;
(2) Vasudeva, perhaps originally a man who after his death
was deified, and whose cult came to be especially characterized
by devotion and by a theistic rather than a pantheistic view of
God; (3) Narayana, a name for the Supreme (and pantheistic)
Spirit in late Brahmanic times: and (4) Krishna — of whom
more presently.1
Being combined from so many different elements, the con
ception of Vishnu, like that of Shiva, varies with his various
worshipers. He is sometimes pictured as a personal being, dwell
ing with his wife in a definite locality; sometimes he is con
ceived as the Infinite Spirit, present everywhere and appearing
in all phenomena as the Real behind the seeming. This larger
and philosophical aspect is more emphasized by worshipers
than is the philosophic aspect of Shiva; and his more defi
nitely personal side is correspondingly undeveloped. Still,
something may be said of it. Vishnu resides in a distant heaven
with his wife Lakshmi — in fact some give him three wives.
Like Shiva he has four hands, each of which is commonly repre
sented as holding an emblem peculiar to himself — usually the
conch, symbolic of creative sound, the mace for sovereignty,
the charkra (or wheel) for energy, and the lotus for spirit and
matter. Often he is pictured as reclining with his wife on the
great serpent Sesha, while Brahma — the ancient creator —
issues from his navel. If Brahma is the Creator and Shiva the
Destroyer, Vishnu is the Preserver. There is nothing in his
cult (as in that of Shiva) that is frightful or terrible. He is em
phatically the Indian God of Love — with all that that im
plies for good and evil. For his philosophical worshiper he is,
1 Bhandarkar, op. cit.
50

THE MANY GODS
of course, much more than this, being in fact the sole Reality,
of whom the entire material world and all spirits of men and
gods form but the body. This, however, is a conception that
will detain us in a later chapter. But here something must be
said of one unique and most important characteristic of Vishnu,
namely, the conception that he has appeared to men and lived
among them in the form of avatars or incarnations.
No one can say why or how this doctrine of incarnation
arose, but once started it proved peculiarly popular among
Vaishnavites, and in fact Vishnu is worshiped to-day chiefly
through his avatars. He has, indeed, incarnated himself not ,
once but many times, the number usually being put at ten.
Several of these were animal forms; but as only two of Vishnu's
incarnations, and these both human, are taken seriously by
Hindus to-day, I shall not trouble the reader with the list. The
list is, indeed, retained by pious Hindus pro forma — just as the
doctrine of the damnation of unbaptized infants and of the
heathen was long retained by many good Christians as a pious
form of words long after all real belief in it had become im
possible. But that God — the one God — became incarnate in
the man Rama or in the man Krishna is a very living belief
with millions of devout Vaishnavites.
Of these two incarnations Ram or Rama (both spellings are
common) is the older and (according to Western notions) the
more admirable; he is also the less popular. Some divisions
of the Vaishnavite sect regard him as very God of very God
— hardly even as an incarnation. To them the one great name
for God is " Ram." He first appears in the heroic poem of Val-
miki (written perhaps 500 B.C.) as a brave and noble prince,
with, however, no suggestion of being in any sense divine. The
story of the loss of his faithful wife Sita and his recovery of
her is one of the favorite tales of India and has exerted a con
siderable influence for thousands of years in moulding Indian
ideals of manly courage and womanly fidelity and devotion.
Sita is stolen by the arch-demon Ravana and eventually re
covered by Rama, who slays the demon through the aid of
his faithful friend Hanuman, the monkey god. Incidentally let
me add that the story thus explains the popularity of Hanu
man, who to us Westerners, ignorant of Hindu mythology,
51

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
seems a very horrid creature because we take him to be merely
a monkey ; while to the Hindu he stands for all that is fine in
faithful friendship. This original story of Ram and his friends
long antedates the Indian concept of incarnation. When, now,
the new idea had taken root, Rama was made one of Vishnu's
avatars, and Valmiki's poem was to some extent made over (by
additions and interpolations) ; and finally in the Ramayana,1
written about 1600 by Tulsi Das in Hindi, — the real Bible of the
Rama worshipers to-day, — Rama is portrayed as the complete
incarnation of the Absolute and Supreme Spirit. The old story
is retained and repeated, but not for a moment are we allowed
to forget that Rama, for all his human form, is in fact the
Supreme Being. The mystery and beauty of the incarnation
idea has seldom been more strikingly expressed. The following
lines will convey some notion of the general religious attitude
of the poem toward the Incarnate One : —
"Seers and sages, saints and hermits, fix on Him their reverent gaze.
And in faint and trembling accents Holy Scripture hymns His praise.
He, the omnipresent Spirit, Lord of heaven and earth and hell,
To redeem his people, freely, has vouchsafed with men to dwell." '
The Gospel of Rama according to Tulsi Das is certainly one
of the most important and widespread influences in Hinduism
to-day. Ninety million people in upper India are said to accept
.it as the core of their religion. According to Mr. Grierson, "All
forms of religion, all beliefs and all forms of non-belief in the
ordinary polytheism of the many Hindu cults, were to Tulsi
Das but so many accidents beside the great truths on which he
was never weary of laying stress: namely, that there is one Su
preme Being; that sin is hateful, not because it defiles the sinner,
but because it is incompatible with the Supreme Being; that
man is by nature infinitely sinful and unworthy of salvation;
that, nevertheless, the Supreme Being, in his infinite mercy,
became incarnate in the person of Rama to relieve the world of
sin; that this Rama has returned to heaven, and is there, as
Rama, now; that mankind has therefore a God who is not only
infinitely merciful but who knows by actual experience how
1 This is the name by which the poem is commonly known; the name
given it by its author is Rama Manas Charita.
a Translation by Growse (Allahabad, 1883).
52

THE MANY GODS
great are man's infirmities and temptations, and who, though
himself incapable of sin, is ever ready to extend his help to the
sinful being that calls upon him." 1
Rama, whether in his anthropomorphic or in his more phil
osophical form, is certainly one of the finest figures of the
Hindu pantheon. He is not, however, the most commonly
worshiped. In popularity he cannot equal Vishnu's other
great avatar — Krishna. But while Krishna is much more
popular than Rama, the origin of his worship is thought by
many to have been humbler, and his character as depicted in
the story of his incarnation is unquestionably less noble. The
Indians, of course, believe Krishna to have been a real histor
ical person, and in this they have the backing of some Western
scholars — notably of Professor Garbe, whose Einleitung to
his recent translation of the Bhagavad Gita is one of the most
important studies of the Krishna cult. Professor Garbe believes
Krishna to have lived about two hundred years before Buddha,
to have been the son of Vasudeva, to have founded a monothe
istic and ethical religion, and eventually to have been deified
and identified with the monotheistic god Vasudeva whose
worship he founded.2 Whether this be accepted or not, there are
certain elements in the Krishna cult, as found in the Puranas
and various other books, which are far from moral and which
do not seem to have originated in the rather pure worship of
Vasudeva. Professor Bhandarkar supposes that these elements
originated among a nomadic tribe of cowherds, whose god
came to be identified with that of Krishna-Vasudeva when,
about the beginning of the Christian era, they migrated from
the Punjab to the Ganges Valley. However this may be, the
cult of Krishna Vasudeva was early associated with that of
Vishnu, and when the incarnation concept became popular he
was accepted as the chief avatar of the Supreme Being, and in
fact as quite identical with him.
"Though birthless and unchanging of essence" (Krishna-
Vishnu is made in the Bhagavad Gita to say of himself) "and
though Lord of born beings, yet in my sway over the Nature
1 Imperial Gazetteer of India, vol. n (Oxford, Clarendon Press, 1909),
p. 418.
8 Die Bhagavad Gita (Leipsig, Hoessal, 1905), pp. 19-37.
53

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
that is mine own I come into birth by mine own magic. For
whensoever Religion fails and lawlessness uprises, I bring my
self to bodied birth. To guard the righteous, to destroy evil
doers, to establish Religion I come into birth age after age." '
As I have said, Krishna is considered by all good Hindus a
historical character. The story of his life is told in several of the
Vaishnavite Puranas (or historico- theological works), while he
is represented as the speaker in that most sacred book of all
Hindu religious literature, the Bhagavad Gita. The story told
in the Puranas, if taken literally, does not make very elevated
reading; but in the earlier Puranas, at any rate, it is impossible
to take the story literally, so obvious and unescapable is the in
tent of the writer to present not so much a tale as an allegory
of God and the soul. Krishna is a man — yes, in a sense. Yet
at every turn the god shines through. Whoever reads the
Vishnu Purana or the Bhagavad Purana in literal and legal
istic fashion will therefore quite miss the point. One must take
the Oriental point of view and be prepared for much symbol
ism if he would understand.
The incarnation of Vishnu in the human form of Krishna and
the consequent spread of true religion is thus portrayed in the
Vishnu Purana: "The divine Vishnu himself, the god of the
vast universal tree, inscrutable by the understanding of all the
gods, demons, and sages past, present, and to come, he who is
without beginning, middle or end, being moved to relieve the
earth of her load, descended into the womb of Devaki and was
born as her son Vasudeva [= Vishnu = Krishna]. Yoganindra,
proud to execute his orders, removed the embryo to Yasoda,
the wife of Nandi the cowherd. At his birth the earth was re
lieved from all iniquity; the sun, moon, and planets shone with
unclouded splendor; all fear of calamitous portents was dis
pelled; and universal happiness prevailed. From the moment
he appeared all mankind were led into the righteous path in
him. While this Powerful Being resided in this world he had
16,000 wives. ... By these the Universal Form begot 180,000
sons." 2
1 Bhagavad Gita, iv, 6-8. Barnett's translation (London, Dent, 1905).
2 Vishnu Purana, iv, 15. Wilson's translation (London, Trilbner,
1864-77). 54

THE MANY GODS
Krishna was thus born in a most lowly condition, as the son
of a cowherd, and was brought up by his foster father Nandi
and his — what shall we call her? — quasi-mother Yasoda, in
their rude and rustic home, which is now identified by pious
Hindus as the village of Mahaban, on the Jumna. Throughout
his infancy and babyhood he performed many marvelous and
magical exploits, but nothing in the story suggests that he had
any kind of moral distinction. Like other rustics he played
upon the flute and loved the dance, and all the milkmaids of
the country-side — the "Gopis" as they are called — lost their
hearts to him. His exploits among them seem to have been
anything but exemplary. This decidedly immoral element in
the Krishna concept probably came from the original Krishna
legend of the wandering tribes of herdsmen with whom his cult
is thought to have originated. It is interesting, therefore, to note
that the philosophic writer of the Vishnu Purana makes use of
this erotic element in the same way in which Christian theolo
gians and especially Christian mystics in the Middle Ages made
use of the erotic elements in the Song of Songs. To all of these
writers earthly love was merely a symbol of the relation of the
soul to God. "Whilst He was frolicking thus with the Gopis,"
says the Vishnu Purana, " they considered every instant
without Him as a myriad of years. . . . Thus the illimitable
Being, the benevolent remover of all imperfections, assumed
the character of youth amongst the maidens of the herds
men of Vraja; pervading their natures and that of their lords
by His own essence, all-diffusive like the wind. For even as in
all creatures the elements of ether, fire, earth, water, and air are
comprehended, so also is He everywhere present and in all." J
Even in the Purana, then, Krishna makes no pretense at
being chaste or pure. When the question arose who should
be entrusted with a certain miraculous jewel, Krishna said it
must be kept only by some person who was pure. "Now," he
added, "as I have 16,000 wives I am not qualified for the care
of it." The conception of the Puranas seems to be both that
the actions of the god are sport, and that the moral category
does not apply to him, and also that most of the tales concern
ing him have a symbolical as well as a literal significance.
1 Vishnu Purana, v, 13.
55

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
It is, perhaps, in part, this elusive, this multiform nature of
Krishna that has made him, next to Shiva, the most popular
deity of Hinduism. By his many attributes he is able to appeal
to the high and to the low, to the philosophical and the ignorant,
to the lofty and the immoral. The picture of the Infinite God in
the body of a little helpless child has the same immense appeal
in India that it has in Christendom. As every Catholic church
at Christmas-time has its crdche, with a miniature Jesus lying
in a manger, so all over India you will find shrines of the baby
Krishna, in which images of the divine child are tended as if it
were a living baby. The center of his worship is Mahaban,
where according to the tale his infancy was passed. It is a
place of pilgrimage to pious Vaishnavites, and I made a pil
grimage thither among them. The center of interest in the
little isolated village is the so-called "Palace of Nandi" — a
hall with many curiously carved stone pillars, near one end of
which are large wooden images of Nandi and Yasoda, Krishna's
foster father and mother, while mementoes of Krishna's boy
hood are preserved with pious credulity and care in various
parts of the building — the most important of these being an
enormous cane which is exhibited as Yasoda 's churning-stick.
But the devotion of the good Vaishnavite worshipers is cen
tered on a large cradle in which sits a baby doll, gorgeously
dressed, and representing, of course, the infant Krishna. A big
Brahmin priest was standing by the cradle as we entered the
hall, deferentially rocking it, so as to give the baby god his
daily nap. This is part of the regular service, performed in
many a temple of Krishna every day. I append in a note other
details of the cult, as practiced by one of the sub-sects of the
Vaishnavas.1 1 After an elaborate series of performances, — bathing, the recitation of
mantras, etc., — the devotee "should approach the bedroom [of the child
Krishna] and sing a song calling upon Krishna to rise from sleep, to take re
freshments prepared for him and to go with his companions to the forest for
grazing the cows. Krishna should be brought out and placed on the throne.
Radha [his favorite wife] should be placedon his left hand and then the wor
shiper should prostrate himself before her. The refreshments already pre
pared should then be placed before them, and they should be requested to
eat them. Then the bed should be dusted and cleaned and Krishna should
be made to wash his mouth. Other refreshments should then be placed be
fore the two. At the end of all, a waving of lamps should be gone through
56

THE MANY GODS
The boy Krishna is even a greater favorite than the baby.
All over India images and pictures of him are to be found, in
the easy posture of boyhood, playing on the pipe 1 — symbol of
the divine activity which is always play. When these represen
tations of Krishna are in color, the color is always deep blue.
This does not please Western eyes, and the tourist is therefore
likely to conclude that Krishna is a "horrid little nigger" —
not knowing that nearly everything in India is symbolic and
that the blue of Krishna's face, like the blue of the sea and of
the sky, in the eyes of the Hindu stands for infinity.
"The popular and growing belief of the Hindu masses,"
writes Sister Nivedita, "consists of various forms of the wor
ship of Krishna. It is this creed that carries to those who need
it a religious emotionalism like that of the Salvation Army or
of Methodism. In the hottest nights, during periods of 're
vivals,' the streets of a city will be crowded with men bearing
lights and banners, and dancing themselves into a frenzy to
such words as: — '" Call on the Lord,
Call on the Lord,
Call on the Lord, little brother!
Than this name of the Lord
For mortal man
There is no other way.'
He is known as the Holy Child, born in humility amidst
cowherds by the Jumna; the Gentle Shepherd of the People,
the Wise Counsellor, the Blessed Lord, tender Lover and
Savior of the human soul; and by other names not less familiar
to ourselves. It is an image of the baby Krishna that the
Indian mother adores as the Bambino, calling it 'Gopala,' her
with song. Then comes the bath. After bathing, saffron paint should be
applied [to the image]. He should then be dressed and milk be given him.
Afterwards by the churning of milk froth should be prepared and offered to
Krishna. He should then be told to wash his mouth with water. Then
betel leaves should be offered him. Then a cradle should be adorned and
Krishna should be told to get into it, and it should be rocked and toys be got
ready for the divine boy. Afterwards the midday dinner should be prepared.
... In this manner the ceremonies go on. A meal is again prepared at night
and Krishna is laid on the sleeping-cot and made to sleep again." (Bhan
darkar, op. cit., p. 8 1.) This is a description of the cult as practiced by the
Vallabha sect.
1 See the picture on the cover of this volume.
57

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
cowherd. His name fills gospels and poems, the folk-songs of all
Hindu races are full of descriptions of Him as a cowherd wan
dering and sporting amongst His fellows; and childish litera
ture is full of stories of Him curiously like European tales of
the Christ-child. To the ecstatic mystic, He is the Divine
Spouse." J
The reader will have noted, without my pointing them out
to him, the two very diverging tendencies in the concept of
Krishna, one lofty, philosophical, mystic, the other low and
sensual. Both these elements in the Krishna concept have had
their influence and their following; and so we find, besides the
general and popular Krishna cult, two groups of special devo
tees, one of whom has emphasized the erotic and one the
philosophical aspect of their god. The former and lower of
these tendencies is seen in several Vaishnavite sects, some of
which center their worship particularly on Radha, who in the
later sectarian works is represented as Krishna's favorite mis
tress. In their worship of the passionate pair these Vaish
navites regard sexual passion as the type of divine love and as
the means of entering into communion with the deity.2 The
climax of this "religious" filth was attained by the sect founded
about 1500 by Vallabha and still existing in parts of India. This
man not only preached the doctrine of divine union by means
of sensual passion indicated above, but succeeded in persuading
his many followers that he and all his male descendants were
incarnations of Krishna. I cannot detail here the unspeakably
vile practices to which this led, but some of them may be
imagined: and the reader can find them exposed at length in
"The History of the Sect of the Maharajas," s which reports
1 The Web of Indian Life, pp. 224-25.
2 This abuse of Vaishnavism has its parallel in an abuse of Christianity
to be found in an offshoot of the Russian Church called the Skoptsy. Among
the members of this sect the Virgin Mary has a position similar to that of
Radha among the sensual sects of Vaishnavites. She is represented in their
meetings by a beautiful girl; and their methods of attaining union with the
Divine are quite on a par with those of India. But these Russian Christians
are not content with licentious worship. They add to it the horror of eating
human flesh which they have cut from the girl whom they adore as the
Madonna. See Tsakni, La Russie Sectaire (Paris, Plon et Nourrit, 1888),
chap. v.
* Published in London, 1865. 58

THE MANY GODS
the findings at the famous Bombay libel suit in i860, in which
the bestialities of this "religious" sect were brought to light.
In connection with this sensual aspect of the lower forms of
Hinduism, an Indian philosopher said to me : "An earnest effort
is being made to put a stop to this sort of thing, but it has not
succeeded and probably never will succeed fully. The sect
of the Maharajas, for instance, probably continues its erotic
practices, though it received a severe blow in the libel suit.
And the worst of it is that when this evil is suppressed in one
place it breaks out in another. There is no doubt that in various
parts of India sensual practices are sanctioned and encour
aged in the name of religion. It seems to be inherent in hu
man nature for it to break out somewhere. I am told that in
Europe it takes cover under the name 'Art.' In India its cover
is Religion instead. — It seems as if the writers of some of the
ancient books, seeing that this sort of thing was inevitable in
human nature, had deliberately made some place for it in
religion, as a kind of vent for filth."
It must be remembered, however, that this erotic aspect of
Vaishnavism is confined to a relatively small part of the sect
as a whole, and that in every land and in almost every form of
faith parallel instances are to be found in which sensualism is
mistaken for religion, or at least seeks to disguise itself under
some pious name. The great majority of the more devoted
followers of Krishna find excesses such as these most repug
nant. To them "Sri Krishna" is the embodiment of all that
is purest and noblest; and it is especially in the more spiritual
aspects and relations and emotions of life that they believe they
find the Lord, — though indeed, for them he is also present
everywhere. "All our human relations," writes a contemporary
Vaishnavite philosopher, "are mere reflexes of these relations
as they exist in His own being. Sri Krishna thus spiritualizes
all these social relations, even as He spiritualizes our physical
activities and enjoyments. In his master the devout Vaish-
nava thus sees his Krishna. In his personal friends he realizes
and relishes Krishna as Friend. In his son and father, in his
daughter or mother, he realizes and serves his Krishna. In his
conjugal life and relation he realizes and enjoys the highest,
the deepest love of Krishna. It is thus that in Hindu Vaishna-
59

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
vism we have a more thorough, more concrete, at once a more
real and a more ideal presentation of the Universal than per
haps we have in any other culture. In Vaishnavism the innate
sense of the Spirit and the Universal of the Indo-Aryan Race-
Consciousness seems to have found its loftiest and deepest
expression. If you wish to visualize the soul of India you must
seek and find it in Sri Krishna." 1
To Vaishnavas of this type, the great religious book is not
the Puranas, — and especially not the late and erotic Puranas,
— but the Bhagavad Gita, the "Divine Song" which Krishna
the incarnate God sang to the warrior Arjuna before the great
battle of Kurukshetra. The Gita is the gospel of India, the
gospel of the union of the human soul with the Personal but
All-inclusive God. It is the crown of Indian religious literature,
and it is to the great credit of the cultured Hindus that it is
the most popular book in India. And the Gita is the very heart
of the more philosophical religion of Vishnu and of Krishna. ,
Yet for even a partial understanding of it one must know some
thing of Indian philosophy. Hence further consideration of it
must be postponed to the next chapter.
The two great gods of India, as I have said, are Shiva and
Vishnu. But most of the gods have wives, and one of these
goddesses is of considerable importance. As a rule, to be sure,
an Indian goddess is only a pale and almost impersonal re
flection of her husband. She is regarded usually as a mere per
sonification of his shakti, or power. Some additional function,
to be sure, is occasionally given to a goddess: — thus Sarasvati,
the wife of Brahma, is the goddess of learning, and Lakshmi,
Vishnu's beautiful consort, is the goddess of wealth. But even
so, these heavenly ladies are of no great importance and have
little independent power or significance of their own. Far
otherwise is it, however, with the wife of Shiva. Shiva has but
one wife, but she is a lady of many names and many natures.
As Parvati or Uma she is modestly subject to her husband, as
every Hindu wife should be; but as Kali, Durga, or Devi, she
has a power in heaven and a cult on earth all her own. As an
Indian friend of mine put it, she is a kind of militant suffra
gette. In Bengal — the province in which resides the largest
1 Bipin Chandra Pal, The Soul of India, pp. 315-16.
60

THE MANY GODS
proportion of cultured Hindus — she is the most loved and
feared and worshiped of all the Heavenly ones. And in In
dia as a whole only Vishnu and Shiva excel her in popularity
and importance.
Her cult is commonly known as "Shaktism," for it is not so
much the cult of a personal deity as that of Nature as a whole,
regarded as the female energy, the active force, of which the i
inactive and contemplative Shiva is the counterpart. In one
sense all the goddesses are involved in Shaktism, all the god
desses and female spirits and even women, as embodiments of
das Ewig Weibliche which is the active principle in things, and
of which Kali or Durga is the personification. Thus Kali, or
Shakti as she is also called, has largely taken over the Nature
side of her husband Shiva. He is the Eternal Spirit, the soul
of things, while "She is the Force that stands behind the evo
lution of the Universe, working out the infinite changes through
which the Absolute is progressively realizing Himself in the
cosmic process." l More often still she is for the philosopher the
personification of "Maya," the Great Illusion, which (as we
shall see in our next chapter) Brahman spreads as a veil be
fore our eyes. She is, in short, Nature or the cosmic process
which prevents us from seeing the Absolute and It alone. Thus
she is the Creator and Mother of all finite and separate things,
the gods and even Shiva himself included. In the Mahanirvana
Tantra Shiva says to her: "Thou art the only Para Prakriti
[material Nature] of the Supreme Soul Brahman, and from
Thee as its Mother has sprung the whole universe. O gracious
One ! whatever there is in this world, of things that have been
and are without motion, from intelligence to atom, owes its
origin to and is dependent upon Thee. Thou art the origin of
all manifestations: Thou art the birthplace even of us [Brahma,
Vishnu, Shiva]. Thou knowest the whole world, yet none
know Thee." 2
Shakti is thus the personification of the cosmic Forces, or
even of Power in general. When Mazoomdar returned from a
visit in Europe he told Ramakrishna — the devout worshiper
of Kali — that the philosophers of Europe were not atheists,
1 Bipin Chandra Pal, op. cit., p. 168.
! rv, 10-12. Translation by "Arthur Avalon" (London, Luzac, 1913).
61

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
since they believed in an "Eternal Energy — an unknown
Power behind the Universe" — apparently referring to
Spencer's "Infinite and Eternal Energy from which all things
proceed." Ramakrishna jumped at this at once, recognizing
in the Spencerian formula his own Kali. And a recent writer
in the "Prabuddha Bharata" 1 interprets the teaching of
Nietzsche as being essentially the worship of Shakti.
The way to salvation, then, is through subjection to the
Mother and by uniting one's self with her. " Those who, through
spiritual illumination, love, and devotion, can identify them
selves with the Universal Mother, become like Her, the lords
of birth and death. They rise above the wheel of Karma,
break through the bondage of the phenomenal, and attain final
emancipation." 2
This rather philosophical view of the goddess is, of course,
held by the rank and file of her worshipers only in a very vague
fashion. "For most of them," as an Indian philosopher said
to me, "she is the female power manifest in Nature, who, com
bined with the male power represented by Shiva, makes the
totality of all things. By these people she is always taken as
a person, and often quite anthropomorphically. She is a god
dess who brings earthly blessings to those who propitiate her
— and who can be terrible to her foes." One of the priests at
the great Kali temple at Kalighat, in Calcutta, described the
goddess to me as holding in her two left hands (for she has a
minimum of four hands and a maximum of ten) a knife and a
skull, to destroy or frighten the wicked, while one of her right
hands is open for the reception of offerings from the good, and
the other is raised in blessing. She is the symbol of Eternity
or of All-devouring Time. No other Indian religious concep
tion, he added, had been so misrepresented by Europeans; for
behind her cult and behind the popular ideas of her there was
a very profound and noble philosophy. I asked him what this
philosophy was, and he said he did n't know himself, but if
I would call on Mr. Bipin Chandra Pal I could find out.3 This
1 For January, 1915, p. 5. 2 Hindu Review, August, 1913, p. 104.
• I took the priest's advice, and excellent advice it proved to be. Mr.
Bipin Chandra Pal is not himself a devotee of Shakti, but he is a student of
the subject, and puts it in quite a different light from that which one gets
62

THE MANY GODS
priest was very typical of the less intelligent Indian devotee.
There are millions of men in India who are very zealous for the
good name of their deity and who are sure that there is a very
fine philosophy back of his cult; and though they themselves
have but slight inkling as to what that philosophy may be,
they are extremely proud of it, and can usually tell you what
man to see or what books to read if you wish to study it for
yourself. There are two aspects of Shiva as the power of Nature which
have been almost entirely taken over by his consort: namely,
the mystery of reproduction, and the terror of destruction and
death. The erotic side of Shaktism has been appropriated by
a small branch of the worshipers of Kali, known as the "Left
Hand School." The sensual practices in which they indulge
in connection with their religion may owe their origin to some
primitive aboriginal tribe; but as they exist to-day they have
been profoundly influenced by the philosophy of the school.
Their fundamental idea is not mystic union with the Deity
(as is the case with the erotic school of Vaishnavism), but the
acquisition and control of Power.1
The conception of Kali as the destructive power of Nature,
the Frightful One, is much more widespread and general. The
commonest picture of Kali represents her in a riot of blood and
carnage. Skulls and severed heads hang from her neck, her
tongue, thirsting for more blood, protrudes from her mouth,
and she stands with one foot on the prostrate body of her hus
band. For the story goes that "when Kali was engaged in her
work of destruction, she so completely forgot herself that she
did not stop with the killing and conquest of her enemies, but
from most books. The reader will do well to consult his Soul of India, from
which I have several times quoted.
1 According to Monier Williams some members of the Left Hand School
even go so far as to indulge in promiscuous intercourse as a part of their cult.
Farquhar repeats the charge in his recent Modern Religious Movements in
India (New York, Macmillan, 1915). Neither author gives his authority,
and I do not know how much basis there is for the assertion. Mr. Bipin
Chandra Pal assures me that if this practice ever existed it certainly exists
jio longer, and that it is altogether out of keeping with the Indian charac
ter. An instance quite parallel to it is to be found in an offshoot of the
Orthodox Russian Church, known as the "Christs." For an account of
their practices see N. Tsakni, La Russie Sectaire, chap, iv, and Severac,
La Secte Russe des Hommes-de-Dieu (Paris, Corneley, 1906), pp. 75-81.
63

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
threatened in her passion for war and carnage^o work univer
sal ruin. And it was then that Shiva, the symbol of the Good,
who alone in all the worlds could stand the passion of the dread
goddess, threw himself down at her feet, and thus brought her
back to herself." 1
The popularity of Kali as an object of worship is thus in part
an expression of the fascination of the terrible. Vivekananda
wrote of her : — "Scattering plague and sorrows,
Dancing made with joy,
Come, O Mother, come!
For Terror is Thy name.
"Death is in Thy'breath.
And every shaking step
Destroys a world for e'er.
Who dares misery love
Dance in Destruction's dance
And hug the form of Death —
To him the Mother comes." 2
This gifted Bengalee mystic, with all his knowledge of the
West and of the East, was quite as devoted to Kali as he was
to Shiva. And it seems to have been her terrible aspect that
most attracted him. He insisted upon seeing God everywhere,
in the evil as well as in the good; hence a cult which deified
even the dreadful had for him an especial appeal. "His own
effort," writes Sister Nivedita, " being constantly to banish
fear and weakness from his own consciousness and to learn „
to recognize the Mother as instinctively in evil, terror, sor
row, and annihilation, as in that which makes for sweetness
and joy, it followed that the one thing he could not away
with was any sort of watering down of the great conception..
' Fools, ' he exclaimed once — as he dwelt in quiet talk on the
worship of the Terrible, on becoming one with the Terrible —
'Fools! they put a garland of flowers round Thy neck and call
Thee the Merciful.' . . . One saw that the true attitude of the
mind and will which are not to be baffled by the personal
self, was in fact the determination, in the stern words of the
Swami Vivekananda, ' to seek death not life, to hurl one's self

1 Bipin Chandra Pal, op. cit., p. 173.
2 Quoted by Sister Nivedita in The Master as I Saw Him.
64

THE MANY GODS
upon the sword's point, to become one with the Terrible for
ever more.'" r
Not all of Kali's worshipers desire to become one with the
Terrible. And yet the fascination of her more dreadful aspect
is widespread, and is reflected in the bloody offerings in her
temples. The Hindu feels that the weekly sacrifice of goats to
this goddess of Death is only fitting. When Sister Nivedita
mildly protested against it to Swami Vivekananda, he replied,
"Why not a little blood to complete the picture?"
And yet Kali has her more tender aspect; and, strange as it
must seem to us, this Terrible One is throughout Bengal not only
feared but loved and is spoken of as "The Mother." Rama
krishna, one of the most saintly mystics that India produced in
the last century, worshiped her with a passionate adoration
of which we Westerners apparently can form but a dim con
ception. His relation to her, in vision and in trance, was strik
ingly similar to that of many a Christian mystic to the Ma
donna. It was of her that he talked, it was her teaching, so he
was persuaded, and not his own that he gave his disciples.
"After the regular forms of worship [in the temple of Kali]
he would sit there for hours and hours, singing hymns and
talking and praying to her as a child to his mother, till he
lost all consciousness of the outer world. Sometimes he would
weep for hours and would not be comforted, because he could
not see his Mother as perfectly as he wished." 2 He felt him
self a little child in her great arms, and in every religion not
his own he saw the worship of the Divine Mother in disguise.
This feeling for Kali, as a name for the Motherhood of God, was
caught by many of his disciples. Vivekananda, his favorite
1 The Master as I Saw Him, pp. 209-10. We may wonder at this belief in
the terrible side of God: yet one need not go far to find in the God of many
good Christians a great deal of the Kali nature. The Old Testament, of
course, is full of it, as is also much of Puritanism. " It is a dreadful thing to
fall into the hands of the living God." In Dr. Clough's recent book con
cerning his mission to the Telugus I find a description of a terrific cyclone
which wrecked most of the mission property and wrought tremendous havoc
to the entire district; and after the description the following comment:
" I wondered what all this meant. I wrote to Boston that I thought that our
God means to show what He is able to do — to build up here among the
heathen, and then how easily He can undo all." — Is not this Kali?
2 Max Mfiller, Ramakrishna: His Life and Sayings (London, Longmans,
1910), p. 36.
65

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
pupil, years afterwards said, "How I used to hate Kali! and
all Her ways! That was the ground of my six years' fight —
that I would not accept Her. But I had to accept Her at last.
Ramakrishna Paramahamsa dedicated me to Her, and now I
believe that She guides me in every little thing that I do, and
does with me what She will!" And at another time he said
that wherever he turned he was conscious of the presence of
the Mother as if she were a person in the room.1
Nor is this feeling for Durga or Kali as the Divine and Uni
versal Mother confined to men like Ramakrishna and Vive
kananda. Many and many a Bengalee of limited intelligence
and education looks up to this strange Being, in whom we
outsiders see only the grotesque or the abominable, and they
find in her at least some of the supernatural comfort for which
we all at times have so great a need. Listen, for instance, to
this passage from the farewell letter of a Calcutta girl who
was about to commit suicide to save her father from finan
cial ruin : —
"Last night I dreamt a dream, father, which made me take
my vow. To the enthralling strains of a music unheard before,
and amid a blaze of light as never was on land or sea, I saw
the Divine Mother Durga, with benignant smile, beckoning
me to the abode of the blest up above, and then I thought of
you, father, of the ever sorrow-laden face of my beloved mother
and of the dear little ones who have done so much to brighten
our home. And then I resolved to save you all and made a
sign to the Divine Mother that I would not delay obeying
her merciful call. . . . And now, dear father, farewell. The hour
of sacrifice is come. All nature is slumbering peacefully
and ere long I am going to fall into that sleep which knows no
waking. A strange and sweet sensation overpowers me. Up
above in my new home, at the lotus feet of the Divine Mother
and lying within the light of uncreated rays, as I used to lie
upon your loving breast, I have only to wait a little while till
you and mother come!" 2
1 Sister Nivedita, op. cit., pp. 214 and 162.
2 For a further account of this heroic girl, see p. 176. Her farewell letter
was, of course, written in Hindi, and I do not doubt that the translator has
taken considerable liberties with the original. The references to Durga, how-
66

THE MANY GODS
I have devoted many pages to Shiva, Vishnu, and Kali, be
cause these are the great deities of Hinduism. The "Hindu
Trinity," to be sure, of which we in the West hear a good deal,
— the "Trimurti" as the Indians call it, — consists of Brah
ma, Vishnu, and Shiva, regarded respectively as the Creator,
Preserver, and Destroyer. But one hears but little of the
Trimurti in India to-day except as a matter of ancient tra
dition or theological theory. It is not a living part of the reli
gion of the people. Brahma is an antiquated deity who really
went out of business long ago, and has been retired on a pen
sion of purely verbal honor these many centuries. He has no
cult of his own.1 The only gods that have special cults are the
three we have studied (including under Vishnu his incarna
tions) and two others — Ganesh and Surya. Ganesh is the\
elephant-headed eldest son of Shiva. He is the god of good
luck and also of wisdom, and has rather a wide cult which
to-day is growing with considerable rapidity. According to
Mr. Murdoch, "there is no god more frequently invoked in
India than Ganesh. Being looked upon as the remover of
obstacles, his assistance is considered necessary in every under-',
taking. . . . Many persons never commence a letter without
praying to Ganesh." 2 His image is one of the most familiar
in India, for not only is it in a large proportion of Hindu temples
and even in some temples of the Jainas and Sikhs, but one finds
it in many a private dwelling, on the outside or inside — just
as with us one nails a horseshoe over the door for good luck,
or puts on one's bookshelves a carved owl as a symbol of
learning. Surya is an old Vedic sun god, and though he has hardly
any temples of his own, it is to him that every good Hindu
prays at least once a day when he repeats the Gayatri — the
prayer or invocation which to the Hindu is as sacred as the
Pater Noster is to us.
These, then, are the chief gods of modern India. But they
are far from the only ones. In the times of the Rig Veda it was
ever, are none the less significant of the general and popular feeling in Ben
gal for her.
1 Not absolutely exact. He has two temples, both in Raj pu tana.
2 Siva Bhakti, p. 26.
67

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
said that the gods were thirty-three in number; and since that
time the Brahmins have multiplied their deities by an even
million. And, indeed, if one should start to count up the gods
of village and forest and mountain and stream, the tree spirits
and the water spirits and the spirits of the deified dead, he
would probably not be tempted long to contest the official
figures of 33,000,000. 1 Yet the assertion that Hindus believe
in 33,000,000 gods is likely to be extremely misleading if we
simply leave it without further comment. The Hindu pantheon
is a very different thing from the Greek pantheon. I hope my
description of Shiva, Vishnu, and Kali has shown how very
unstable and shadowy are the natures of the Hindu deities;
but any description, just because it seeks to describe, is bound
to make the Hindu concept seem more clear and sharp than
it really is. Zeus and Hermes and Aphrodite were personalities
with characteristics quite as distinct as Agamemnon and
Achilles. When we turn to India all this is changed. The In
dians have always been noted for a weak sense of personality,
both in reference to themselves and in reference to their gods.
Personality seems to them limitation — something to be out
grown if possible. Hence their gods are always on the verge
of melting into each other. They form one whole, a divine
world, rather than an Olympian assembly of personages.
To counterbalance this loss of personality, the Hindu deities
have a large symbolism, a kind of cosmic quality, which the
Greek and Hebrew and some even of the Christian concepts
of the Divine quite lack. Compare, for instance, Kali with the
Madonna. The pictures of Kali are certainly horrible, — they
are meant to be, — while the Madonna represents the supreme
beauty of womanhood — motherhood and virginity miracu
lously combined. And yet there is something in the red-handed
Kali, gloating over her slaughter, which (in part just because
she is less personal) suggests the universal, symbolic, cosmic,
in a way that the greatest paintings of the Virgin never do.
The Madonna is a person; Kali is a Nature Force.
1 For a large proportion of the Indians these devatas, or "godlings,"are
very much more important than' the great gods, or devas, described in
this chapter. Perhaps the best treatment of these devatas is in Crooke's
Popular Religion and Folklore of India (Allahabad, Government Press,
1894). 68

THE MANY GODS
Largely as a result of this cosmic quality of the Hindu gods
they are notably lacking in moral characteristics. They havev
caught from Nature, or from the impersonal power back of
Nature, a complete indifference to moral questions. They are
bringers of good — yes, but they are also bringers of evil. To
attribute a moral nature to the Divine would be in Indian
eyes a belittling of it. As we shall see later on, there is, in
deed, one sense in which the universe as a whole is supremely
moral — in that good and evil inevitably and automatically
work out their own retribution. But the gods have nothing
to do with this, and so far as they have personalities of their
own they are conceived as capable of doing things which in
men would be morally contemptible, because in the Hindu
conception the gods simply are not subject to the moral cate
gory. They axejenseits von Gut und Bose. And this non-moral
character of the gods results in certain positively immoral ele
ments in their worship. To quote from Farquhar: —
"The great temple-gateways of South India known as
'gopurams' and the temple towers of Central India are in many
cases covered with sculpture of indescribable obscenity : while
here and there the internal walls and ceiling are frescoed with
bestiality — frescoes representing the pleasures of Vishnu's
heaven. The car on which the god rides on great festival days is
also frequently defiled with obscene carvings. To this day
troops of dancing girls who are called 'devadavis,' servants of
the god, and who now and then do take part in the ritual, but
whose real occupation is prostitution, are connected with most
of the great temples of the South and West and do immeasur
able harm. Women scour the country and adopt or buy little
girls to bring them up for this infamous life. . . . The extraordi- '
nary thing is that the obscene sculptures, the foul frescoes, the
dancing-girls, and the offensive symbols are found, not in
private buildings, but in the temples, the high places made
holy by the presence of the gods. The inevitable conclusion is
that neither Vishnu nor Shiva has ever been regarded as hav
ing such a character as would be shocked by such things." J
1 Crown of Hinduism, p. 397. Dr. Jones, for many years connected
with the Theological Seminary at Pasumali, near Madura, assures me
that the practice of keeping professional dancing girls and religious pros-
69

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
The degree to which the gods are conceived as persons will,
of course, vary from worshiper to worshiper; and especially
among the more ignorant one will hear the gods described
as distinct persons without qualification. My acquaintance
in the temple at Delhi told me that Shiva was a real person,
dwelling in heaven in a form much like that of his image in
the temple — though he could take other forms if he chose.
Vishnu, he said, was another person quite distinct from
Shiva, and the two were great friends, and in fact worshiped
each other. Though I gave this man every chance to say it,
there was no suggestion in his conversation that these divini
ties were forms and aspects of each other or of the One God.
Yet if I had asked him if there were many gods or one, he
would probably have answered that either statement would be
true. That, at any rate, is the kind of response one usually
gets in India to such a question. There are many gods — yes;
but there is also but one God. We should probably under
stand the Hindu position better if we did not use the word
"god" at all in reference to the many deities, but called them,
as the Indians do, devas, or "shining ones." The many devas
are as consistent with a fundamental monotheism as are the
many angels of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. And the
educated Hindu will tell you either that the devas, Vishnu and
the rest, are aspects or names for the One God, or that they
are beings higher in the scale than you and I, but subject to
birth and death as we are, and infinitely inferior to the Ab
solute One, Who is All-in-All.
The zealous Shaivites maintain that there is but one God
and that He is Shiva; and that it is quite proper to worship
Vishnu, since Vishnu is but a name for Shiva: while the Vaish
navites maintain the same liberal position, mutatis mutandis,
quoting Vishnu's words in the Gita: "Even those who wor-
titutes at the temples is on the wane, and that for a number of years the
great temple at Madura has had none at all — having to borrow from
neighboring temples for great occasions. The obscene carving on the
temples is certainly bad enough, but it is not peculiar to India. Gothic and
Renaissance sculptors occasionally decorated Christian cathedrals and
monastic buildings in similar fashion, — though much less profusely; as
may be seen by a close examination of the carvings of Notre Dame and
the H6tel de Cluny in Paris. 70

THE MANY GODS
ship other gods, if full of faith, in reality worship Me, though
not according to ordinance." l
Some members of the great sects take even a more liberal
position than this, and do not even insist that their name for
the One God is the right name. Thus a Vishnu worshiper said
to me: "The religion of Vishnu to the more enlightened means
love. Vishnu essentially is love. And yet, after all, Vishnu is
but a name or manifestation of the One God, who is the One
Power of the Universe." It was noticeable that this man al
ways referred to God, not as He, but as It. Later on, he pointed
out to me a man with the Shiva marks on his forehead. "The
difference between that man and me," said my Vaishnavite
acquaintance, " is not that we have different gods. The dif
ference is largely a matter of words — he calls God Shiva and
singles out certain aspects as of special importance; I call It
Vishnu and emphasize certain other aspects. But it is really
the same God that we worship, and this One God possesses
all the aspects."
Another Hindu explained the matter to me in this fashion :
"As ten people observing a rose will see ten different things,
each separating out that aspect of the rose which interests him
most, so of God. You ask how many gods there are? There are
in fact, subjectively considered, as many gods as worshipers.
Each of us has his own God. But it is the One God who has
these many forms. He has, in fact, an infinite number of forms
because He is infinite. Each of us is a form of God. But some of
us represent more of Him than others do — just as the white
light of a lamp shines through a clean and uncolored chimney
better than through a clouded one."
Here we are, indeed, on the very verge of philosophy.1 But
Hinduism is ever on the verge of philosophy, when not in fact
plunged into the very midst of it. The philosophy of Hin
duism is difficult and highly abstruse ; but a surprisingly large
number of uncultured Hindus know at least the two great se
crets with which this philosophy begins and ends: There is One
Absolute Spirit, manifesting Itself in many forms; and some
how or other, you and I and the rest of us finite beings are
very closely related to the Infinite One.
1 ix, 23.

CHAPTER V
THE ONE GOD
ABOUT seven or eight hundred years before Christ there
lived a boy named Sveteketu. When he was twelve
years old (as the Chandogya Upanishad tells us), his father
said to him: —
'"Sveteketu, go to school; for there is none belonging to
our race, darling, who not having studied the Veda is, as it
were, a Brahmin by birth only.'
"Having begun his apprenticeship with a teacher when he
was twelve years of age, Sveteketu returned to his father
when he was twenty-four, having then studied all the Vedas,
conceited, considering himself well-read, and stern.
" His father said to him, ' Sveteketu, as you are so conceited,
considering yourself so well-read, and so stern, my dear, have
you ever asked for that instruction by which we hear what
cannot be heard, by which we perceive what cannot be per
ceived, by which we know what cannot be known?'
"The son said: 'Surely those venerable men, my teachers,
did not know that. For if they had known it, why should they
not have told me? Do you, sir, therefore, tell me that.'
"'Be it so,' said the father. 'If some one were to strike at
the root of this large tree, it would bleed but live. If he were
to strike at its stem, it would bleed but live. If he were to
strike at its top, it would bleed but live. Pervaded by the liv
ing Self, that tree stands firm, drinking in its nourishment and
rejoicing. But if the living Self leaves one of its branches, that
branch withers ; if it leaves a second, that branch withers ; if
it leaves a third, that branch withers. If it leaves the whole
tree, the whole tree withers. In exactly the same manner,
my son, know this.' Thus he spake: 'This body, indeed,
withers and dies when the Self has left it ; the living Self dies
not. That which is the subtile essence, in it all that exists
72

THE ONE GOD
has its self. It is the True. It is the Self. And, oh, Sveteketu,
that art thou.' " 1
The books which Sveteketu had studied in his twelve years
schooling were chiefly the hymns or verses of the Veda, and
some long treatises on the sacrifice known as Brahmanas.
These various books — the oldest writings of the Aryan race
— had taught him that there were many gods of many names,
— gods of sun and sky, of storm and fire, and gods of abstract
powers and indefinite functions. The stories about these gods
and the worship of them had been elaborated and systematized,
and centuries of speculation had added their learned weight
of exegesis and explanation; so that for even a bright boy
like Sveteketu twelve years of hard study were required to
master it all. But about Sveteketu's time a new conception'
had dawned upon some of the thinkers of India; a conception
which was destined to be the heart of Indian philosophy and
the inspiration of Indian religion throughout all subsequent
centuries. This new idea was the conception of a Single Power
back of the many powers, a Divine Essence back of the many
divinities, which should be, not an addition to the already
overflowing pantheon, but the inner Self of all things, by vir
tue of which gods, men, and the material world are what they
are, and in which all things live and move and have their be
ing. And this subtile essence of all things — here was the great
secret — this Universal Self which blooms in every flower and
breathes through every storm, is identical with the self of each
one of us. "Now that light which shines above this heaven,
higher than all, higher than everything, in the highest world,
beyond which there are no other worlds, that is the same
light which is within man." 2
" It fills me with great joy and a high hope for the future of
humanity," writes Tagore, "when I realize that there was a
time in the remote past when our poet-prophets stood under
the lavish sunshine of an Indian sky and greeted the world
with the glad recognition of kindred. It was not seeing man
1 Chand. Up. vi, I and n. — In quoting from the Upanishads I have
made use of Max Muller's version in the Sacred Books of the East (vol. I.
of the American Edition; New York, Christian Lit. Co., 1897), and Pro
fessor Deussen's Sechzig Upanishads des Veda (Leipzig, Brockhaus, 1905).
2 Chand. Up. in, 13, 7. 73

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
reflected everywhere in grotesquely exaggerated images, and
witnessing the human drama acted on a gigantic scale in na
ture's arena of flitting lights and shadows. On the contrary,
it meant crossing the limiting barriers of the individual, to
become more than man, to become one with the All. It was not
a mere play of the imagination, but it was the liberation of
consciousness from all the mystifications and exaggerations
of the self. These ancient seers felt in the serene depth of their
mind that the same energy which vibrates and passes into the
endless forms of the world manifests itself in our inner being
as consciousness; and there is no break in unity. For these
seers there was no gap in their luminous vision of perfec
tion." i
Again and again in the Upanishads is this great thought re
iterated. " This Universe is Brahman. The intelligent whose
body is spirit, whose form is light, whose thoughts are true, from
whom all works, all desires, all sweet odours and tastes pro
ceed ; he who embraces all this, who never speaks and is never
surprised, he is myself within the heart, smaller than a corn
of rice, smaller than a canary seed or the kernel of a canary
seed. He also is myself within the heart, greater than the
earth, greater than the sky, greater than the heaven, greater
than all these worlds. The all-worker, the all-desirer, the all-
embracer, he is myself within the heart, he is that Brahman.
He who has this faith has no doubt. Thus spake Shandilya,
Shandilya." 2
Brahman, then, as the Upanishads name the Supreme Ab
solute, is the true inner being of all things. Yet It is not a
collection, not the sum total of all things, but the inner unity
which appears in all these varying forms. Its unity is of the
most absolute sort, excluding in Its inmost Self all variety,
though manifesting Itself in many ways. "There is one ruler,
the Self, within all things, who makes the one form manifold.
The wise who perceive Him within their self, to them belongs
eternal happiness, not to others. There is one eternal thinker
thinking non-eternal thoughts who, though One, fulfills the
desires of many." 3
1 Sadhana (London, Macmillan, 1913), pp. 20-21.
2 Chand. Up. m, 14. 3 Katha Up. 11, 5, 12-13.
74

THE ONE GOD
Brahman is in one sense the Creator of the World, but not
after the fashion of Jehovah. He — or It, one hardly knows
which pronoun to use — He is both its efficient cause and its
material cause. All things come from Brahman as their source.
They come from Him, we say, yet they do not come away from
Him. For Brahman is eternally immanent in them all just as
the clay from which a thousand pots were made is ever present
in them. Yet this figure must not be pressed too hard; for
Brahman is not to be taken as merely identical with the world.
There is a vast difference between identifying God with the
world and identifying the world with God. The Upanishads
do the latter : they interpret the material world in divine terms.
Pantheism in the stricter sense of the word does the former: it
interprets the Divine in material terms, making God merely the
sum of all things that are — no matter what they are — or per
haps only another name for the totality of laws. Of this sort
of pantheism there is none, or next to none, in the Upanishads.
Brahman is immanent in the world, yes ; He is in one sense iden
tical with the world, yes; but in such a sense that the world
must be ultimately interpreted by means of Him, that is to
say in spiritual rather than in materialistic terms. We know
the world through knowing God, not vice versa. And so far is
Brahman from being lost in the world that the world is very
nearly lost in Him. From the time of the Upanishads on, the
essential worthlessness of the world is one of the fundamentals
of Indian religious thought.
' If in the Upanishads the world is ever on the verge of being
lost in Brahman, the human soul is far from escaping that dan
ger. ]Thedoctrine of the unity of the soul with God, if carried
to its logical conclusion, would seem to leave but little indi
viduality and independence to the finite member of the part
nership. The soul would seem, in the words of a Christian
mystic, to be "drowned in the boundless Sea." l And yet he
who objects to being altogether lost in the Absolute and de
sires enough distinction between himself and the Divine to
permit of his saying, " I am I," will find many a passage in the
Upanishads, particularly in the later ones, for his comfort.
1 Tauler. See Preger's Deutsche Mystik (Leipzig, Doerffling and Franke,
1893), vol. m, p. 219. 75

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
For the Upanishads, like the Bible, are not troubled with con
sistency and logic. Their aim is not to expound a system of
philosophy, but to give poetic expression to religious intu
itions. Yet one must add at once that the Upanishads are full of
genuinely philosophical insight. They were the result of real
philosophical discussion and logical thought; only the conclu
sions to which the various thinkers came were not fully car
ried out and not fully correlated with each other. But these
ancient philosophers saw clearly that such an Absolute as they
had conceived must necessarily be in most ways unknowable.
Knowledge of the Scriptures, knowledge of this world, —
scientific and historical knowledge as we should say, — all this
is a hindrance rather than a help in knowing God. And the
reason for this is plainly seen by the writers of the Upanishads
— namely the fact that since Brahman is conceived as the
Universal Subject, He can, by his very nature, never be an
object of knowledge. This unknowability of Brahman is
exactly on a par with the unknowability of the human self —
in fact, it is the same thing, since the two selves are one. As
the eye cannot see itself, so the self, whether human or divine,
being eternally a subject and a subject only, can never make
itself into an object. It is not a thing — like tables and chairs
and scientific propositions. The self is sui generis and is simply
not in the category of things that are to be investigated, tabu
lated, and described. And doubly impossible must it be to
know the Universal Self who is identical with all that is, so that
in all the universe there is no other, no being that is not He.
This is the profound reason — so the ancient seers of India
would assure us — that we cannot by searching find out God
or know the Almighty unto perfection. "For when there is
as it were duality, then one sees the other, one hears the
other, one perceives the other, one knows the other; but when
the Self only is all this, how should he see another, how should
he hear another, how should he perceive another, how should
he know another? How should he know Him by whom he
knows all this? That self is to be described by No, No! He
is incomprehensible, for He cannot be comprehended; He is
imperishable, for He cannot perish; unfettered, He does not
76

THE ONE GOD
suffer, He does not fail. How, O beloved, should one know the
Knower?"1 "He who dwells in the darkness and within the darkness,
whom the darkness does not know, whose body the darkness
is, and who rules the darkness within, he is thy Self, the ruler
within, the immortal.
"He who dwells in the light and within the light, whom the
light does not know, whose body the light is, and who rules
the light within, he is thy Self, the ruler within, the immortal.
" He who dwells in all beings and within all beings, whom all
beings do not know, whose body all beings are and who rules
all beings within, he is thy Self, the ruler within, the immortal.
Unseen but seeing, unheard but hearing, unperceived but per
ceiving, unknown but knowing. There is no other seer but
He, there is no other hearer but He, there is no other perceiver
but He, there is no other knower but He. This is thy Self, the
ruler within, the immortal.! Everything else is of evil."2
The Upanishads are the ultimate source of nearly all Indian
religious philosophy. They are not widely read to-day, nor
have they been for years; and yet their influence is greater
than that of any other book ever written in India. They struck
the keynote for all subsequent Indian thought, and their in
fluence upon religious and thoughtful souls, including millions
who have never read them, has always been considerable. It
is from the Upanishads that the whole long line of Indian
religious poets, from the writer of the Bhagavad Gita to Rabin-
dranath Tagore, -have drawn the greater part of their inspira
tion. And most of the founders of new religious movements
owe their ideas directly or indirectly to the Upanishads. The
directness with which the Upanishads speak to the Indian
heart is finely illustrated in the "Autobiography" of Deven-
dranath Tagore (the father of the poet). He had long been
seeking inner peace in vain when one day a page of the Isa
Upanishad blew past him. He seized it and with the help of
a pundit made it out. He had never read any of the Upani
shads before, and the effect of this one page was the trans
formation of his whole life and the new-directing of all his
energies. The message from the ancient book came to him as
1 Brihadaranyaka Up. iv, 5, 15. 2 Ibid., in, 7, 13-15. and 23.
77

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
a divine answer specially sent for his salvation. "I had been
eager to receive a sympathetic response from men; now a di
vine voice had descended from heaven to respond in my heart
of hearts, and my longing was satisfied. I got just what I
wanted. I had never heard my most intimate thoughts ex
pressed like this anywhere else. The very mercy of God Him
self descended into my heart, therefore I understood the deep
significance of the words. Oh, what words were those that
struck my ears! ' Enjoy that which He has given unto thee.'
What is it that He has given? He has given Himself. Enjoy
that untold treasure, leave everything else and enjoy that su
preme treasure. Cleave unto Him alone and give up all else.
This tells me what I have long desired. It was not the dictum
of my own poor intellect, it was the word of God Himself.
Glory be to that Rishi in whose heart this truth was first re
vealed. Oh, what a blessed day that was for me, — a day
of heavenly happiness!" 1
The Upanishads, like the Bible, as I have said, are essen
tially religious rather than systematically philosophical. , But
just as the Prophets and Apostles were followed by the theo
logians, so the Rishis were followed by the acharyas and the
pundits. Tlje creation of the Vedanta philosophy was as in
evitable as that of Christian theology. Since the Upanishads
contained the inspired truth, it was necessary to make out
exactly what they meant; hence many centuries of exegesis,
culminating in the Vedanta Sutras and finally in the Commen
taries of Shankara, Ramanuja, and other great scholars. Of the
interpretations which these commentators give us, the most
influential among Indian philosophers is the "Advaita Ve
danta," or absolute monism. This philosophy was given its final
form by Shankara, who, though he lived about 800 A.D., is the
absolute ruler of what may be called the dominant philosophy
in India — or at least of northern India — even to-day. Hence
1 Autobiography (Calcutta, Lahiri, 1909), pp. 15-16. Many an Indian
could say of the Upanishads what Coleridge said of the Bible: it "finds
me." But the appeal of the Upanishads is not confined to India. Every reader
of Emerson will remember the joy that these ancient writings brought to
him; and Schopenhauer's words have often been quoted: "In the whole
world there is no study so refined and so elevating as that of the Upanishads.
It has been the solace of my life. It will be the solace of my death."
78

THE ONE GOD
in studying him we are studying contemporary Indian thought.
I have no intention of giving even an outline of his great sys
tem of philosophy, but there are a few points in it which should
be touched upon.
Shankara's Vedanta makes explicit an implication which
one would naturally gather from the earlier Upanishads,
namely, the impersonal nature of Brahman. In the Upani
shads this is not made explicit, and in fact the later Upani
shads sometimes speak of Him in quite theistic terms. But
for Shankara and his stricter followers of to-day Brahman,
though spiritual, — a conscious subject, — is not personal.
Hence modern Vedantists most often refer to Brahman as It
rather than as Him. Brahman is the spiritual unity back of all
phenomena. To quote from the official "Textbook of Hindu Religion,"
written for the use of the classes in the Central Hindu College:
"This Unity, which never appears but which is, is implied in
the very existence of universes and systems and worlds and
individuals. It is not only recognized in all religion, but also
in all philosophy and in all science as a fundamental necessity.
Endless disputes and controversies have arisen about It, but
none has denied It. Many names have been used to describe
It and It has been left unnamed; but all rest upon It. It has
been called the All and the Nothing, the Fullness and the Void,
Absolute Motion and Absolute Rest, the Real, the Essence.
All are true yet none is fully true. And ever the words of the
Sages remain as best conclusion: 'Not this, not this.' "}
I once asked a Hindu philosopher of my acquaintance the
question whether Brahman were personal or impersonal. His
answer may be of interest to the reader. "Are you," he asked,
"personal or impersonal? Personal surely," he continued;
"yet when you say we, as 'we men' or 'we thinkers,' does the
word we mean merely a collection of separate selves? Or is
there something in common between those selves that unites
them? This uniting, this common element, is not personal.
And this impersonal element, no less than the personal ele
ment, must, of course, be in each of us. So it is with Brahman.
1 Sanatana Dharma: An Advanced Textbook of Hindu Religion and
Ethics (2d ed., Benares, Central Hindu College, 1904), p. 40.
79

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
Brahman is both personal and impersonal. Aristotle has shown
that every material thing is both concrete and abstract; and
in the same way Brahman is both concrete and abstract, both
personal and impersonal. This point of view must govern our
answer to every question about Him. Monism, pluralism, the
ism, deism, pantheism, each has its truth, yet none is the
whole truth. Is the sun's ray red, orange, yellow, green, blue,
or violet? It is not any, because it is all."
Yet it must not be forgotten that this "One without a sec
ond" is regarded by the Vedanta as essentially spiritual. This
in fact follows for the Vedantist from the very conception of
Brahman as genuinely real. For the follower of Shankara is
in the last analysis an idealist, and all reality is for him ulti
mately to be expressed in terms of consciousness. "The Scrip
ture teaches," writes Shankara, "that the Brahman without
attributes is pure spirituality and free from everything which
is distinct from it; for it says: 'As a lump of salt has no inside
and no outside, but consists of salt taste through and through,
so has This Self no distinguishable inner or outer, but consists
through and through of knowledge.' This means," continues
Shankara, "that this Self is through and through nothing but
spirit : the spiritual is its entire nature, as the salt taste is that
of the lump of salt." *
An Absolute thatinchjdes withinjtself afl thatJs_mustobvi-
ously be nertfiSrgood nor bad in the moral sense, but simply
jenseits von Gut und Bose. The moraJ.„categoiy does ^not_ap-
ply to It. This Shankara and his followers explicitly recognize
and even insist upon. Emerson represented the orthodox In
dian view very justly when he put into the mouth of " Brahm "
the words — " Far and forgot to me are near,
Shadow and sunlight are the same."
And Brahmaujs_notpnly^njon:mpral. He js_alsQ^together
actionless. This characteristic isior^the orthodox Vedantist
one of His chieTdlstinctions. Unlike the many gods, Brahman
seeks nothing, wishes nothing, needs nothing, does nothing, —
nothing, that is, except to be, and His being involves "all
1 Quoted by Deussen in Das System des Vedanta (Leipzig, Brockhaus,
1906), p. 229.
80

THE ONE GOD
this." (Hence, being actionless, Brahman is for the Vedantist
not an object of worship, but only a necessary philosophic
conception — with, it must be added, a certain emotional
glowTUn sMctJo^c^jtherefore, it may be said that the consis
tent Vedantist should not_ pray. So far, at any rate, as his
religion is connected with Brahman he will make no petitions;
for that aspect of him which is one with Brahman is out of
time and quite careless of change and chance. He should, how
ever, and usually does, repeat the gayatri 1 every day, but re
gards it not as a prayer, but as a form of meditation on the
ultimate truth of philosophy.
As a matter of fact, most Vedantists do pray and worship ;
but their worship is directed either toward the limited and
personal "Brahma with qualities," whom Shankara and his
predecessors recognized as a manifestation of the unlimited
Brahman; or toward one of the many devas — especially Shiva
or Vishnu — whom all Vedantists accept quite seriously as
partial expressions of the Divine and as having the same sort
of quasi-reality that you and I have. "Shiva and Vishnu are
real personal beings," said a Hindu philosopher to me, "and
just as they are infinitely inferior to Brahman, so they may
be said to be on a plane infinitely superior to ours. They are
personal in the same way that we are personal, and impersonal
in the same way we are impersonal — though probably some
what less personal than we, somewhat less separate, more
impersonal, more universal, more inclusive." In the last
analysis, of course, they, like ourselves, are really one with
Brahman; and ailjseparatgness in them as in us is an illusion.
All separateness is illusion^ and this illusion is the^xpjana-j
tion of this rnlSenaTworld, which, though seemingly many, isl
Tn~realfiy identical with the "One without a second." The|
~~Upanishads had asserted this identity, but nad not tried to
solve the problem resulting. Shankara seriously tried, and his
reasoning seems to have been in general something like this:
If Brahman alone is real, and if Brahman is an absolute Unity,
a pure perceiving subject, then the world as we see it must be
unreal. Itjnustlb^jn^erely_ajyisionJ _sp_to tsay, which Brahman
creates, a shadow which Brahman casts. It is due to Brah-
» See p. 137-
81

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
man's Maya, His "creative faculty"; it is, in fact, a kind of
"wraith" l of Brahman. The world, then, is Maya, a word
which, though it originally referred to Brahman's creative
power, has come in Shankara 's philosophy to mean Illusion,
or, in more modern terms, Appearance. The phenomenal
world is unreal in much the same sense that the World of
Appearance in Bradley's famous book is unreal. In fact the
Advaita Vedanta resembles Bradley's system, and even
Royce's, and the whole neo-Hegelian Weltanschauung in many
important respects, being frankly an idealistic monism. But its
closest spiritual relative in the West is the philosophy of Fichte.
Thus my Vedantist friend in Benares said to me: "Matter exists
only as the expression or idea of spirit.\ The Vedanta is Berke-
leyan in principle, except that it makes matter, not the experi
ence of many individual spirits, but of the Universal Spirit.
Thus we may say that Spirit creates or evolves or imagines
matter. As an independent entity matter simply does not
exist. The universal Ego posits the not-I, but does so only in
turn to deny it." This, it must be confessed, is a rather West
ern and Fichtean mode of expressing the Vedantist view of
matter. Shankara and the conservative pundits use some
what different language, — which, however, comes to the
same thing. fThe world, say they, is due to Avidya, to ignorance
— to our ignorance, but also and primarily to a kind of
universal and cosmic ignorancer\There are, teach Shankara
and his followers, three kinds of^reality: "absolute," "con
ventional" or "practical," and "imaginary." The first of
these is Brahman alone; the second is this material world,
Time and Space, and our separate selves; the third consists
of such things as we all recognize as illusions, as when one
takes a rope for a snake or a piece of tin for a coin. Now,
teaches Shankara, the second kind of reality so-called is really
quite as illusory and imaginary as the third ; both are due to
the same general kind of causes and both may be corrected in
the same way. Why is it that we take the rope for the snake
and the tin for the coin? It is because of our fears and
desires, because of the interests of our separate selves. We
1 Cf. Barnett's Introduction to his translation of the Bhagavad Gita,
P-39- 82

THE ONE GOD
allow these things to captivate our attention and obstruct our
vision. And our acceptance of "conventional" reality, of this
world of the many, as genuinely real is due to the same causes.
And as the rope ceases to look like a snake when we know it
is a rope and put away our thought of self-interest and its
consequent fear; so would this world of manifold separate
things vanish away if we could fully vanquish our ignorance
and our desires, and nothing be left but the Unlimited Brahman
without qualities, the Universal Subject with no object, Pure
Consciousness. But whence the ignorance that hides from our eyes this
vision? Whence this delusion of a separate self with separate
interests in a world of things and actions, if in truth there be
no separate selves, no action, no things, and no world? Your
Vedantist will sometimes answer, "It is due to Maya." But
what, then, is the source of Maya? Some will respond, " It is
Brahman's will." But Brahman, then, has a will? "No, that
would give It qualities and make It act." Is Maya, then, a
second reality in addition to Brahman? "No! No! There is
only One without a second." What, then, is Maya? "It is,"
said one monk to me, "a part of Brahman." Brahman, then,
has parts? "No! No! This Maya is not real. It must be con
ceived as coming from our ignorance." But why are we — we
who are really identical with Brahman — so ignorant? "Alas,
we are too ignorant to answer that question. Our ignorance
is due to Maya." And this is where we started! 1
The monistic Vedanta of Shankara is, as I have said, the
dominant philosophy of India, or at least of northern India,
to-day. As such it has great importance. Yet its importance
is easily exaggerated and has often been overestimated. It is
the philosophy of certain philosophers and pundits; but there
are many thinkers who accept other forms of religious phi-
1 I appealed to my friend the philosopher for further light on this point.
He said: "The consciousness of the One Spirit consists in recognizing the
illusion of the phenomenal world which it posits. With it positing and
negating are one simultaneous and timeless act. The One and the Many,
the Unchanging and the Changeful, are thus reconciled. It is expressed
by the logion 'I-this-not' — in other words the not-I is posited only to be
at the same time opposed and negated." But why does the One thus posit
and deny at all? To this my friend had no answer.
83

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
losophy, and many intelligent and deeply religious men who
reach back past all systems to the religious intuitions of the
Upanishads themselves, fit is not the technicalities of Shan-
kara's philosophy, nor its insistence that the world is unreal
which has given it its great influence in India, but rather its
defense of the religious doctrine that God is immanent in all
things and dwells in our hearts. J "Some modern philosophers
of Europe," writes Tagore, "maintain that the Brahman of
India is a mere abstraction, a negation of all that is in the
world, — in a word, that the Infinite Being is to be found no
where except in metaphysics. It may be that such a doctrine
has been and still is prevalent with a section of our country
men. But this is certainly not in accord with the prevailing
spirit of the Indian mind. Instead, it is the practice of realiz
ing and affirming the presence of the Infinite in all things which
has been its constant inspiration." J
The Vedanta philosophy, as distinct from the commentaries
upon it, whether written by Shankara or any one else, is al
ways said to be based on three great books or sets of books —
namely, (i) the Upanishads, (2) the Vedanta Sutras, (3) the
Bhagavad Gita. As the third of these is by no means in agree
ment with the two others, commentators upon the Vedanta
have always had to make a choice between these books, take
their fundamental point of view from one of them, and then
"interpret" the rest of the canon in the light of their chosen
scripture. Shankara was guided chiefly by the Upanishads
and the Sutras. Ramanuja, the other great commentator,
who lived about two hundred years later, chose the Gita as
his guide and interpreted the other books in the light of it.
The Bhagavad Gita grew out of the cult of Vasudeva-Krishna-
Vishnu. The sect who worshiped in a special sense this deity,
together with the Shaivites or worshipers of Shiva, had during
the centuries just preceding our era developed a new sort of
religious experience, known as bjigkti or devotion. Perhaps I
should not call this new, for even in the Rig Veda there are
hymns 2 which speak at least the beginnings of a personal re
lationship between worshiper and God; and yet as the really
vital and absorbing thing in religion this relation of love and
1 Sadhana, p. 16. 2 For example, 1, 25.
84

THE ONE GOD
devotion to a personal God was, in the early days of the great
Sects, a new experience. Meanwhile, however, the Vedanta
philosophy, with its One Infinite Brahman, was spreading
among the intelligent classes. And by the beginning of our
era the problem for many an earnest worshiper of Vishnu and
of Shiva seems to have been cruel and pressing: How accept
the teachings of philosophy and yet maintain the belief in my
beloved Lord, whose bhakti forms all the real religion that I
have? s
The solution to this problem was found about the beginning
of our era for both sects, by means of the identification of the
god of each sect with the Infinite Brahman. For the Vaishna-
vas this view that the personal god of the sect is in reality the
Absolute Deity finds its best expression in the Bhagavad Gita,
the most widely read and universally loved book in all San
skrit literature. It is, as Howells says, "a living book, de
voutly read and studied by tens of thousands of Hindus
throughout the length and breadth of India. All men of light
and leading in India are thoroughly familiar with its contents,
and no man of culture, whether that culture be native or for
eign, and whether he lives in village, town, or city, neglects
the study of it." 2
The Gita presents us with a view of God different from any
we have studied.3 For we find here neither polytheism nor
idealistic monism, but unquestionable theism. There is really
one God only ; but this one God is not an impersonal essence,
nor a universal perceiving subject. He is a personal Being
whom His worshipers may love, and who in turn loves them.
But this personal God is by no means a transcendent Deity,
1 This dilemma is well presented by Farquhar, Crown of Hinduism, p. 366.
8 Op cit., p. 427.
' According to Professor Garbe, the Gita falls into two distinct parts,
an older theistic Gita, written in the first half of the second century B.C.
and expressing the views of the religion of Vasudeva- Krishna- Vishnu;
and, secondly, various additional verses of the pantheistic sort, inserted
after Vishnu had come to be identified with Brahman. Professor Bhan
darkar rejects this division, pointing out that the Indian view is always
that of an immanent God even when this God is conceived as personal.
The question whether the Gita was written originally in its present form
or is a composite as Professor Garbe believes, does not, however, concern
us here; for it is the Gita as it stands to-day that we are considering.
85

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
standing apart from nature like the God of the English deists or
the Jehovah of the Old Testament. He is, on the contrary, as
immanent in the entire universe as the Brahman of the Ve
danta Himself. The material world is recognized as perfectly
real, but it is only the form or the body of the Supreme Spirit,
who moves it and dwells within it as the World Soul or as the
Logos of Greek philosophy. And the souls of men are, also
parts of the Supreme Spirit, although retaining througli_eter-
nity their partial individuality. Thus we may say that God
hai" three aspects : as the supreme, unmanifested One, and as
the two manifestations of matter and of spirit. Or we may
describe the Divine Nature as dual rather than triune, namely
as unmanifested and as manifested. "A nature have I of eight
orders," says Sri Krishna in the Gita, "Water, Fire, Wind,
Ether, Mind, Understanding, and Thought of an I, — this is
the lower. But know that I have another and higher Nature
than this, one of Elemental Soul, and thereby is upheld this
universe. Learn that from these twain are sprung all born
beings; the source of the whole universe and its dissolution
am I. There is naught higher than I; all this universe is
strung upon Me as gems upon a thread. I am taste in water;
I am light in moon and sun. The pure scent of earth am I and
the light in fire. The life of all born beings am I."1
In the Vishnu Purana it is written: "As gold is still one sub
stance howsoever diversified as bracelets, tiaras, or ear-rings,
so Hari [Vishnu] is one and the same, although modified in the
form of gods, animals, and men. As the drops of water, raised
by the wind from the earth, sink into the earth again when the
wind subsides, so the various gods, men, and animals which
have been detached by the agitation of the qualities, are
reunited when that disturbance ceases with the Eternal."2
For the devout Shaivite Shiva takes the same position of
supreme yet all-inclusive personal God that Vishnu has for the
Vaishnavite. He is commonly represented as dancing; and this
is a symbol of a philosophical conception. For the entire cosmic
process is his deed, and all his acts are but eternal sport. Says
a Tamil verse: "Our Lord is a dancer who, like the heat latent
in firewood, diffuses his power in mind and matter, and makes
1 vii, 4-8. 2 in, 7.
86

KRISHNA PLAYING HIS PIPE

THE ONE GOD
them dance in their turn." For his philosophical followers
Shiva is sometimes the manifestation of Brahman; sometimes
He has taken the place of Brahman. Though a personal and
theistic God He is immanent in the world, and though different
from us He is the eternal Lover of our souls. A Tamil poet of the
Eleventh Century sings to Him : —
"O Splendour dawning within my soul as I sink in swooning desire,
Whose lotus-feet ruddily deck the crowns of the chief of the heavenly
choir,
Who art all-spread Ether, Earth, Water, Air, Fire, — who art these yet
other than they —
Whose shape in their shape is hidden — O joy to have seen Thy vision
to-day!
"The darkness to-day Thou dravest away, didst dawn in my heart as the
sun.
In thought beyond thought my spirit hath sought Thy being: save Thee
there is none.
Thou art One, art the Energy stirred for aye, self-subliming to endless
degree;
Thou art other than ought: save Thee there is naught — O who may have
knowledge of Thee?
"Thou gavest Thyself and me didst take; wert Thou the more cunning
or I?
I got of Thee bliss everlasting, O Thou whose home is in Perun-durai;
From me what hast Thou won my Sovereign? for Thou hast made of my
spirit Thy fane,
And hast set Thine abode in my body to-day — all mine the unrecom-
pensed gain!" *
There have been disputes and rivalries between the differ
ent philosophical sects of India; but as compared with the
wranglings between Christian churches these Indian disputes
are as nothing at all.fFor not only the learned, but many also
of the ignorant, in India, know that the different names for
Deity are but name^ after all, and they are content that the
One God should have an infinity of titles. Says the Vishnu
Purana, "He who offers sacrifices, sacrifices to Vishnu: he
who murmurs prayers, prays to Him; he who injures living
creatures, injures Him; for Hari is all beings." 2 .In this belief
in a common God and a common worshiping matter_what
vites, Shaktas, and Vedantists^ Ramakrishna spoke for the
rFronVBarnett's fheHeart of India, p. 84. * in, 8.
87

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
spiritually minded Hindu of all sects and all ages when he said
to his disciples: "People dispute among themselves, saying:
'God is personal, with form. He cannot be impersonal and
formless,' — like the Vaishnavas who find fault with those
who worship the Impersonal Brahman. When realization
comes, then all these questions are settled. He who has seen
God can tell exactly what He is like. As Kabir said: 'God with
form is my Mother, God without form is my Father. Whom
shall I blame, whom shall I praise? The balance is even.' He
is with form, yet He is formless. He is personal, yet He is im
personal ; and who can say what other aspects He may have ! " '
The many aspects of the Supreme have never made India
lose what to it is the fundamental truth of religion and phil
osophy, that though God is exalted and dwelleth on high, He
is not far from any one of us. This is the great message of
India's seers, poets, and prophets through the ages. It is a
striking fact, this unanimity of the representatives of an entire
people, during twenty-five hundred years, in expressing the
Testimonium Animce. I have already ^hown by quotations
of some length from the Upanishads and the Gita the earlier
voicings of this experience. The message is not one of hoary
antiquity alone, but has been handed on from seer to seer to
our own day. Ramanuja and Ramanand carried the light of
the Gita through many centuries, Kabir, the Weaver of Ben
ares and the disciple of Ramanand, voiced it in many forms: —
" Turning away from the world I have forgotten both caste and lineage;
My weaving is now in the infinite Silence.
My heart being pure, I have seen the Lord:
Kabir having searched and searched himself hath found God within
him."
"God cannot be obtained even by offering one's weight in gold;
But I have purchased Him with my soul.
Brahma, however much he talketh, hath not found God's limit;
But by my devotion God came to me as I sate at home." 2
"O man," writes Nanak, a younger contemporary of Kabir
who had learned from him,
1 The Gospel of Ramakrishna (New York, Vedanta Society, 1907), p. 28.
2 From Macauliffe, The Sikh Religion (Oxford, Froude, 1909), vol. n,
pp. 260 and 152. 88

THE ONE GOD
"0 man, entertain such love for God as the lotus hath for the water.
Such love doth it bear it that it bloometh even when dashed down by
the waves." 1
The intensity of the bhakta's longing for God is nowhere
better shown than in the poems — one might say the prayers
— of another spiritual successor of Ramanand, the sixteenth-
century poet Tulsi Das. "Lord, look thou upon me!" he ex
claims, "naught can I do of myself. Whither can I go? To
whom but Thee can I tell my sorrows? Oft have I turned my
face from Thee and grasped the things of this world ; but Thou
art the fountain of mercy; turn not Thou thy face from me.
. . . Lord, Thy ways ever give joy unto my heart. Tulsi is
thine alone; and O God of mercy, do unto him as seemeth good
unto Thee." 2
Kabir was as much Mohammedan as Hindu, Nanak was the
founder of the Sikhs, Tulsi Das, like Ramanuja and Rama
nand, was a Vaishnavite; and in the Shaivite school we find the
same feeling of mystery and deep joy at the visit of God to the
soul. "The Light that was in the beginning and hath no begin
ning," writes Tayumanavar, the Tamil devotee of Shiva, in
the early eighteenth century ; " the Light which shineth in me as
Bliss and Thought, appeared as the Silent One. He spake to
me, sister, words not to be spoken.
"The words that were spoken, how shall I tell? Cunningly
he seated me all alone, with nothing before me. He made me
happy, beloved, he grasped me and clung to me.
"He bade me put all other clingings aside and cling to Him
within. What I got as I clung to him, how shall I tell? He
spake of things never spoken, beloved.
'"Think not of Me as other than thou.' When He uttered
this one word, how can I tell the bliss that grew from that
Word? "The field where grew the bliss of Shiva, that pure space I
drew near. Weeding out the weeds of darkness, I then looked.
Save the Lord's splendor, I Saw naught, sister.
"The blessed Light of Bliss that struck me by His grace
made me, who am less than an atom, into perfect fullness
1 The Sikh Religion, vol. I, p. 270.
2 Grierson in the Imperial Gazetteer of India, vol. 11, p. 420.
89

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
without motion hither or thither. Lo, the strangeness of it,
sister!" l
Barriers of faith do not bar this insight. The hymn-writer
of the theistic Brahmo Samaj,2 which in the middle of the nine
teenth century still carried onward the Upanishad tradition,
could sing: —
"O Thou incomparable Light of lights; the sun, moon,
planets and stars are devoid of luster before Thee.
"As a single sun, with myriads of rays, lights up the whole
world, so Thy love, scattered in a thousand ways, wells up in
the pure love of woman, and lives in the maternal heart.
"The high peak that pierces the clouds, or the deep blue
sea, whithersoever we go, Thou art there. The bright efful
gence of the sun is a ray from Thee, and Thy shining is in the
moon, and Thy mild loveliness in the clouds; whether in
crowded cities or in the lonely forest, wherever we roam,
Thou art there."
And in our own day the poet who perhaps better than any
other voices the spirit of India, puts afresh the same ever re
curring testimony: —
"The day was when I did not keep myself in readiness for
thee ; and entering my heart unbidden even as one of the com
mon crowd, unknown to me, my King, thou didst press the
signet of eternity upon many a fleeting moment of my life.
"And today, when by chance I light upon them and see thy
signature, I find that they have lain scattered in the dust
mixed with the memory of joys and sorrows of my trivial days
forgotten. "Thou didst not turn from my childish play among dust,
and the steps that I heard in my playroom are the same that
are echoing from star to star." 3
1 Quoted by Barnett in The Heart of India, pp. 85 and 87.
2 Satyendranath Tagore, an older brother of the well-known poet.
The hymn here quoted is taken from Shivanath Shastri's History of the
Brahma Samaj (Calcutta, Chatterji, 1911), vol. I, p. 120.
3 Rabindranath Tagore, Gitanjali (Macmillan, 19 13), p. 3S-

CHAPTER VI
DUTY AND DESTINY
THE central point of Hindu thought is the soul. It is from
the soul or self that all the reasoning of the Hindu starts
and to it that all his arguments finally return. The Hindus are
sure of the soul. There is nothing else that they are so sure of.
As to the material world, they are not very certain of it. Cer
tainty begins with the "knowing self." This is the doctrine
which the West believes officially. It is good for professors of
philosophy to teach, good for their students to remember on
examination, good for the clergy to preach on Sundays, good
for the rest of us to assent to and refer to occasionally — very
occasionally — in conversation. But in India people really
believe it. They believe it every day in the week. They act
upon it and plan out their lives in reference to it. It is to them
a practical as well as a theoretical reality.
The soul means to the Indian " the knowing self." The strict
follower of the monistic Vedanta (and of the Samkhya philoso
phy as well) strips this inner kernel of our being of every quality
till it becomes a pure perceiving subject like "the Brahman
without qualities" — with whom, in fact, it is identical. The
follower of Ramanuja leaves it more individuality, though
making it ultimately one (in some sense or other) with the per
sonal God. And the non-philosophic Hindu is not troubled
with the refinements of the question, but still does a deal of
thinking concerning the soul and its eternal destiny.
The knowing self, then, is the innermost kernel of a man;
but the self as we know it empirically in ourselves and others
contains also many relatively temporary characteristics, which,
though not eternal like the inmost self, may travel with it
through many births and characterize it through many lives.
This view the Hindus express in the doctrine of the many
"sheaths" or "bodies" surrounding the soul. There is, of
course, the outer sheath, the physical body which we all see,
91

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
and which the soul quits at death. But besides this there are
several other sheaths, of increasing inwardness, some of which
we lose in the next world, while some still abide through long
series of lives. But the inner kernel, the real self of a man, is
never stripped off, is never put away. It is one of the eternal
elements of the universe, a spark of the One Eternal Element;
for, as we have seen, for both Vedantist and bhakta, it is in
some sense or other a part of the Divine, or even identical with
God Himself.
This unity of the soul with God is at the foundation not only
. of Hindu metaphysics, but of Hindu ethics as well. The great
aim of life is theSfjUl realization of that God-consciousness, the
significance of which forms the central point of Hindu thought.
Before this can be fully attained, the soul must be liberated
from the mass of particular interests and petty wishes and self-
born illusions which weigh it down and hide from it the beati
fic vision. Hence liberation and realization may be called the
twin ideals of Hinduism, and it is these that determine all its
ethical theory.
The first step toward the realization of this ideal is, of course,
to be found in ordinary negative morality. Hence we find in
the sacred books of the Hindus, and in their social customs and
popular ideals, certain conventional views of virtue and vice
which have been common among most civilized peoples from
the Egyptians down. These are "sanctioned," in India as
elsewhere, by the usual paraphernalia of delightful heavens
and terrible hells. The Garuda Purana (a kind of Hindu
Dante) has a list of sinners who may expect punishment in the
: next world, which shows that the Hindu conscience is far from
i insensible; for it includes (among many others) "slayers of
Brahmins, drinkers of intoxicants, slayers of cows, infanticides,
murderers of women, destroyers of the embryo, and those who
commit secret sins; those who steal the wealth of the teacher,
the property of the temple or of the twice-born, or the posses
sions of women or children; those who do not pay their debts,
who misappropriate deposits or betray confidence, or who kill
,¦ with poisonous food; those who seize upon faults and depre
ciate merits, who are jealous of the good; those who despise
places of pilgrimage and disparage the scriptures; those who
92

DUTY AND DESTINY
are elated at seeing the miserable and who try to make the
happy wretched," l etc. It is only fair to add that one of the
sins for which Hinduism has no tolerance is that of intoxica
tion; and the teachings of the Hindu religion on this subject.
have very solid and splendid results. Du Bois, whose book
may almost be described as one long tirade against Hindu
immorality and superstition, cannot help writing as follows:
"As a rule a respectable Hindu will not touch spirits or intoxi
cating drink, considering that they cause one of the greatest
internal defilements that it is possible to contract. In con
sequence of this praiseworthy opinion drunkenness is looked
upon as a degrading and infamous vice, and any one would be
promptly and ignominiously expelled from his caste were he
found guilty of giving way to it. It is only Pariahs and men
of the lowest classes who dare publicly to consume intoxicating
drinks. One does occasionally see in European settlements and
in the large towns high-caste natives, and even Brahmins,
breaking the law of temperance; but it is only in strict privacy
and after every precaution has been taken to conceal the un
pardonable weakness." 2
As one might expect, the popular casuistry of Hinduism
includes a certain amount of externalism, such as one finds in the
moral codes of most ethnic religions. The following confession
of the wicked soul, taken from the Garuda Purana, may re
mind the reader somewhat of the Egyptian's "Negative Con
fession" before Osiris,3 and will show the external nature of
much popular Indian morality. " I made no offerings to fire,
performed no penances, did not worship the deities, did not
honor the assemblies of Brahmins, did not visit the holy river,
never performed benevolent acts. Alas, I did not excavate any
tanks in waterless places, did not even a little for the support
of cows and Brahmins." 4
The externalism which is taught in much popular and
"Puranic" morality is one of the weakest points of Hinduism,
and with the less intelligent portion of the population can hardly
1 iv, 5-12.
2 Hindu Manners, Customs, and Ceremonies (3d ed., Oxford, Clarendon
Press, 1906), pp. 187-88.
' See The Book of the Dead, chap. 125. * 11, 35~37.
93

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
fail to have a decidedly evil influence. What, for instance,
shall we expect of a religion when in some of its most popular
scriptures we can read such assertions as these: —
"There is no doubt that by the installation of a Shiva lingam
a man acquires ten million times the merit which is acquired
by making happy the poor and such as are enfeebled by dis
ease." 1
"The betrayer of friends, the ungrateful, he who lies with
his teacher's wife, the slayer of a Brahmin, all these are ab
solved by the dedication of a bull." 2
It is probably in the popular Hindu views about sacred
streams and sacred places that this externalism most often
meets us and seems most strikingly absurd and immoral.
Bathing in the Ganges at certain appointed times 3 is, as we
have seen, regarded by many Hindus as a great aid in ridding
one of sin and in acquiring merit; and this belief of the ignorant
Hindu is taught him directly by his priest, who makes a very
good living out of it. There is also a very general belief —
taught in the Puranas and accepted by many intelligent and
educated Hindus — that to die in Benares and have one's
ashes thrown into the Ganges is of considerable assistance in
getting to heaven. That this is really believed by many culti
vated Hindus, including rich people and Maharajas, is shown
by the fact that so many of them come to Benares to die.
" When the wind which has touched the waves of the Ganges
touches the dead," says the Garuda Purana, "his sin is at once
destroyed. There was a certain hunter, a destroyer of all sorts
of creatures [and therefore, in the Hindu conception, a very
wicked man] who went to the place called hell. When his bones
were [accidentally] dropped into the Ganges by a crow, he as
cended the divine chariot and went to the abode of the Shining
Ones." 4
1 Mahanirvana Tantra, xiv, 6-7. 2 Garuda Purana, xn, 52.
8 It is not the daily bath in the Ganges that washes away sin; nor is it be
lieved that one can commit a sin to-day and wash it away to-morrow. It is
only the ritualistic bath at certain times and seasons and with certain
prayers, etc., that frees one of sin. The daily bath is merely a religious duty:
one bathes because brought up to bathe and because cleanliness is a very
large part of godliness; not in order to get rid of sin.
' x, 83, 85, 86. Is this belief in the efficacy of a dip in Ganges water dif
ferent in principle from the Christian belief in the efficacy of infant baptism?
94

DUTY AND DESTINY
One would expect that the belief in the efficacy of bathing in
certain places would result in an increase of vice and crime;
and that therefore Benares in particular would be a very wicked
city. I could not, however, discover that this was the case.
Though I made inquiries on the subject I found no one who
maintained that Benares was wickeder than other cities. In
spite of which, there can be no doubt that externalism of the
sort we have been considering must inevitably have some ef
fect in weakening the moral struggle and cheapening the moral
life. Of course the more intelligent and spiritual Hindus deplore
the externalism of their ignorant fellows as deeply as any one,
and regard it as no more a part of true Hinduism than the
veneration of ikons is, in the opinion of a Protestant, a part of
true Christianity. And yet many acts and abstinences, which
to the European seem purely external matters, are accepted
even by the intelligent Hindu as a constituent part of the moral
life. These are all traditional, of course; but the Hindu thinker
regards them as thoroughly rational none the less and as be
longing very properly to the field of morality. And our differ
ence of opinion on these particular points is due to a more
fundamental difference of opinion on the larger question of the
point of view from which the moral life should be regarded. In
a general way it may be said that the Christian considers the
moral life a matter of voluntary activity, while the Hindu re
gards it as a matter of habitual conduct. The one emphasizes
choice; the other, training. vOf course, it would be quite mis
taken to affirm that the Christian never thinks of training and
habitual conduct, or the Hindu of choice and voluntary activ
ity; but it is true that the Christian and the Hindu emphases
lie in different places. What interests the Hindu chiefly is the
acquisition of self-control; and this in his opinion is best to be
attained by means of an unremitting psycho-physical training
beginning with the cradle and ending with the deathbed. This
training descends into the minutest details of life, as well as
determining life's plan as a whole, and hence includes many
Is it not baptism in both cases, the one before death and before the attain
ment of reason, the other after? In both cases it seems to be the holy water
that does the business.
95

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
things which to us seem purely "external." Of course they are
external ; but in the Hindu's opinion the external may often in
fluence the internal. "The injunctions and prohibitions of
Hinduism in regard to the utmost outer concerns of man's
life," writes one Hindu philosopher, "have a very salutary ef
fect upon his character by helping to strengthen the inhibi-
tive powers of the will, as well as by training the individual
to perpetually give preference in his daily work and recreations
to the good over the pleasant. . . . You will thus see that in
the socio-religious life of the Hindu there is a much narrower
range for the indulgence of the senses and the appetites than
there is, perhaps, in any other system. The Hindu has to sub
mit to much greater restraints even in what are regarded as
quite legitimate enjoyments everywhere, than the votaries of
the other great world-religions. ... It is by these means that
the general socio-religious scheme of the Hindus helps materi
ally to advance the real ethical life of the people. It is to these
that we owe all the real humility of our national character.
Our proverbial patience and mildness; our admitted respect
for all life, both human and non-human; our special spiritual
aptitudes, and our general freedom from some of the most ob
trusive vices of civilized humanity; all these are largely due to
these socio-religious institutions and physico-ethical disciplines
associated with them which are so often dismissed by the mod
ern man both in Europe and even in India, as mere super
stitions." 1
The aim of this psycho-physical training is the achievement
of perfect self-control, the mastery of the spirit over the flesh,
and the destruction of particular and selfish interests and de
sires. For it must never be forgotten that the goal toward
which Hindu ethics points, and in the light of which every
thing else must be valued, is liberation and realization. And
nothing so hinders the realization of the Universal Self as the
hot desires and the petty interests of the particular self. Hence
the one great virtue of India is selflessness. Of course the rank
and file never get far enough on the moral pathway to aim at
this virtue directly; but they recognize its charm and they rev
erence it supremely wherever they find it. Neither rich man nor
1 Bipin Chandra Pal in The Soul of India, pp. 248, 252, 254.
96

DUTY AND DESTINY
Rajah arouses in their hearts such genuine admiration as does
the sannyasi who has renounced the world and given up every
selfish interest in complete resignation to the divine will. Nor
is there any other virtue which the best of their sacred books
and the best of their spiritual teachers so repeatedly emphasize.
"Hateless toward all born beings," says Sri Krishna in the
Gita, "friendly and pitiful, void of a thought of a mine and an
I, bearing indifferently pain and pleasure, patient, ever content,
the Man of the Rule subdued of spirit and steadfast of purpose,
who has his mind and understanding fixed on Me and wor
ships Me, is dear to Me." •
Almost synonymous with selflessness is indifference, which
has been so exalted by all the religions native to India. "One
indifferent to foe and to friend, indifferent in honor and in dis
honor, in heat and in cold, in joy and in pain, free of attach
ment, who holds in equal account blame and praise, silent,
content with whatsoever befall, homeless, firm of judgment,
possessed of devotion, is a man dear to Me." 2 Evil and foolish
men, on the other hand, are those who are ever thinking: "This
desire to-day have I won; this will I attain; this wealth is mine,
this likewise shall afterward be mine. This foe have I slain;
others likewise shall I slay. I am sovran, I am in enjoyment; /
am successful, strong, happy; Jam wealthy, noble; what other
man is like to me? I will make offerings and give alms; I shall
rejoice." "Turned to the thought of I, to force, pride, desire,
and wrath, they jealously bear hate against Me in their own
and in other bodies." 3
Forget yourself! Give up yourself! Root out every selfish im
pulse and desire. This is the ever-repeated message of India.
"Live in the world like a dead leaf," says Ramakrishna. "As
a dead leaf is carried by the wind into a house or on the road
side and has no choice of its own, so let the wind of the Divine
Will blow you wherever it chooses. Now it has placed you in
the world, be contented. Again, when it will carry you to a
better place, be equally resigned. The Lord has kept you in
the world, what can you do? Resign everything to Him, even
your own dear self; then all trouble will be over. You will see
1 Bhagavad Gita. xn, 13 and 14. 2 Ibid., XII, 18, 19.
8 Ibid., xvi, 13-15, 18.
97

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
then that He is doing everything: everywhere is the will of
God." 1
It is not without significance that this sincere and earnest
desire for unselfishness — a desire manifest not only in the
various divisions of Hinduism but in nearly all the religions
native to India — should be so often self-defeating. From the
attempt to regard unselfishness as itself a goal, there results, in
most minds, an almost irresistible tendency to consider this
mental state a means of acquiring merit; and so the self is often
denied in order that the self may be glorified. Psychologically
this is due, I suppose, to the innate difficulty of making a nega
tive quantity the object of desire. Whether this is ever really
possible or not, certain it is that real unselfishness of a per
manent and reliable type is very much more easily attainable
by aiming at a positive goal, especially by seeking actively to
forward some great cause, the individual self being thus lost
in the not-self — or in the larger self.
Hindu teaching (until the last few years, at any rate) has
never felt satisfied with the unselfishness which is to be found
in active social service, and so has deprived itself of the greatest
aid to true devotion. The best substitute it has for this is the
bhakta's intense love of God, and the philosopher's doctrine
of the identity of the soul with Brahman. Hinduism teaches
that the desires and interests of the separate self, of the ap
parent self as one might call it, must be suppressed in order that
the true self may be liberated, and its unity with the Universal
and Divine may be realized. The more positive aspect of this
effort is the persistent attempt to realize God in everything and
in every one. And he who succeeds in doing this will find a
universal love and sympathy springing up in his heart, and will
have a reason very literally for loving his neighbor as himself,
because in the last analysis he and his neighbor are one in God.
Says the Mahabharata : —
"This is the sum of all true righteousness —
Treat others as thou wouldst thyself be treated.
Do nothing to thy neighbor which hereafter
Thou wouldst not have thy neighbor do to thee.
In causing pleasure or in giving pain,
1 The Gospel of Ramakrishna, pp. 89-90.
98

DUTY AND DESTINY
In doing good or injury to others,
In granting or refusing a request,
A man obtains a proper rule of action
By looking on his neighbor as himself." l
"We shall see as we study morality," says the "Textbook
of Hindu Religion and Ethics," "that all its precepts are
founded on the recognition of the unity of the Self. If there is
only one Self, any act by which I injure my neighbor must in
jure me." It is related of Baba Arjundas, a much-revered
Hindu saint who died only a few years ago, that at the Allaha
bad Mela of 1895 he was found by an acquaintance weeping
and calling out that a policemen had been beating him. Such
an outrage was unthinkable in India, but the old gentleman
was asked to point out the policeman who had committed the
cowardly sacrilege. At last he did so, but, seeming to come
back to himself, he added : " It was not this me that he beat,
but another me." 2 The truly moral Hindu should have become
so selfless as to be almost unable to distinguish between himself
and other selves. And this sympathy of his should be literally
boundless, extending far even beyond humanity and including
within its loving embrace every form of sentient life. For the
animals too are souls, and every soul is ultimately a spark of
the Divine Fire.
This view of the identity of the self with God weakens, to
a considerable degree, the belief in personal responsibility and
the sense of it. Here is another aspect of the contrast already
pointed out between Hindu and Christian ethics. The Chris
tian moralist lays his emphasis upon the responsibility of every
soul in all his choices. The Hindu is seeking chiefly to cultivate
certain habitual reactions, points of view, and emotional moods,
and gives comparatively little attention to responsibility and
choice. In fact, if he be a follower of Shankara's monistic
Vedanta, he will admit frankly that he has no such thing as
choice and that free will is only an illusion. The bhaktas or
members of the great sects, on the other hand, may and often
do believe in freedom. The Bhagavad Gita throughout pre-
1 xm, 5571, translated by Monier Williams, Brahmanism and Hinduism,
PP- 547-48.
1 The Soul of India, p. 47. 99

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
supposes the reality of free choice. Ramanuja's systematiza-
tion of the Vedanta, to be sure, makes the human soul a part of
God in such a way that it is God, not man, who makes the
choice and does whatever is done. But after Ramanuja's death,
his followers divided on this question of free will, the southern
party denying it while the northerners affirmed it.1
The Vedantist and the bhakta differ not only on the ques
tion of free will, but also on the kind of salvation that they de
sire. Both seek " realization," but the relation to God, the kind
of union or communion with God, which they strive for, is not
quite the same for both. "The follower of the monistic Ve
danta," says Ramakrishna, "who seeks to realize the Absolute
Brahman discriminates, saying: 'Not this, not this.' That is,
the Absolute is not this, not that, nor any finite object, not the
individual soul [as such], not the external world [for this is
Maya, Illusion]. When as a result of this kind of reasoning the
heart ceases to be moved by desires, when, in fact, the mind
is merged in superconsciousness, then Brahman-knowledge is
reached. One who has truly attained to this Brahman-knowl
edge realizes that Brahman, the Absolute, alone is real and the
world is unreal, and that all names and forms are like dreams.
The dualist devotees and lovers of the Personal God, — the
bhaktas, — on the contrary, say that the external world is the
glory of the Lord. The heavens, stars, moon, mountains, ocean,
men, birds, and beasts, all these He has created. He manifests
His glory by these. He is both within and without. He dwells
in our hearts. A bhakta wishes to enjoy communion with his
Lord and not to become identical with Him. His desire is not to
become sugar, but to taste of sugar. He says, ' O Lord, Thou
art the Master, I am Thy servant. Thou art my Mother and
I am Thy child. Thou art the Whole, I am Thy part.' He does
not wish to say, 'I am Brahman.'" 2
The pathways to these contrasted goals, of course, also differ.
The Vedantist takes the way of inaction and knowledge, the
bhakta the way of devotion. It has been a tradition — almost
1 Rather picturesquely the two schools are known respectively as the
"cat school" and the "monkey school": for the kitten is quite passive and
has to be carried by its mother, while the little monkey actively clings to its
mother with its arms about her neck.
2 The Gospel of Ramakrishna, pp. 146-48. IOO

DUTY AND DESTINY
a truism — with the conservative school of Indian thinkers for
twenty-five hundred years that every sort of action, no matter
what its moral quality, inevitably accumulates karma, and
therefore hinders and delays the liberation of the soul. Hence
the ideal method for him who is in earnest in the great busi
ness of life is to retire from all active occupations, refrain from
every kind of work, and give up his whole time to meditation
and the acquisition of "Brahman-knowledge." The bhaktas
with whom the ideas originated that get their classic expres
sion in the Gita, while admitting that the way of inaction and
knowledge if carefully followed would lead to salvation, pointed
out a simpler and a better way. It is, they said, not work itself
and as such which binds one down to this world, but the spirit
in which the work is done. The whole question is thus psy
chological ; and the struggle is removed altogether to the inner
sphere. The thing that binds the soul in slavery to the flesh
and to this evil world is the worldly state of mind. Hence it is
perfectly possible to do all one's duties as a member of society
and still avoid the accumulation of new karma, provided one's
aim in so doing be altogether selfless. "Do thine ordained
work: for work is more excellent than no-work." "In Works
be thine office: in their fruits must it never be. Be not moved
by the fruits of Works : but let not attachment to worklessness
dwell in thee. Abiding under the Rule and casting off attach
ment, so do thy work, indifferent alike whether thou gain or
gain not." l
If we add to this inner state of selflessness the more positive
injunction of faith in the personal God and warm love and
devotion to Him and to His incarnations, we shall understand
the way of salvation which has been preached and practiced
by the Indian bhaktas from the beginning of our era down to
our own days. And as the reader will see, there is considerable
similarity between this and the Christian view. This similarity
is gladly recognized by many Indians. Enthusiastic followers
of Ramanuja sincerely say to the missionary: "We are one at
heart. The oneness of God, the spirituality of God, salvation
by the grace of God and by His grace alone, God taking human
form to save our souls, salvation as deliverance from the bond-
1 Bhagavad Gita, m, 8; n, 47, 48.
IOI

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
age of sin and selfishness — all these points are common to both
parties." l
In spite of these resemblances, however, there are also dif
ferences between the Christian and the Hindu points of view
quite as fundamental. One concerns the metaphysical ques
tion of the relation of the soul to God : for though Ramanuja
leaves the soul some degree of individuality, it has the same
relation to God that our bodies have to our souls. But a more
important and practical difference is to be found in the moral
ideals of the two religions. For the Indian ideal, as we have
seen, is almost altogether a subjective one. The Hindu's gaze
has been so concentrated on the realization of his own union
with God that he has almost never had any time to think seri
ously of bringing about a Kingdom of Heaven on earth. The
idea that the end of action could be found in social values, that
" the Kingdom of God is in your midst," is a conception which
has seldom presented itself to his mind except to be rejected and
scorned. As a result of this preeminently subjective point of
view in Indian ethics, strenuous activity for a great charitable
or social cause has almost always been looked at rather askance
even by the finest and most truly sympathetic of Hindu saints.
There have been exceptions, but the exceptions were very un-
Indian in type. Ramakrishna, who was certainly one of the fin
est examples of Hindu spirituality of whom we know anything,
said to Keshub Chunder Sen, "You talk glibly of doing good to
the world. Who are you to do good to the world? First prac
tice devotional exercises and realize God. Attain to Him. If
He graciously gives you His powers, then you can help others,
and not till then. . . . Say when you pray: ' Lord, grant that my
work in the world and for the world may grow less and less day
by day, for I see that my work growing manifold only makes
me lose sight of Thee.' ... A man desired to see the shrine of
the Divine Mother. On his way he stopped and spent all the
day in distributing alms to the poor. When he went to the
shrine, the door was closed and he could not see the Holy of
Holies. The wise ones should first see the Holy Mother, and
seeing Her they may then turn their attention to almsgiving
and other good works if they so desire. All good works are for
1 Mr. Froelich in the Indian Interpreter for July, 1912.
102

DUTY AND DESTINY
the realization of God. Works are the means, and God-vision
is the end." l
"God-vision is the end." And what is it? Ah, that is some
thing which may be experienced, but which in its fullness can
never be described. In fact, he who once plunges into the depths
of the Infinite Ocean of the Divine never comes back to describe
what he has seen. ' ' Sukadeva and other great spiritual teachers
stood on the shore of that Infinite Ocean, saw it and touched its
waters. Some believe that even those great souls did not go
into the Ocean, for whoever enters into that Ocean of Brahman
does not return to this mundane existence. A doll made of
salt once went to the ocean to measure its depth. It had a de
sire to tell others how deep the ocean was. Alas! its desire was
never satisfied. No sooner had it plunged into the ocean than
it melted away and became one with the ocean. Who could
bring the news regarding the depth of the sea? Such also is the
condition of the soul who enters into the Infinite Ocean of the
Absolute Brahman." 2
Yet it is possible to stand by the side of the Endless Sea,
touch and taste its waters and hear its thunder and return
home again with some faint words descriptive of what one has
seen. So one may gain a vision of the Divine and still live on
in the world of men. "Cry to God with a yearning heart,"
says Ramakrishna, "and then you will see Him. The rosy light
of dawn comes before the rising sun: likewise a longing and
yearning heart is the sign of God-vision that comes after."
The realization of God's presence in one's heart has been
the unfading and unchanging ideal of India these twenty-five
hundred years and it is to-day. That exclusive longing for it
has shut from the Hindu's view various social values and practi-
1 Op. cit., pp. 170-72. A learned and enthusiastic Brahmin whom I met
on a train preached me an impromptu and rather beautiful sermon on the
way of salvation. Among other things he said: "The chief obstacles in the
way of freedom are self-interest, the impulse to destroy others, and conceit.
Of these conceit is perhaps the most insidious. It often takes the form of
our thinking ourselves able to help others — hence as being superior to
others. This we must root out. We should never seek to do good to others
for the others' sake, but only for our own sakes, as a step in our own salva
tion; for to seek to do them good for their own sakes [objectively] would
involve conceit on our part."
' Ibid., p. 109.
103

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
cal altruistic aims we have already seen. Aside from this, its
negative aspect, how we shall evaluate this supreme ideal of
India will depend for each of us on his attitude toward mys
ticism in general. To the purely practical man this "realiza
tion of the Divine ' ' will, no doubt, be a stumbling-block, and to
the materialistic scientist it will be but foolishness; while to
them who believe in a transcendent yet immanent spiritual
world, it will be as the Power of God and the Wisdom of God.
Doubtless it is easy and often natural for us to say to the
sannyasi on the banks of the Ganges that his "realization" is
mere fancy and self-delusion, and nothing, nothing more. He
has been told that many times. But ever he and with him the
whole army of mystics respond, as Faust to Mephistopheles:r-
"In deinem Nichts hoff' ich das All zufinden.''
So much for the Indian ideal and the means for its achieve
ment; so much for the soul's duty. What of its destiny? "If
a man die, shall he live again?" This very human cry in the
face of the Great Mystery has resounded through India as
through all other lands these thousands of years. Perhaps
seven centuries before Christ it was phrased in the Upanishads
in a form strikingly like that in which it was repeated a little
later by the writer of the Book of Job in distant Israel. "Like
a mighty tree in the forest, so in truth is man. But while a tree,
when felled, grows up again more young from the root, from
what root, tell me, does a mortal grow up, after he has been
felled by death?"1
Another of the Upanishads tells us that when little Nachi-
ketas went to the House of Death, the Terrible One was pleased
with the boy and told him to ask three boons, promising to
grant them whatever they might be. The boy's first and second
requests do not here concern us, but in the third he said: —
"There is that doubt, when a man is dead, — some saying
he is; others he is not. This I should like to know, taught by
thee; this is the third of my boons."
Death said: "Choose another boon, O Nachiketas, do not
press me; let me off that boon. Choose sons and grandsons,
who shall live a hundred years, herds of cattle, elephants, gold,
1 Brihad. Up., in, 9, 28.
104

THE BURNING GHATS, BENARES

DUTY AND DESTINY
horses. Choose the wide abode of the earth and live thyself as
many harvests as thou desirest. If you can think of any boon
equal to that, choose wealth and long life. Be king, Nachiketas,
on the wide earth; but do not ask me about dying."
Nachiketas said: "These things last till to-morrow, O
Death. Even the whole of life is short. Keep thou thy horses,
keep dance and song for thyself. No man can be made happy
by wealth. Shall we possess wealth when we see Thee? Only
that boon which I have chosen is to be chosen by me. That on
which there is this doubt, O Death, tell us what there is in the
great Hereafter. Nachiketas does not choose another boon but
that which enters into the hidden world."
So at last Death answered: "The knowing Self is not born;
it dies not : it sprang from nothing, nothing sprang from it. The
ancient is unborn, eternal, everlasting: he is not killed though
the body is killed. If the slayer think that he slays, or if the
slain think he is slain, they do not understand, for this one does
not slay nor is that one slain. The Self, smaller than small,
greater than great, is hidden in the heart of that creature. A
man who is free from desires and free from grief sees the majesty
of the Self by the grace of the great Creator. The wise who
knows the Self as bodiless within the bodies, as unchanging
among changing things, as great and omnipresent, does not
grieve." 1
This message which Death gave to little Nachiketas over
twenty-five hundred years ago has never been forgotten in
India. Never forgotten and I might almost add never doubted.
"The knowing Self is not born;, it dies not." There can be no
question that the belief in immortality is very much stronger
and very much more prevalent in India than it is in Europe or
America. Almost every one accepts it, takes it as a matter of
course and plans his life in reference to it. Can we say the same
of Christendom? Ask the man you meet on the street or in the
train. He will be likely to tell you that this is the life he is sure
about and interested in; and he will probably add, " I 'm taking
a chance on the next life." In India they are taking no chances
on the next life : it is this one rather that seems to them uncer
tain. 1 Katha Up., I, I and 2.
105

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
One reason for this greater faith of India is probably to be
found in the absence of Western education and the doubts
which it sows. But it is also due in part, I believe, to the dif
ferent views of the nature of the soul and the nature of its
immortality held by Christianity and by Hinduism. In Chris
tian teaching the life of the soul has a natural beginning and a
supernatural prolongation. The natural thing would be for
the soul to die with the body, with which it began; this I think
is the general feeling, fine-spun arguments to the contrary not
withstanding. The survival of bodily death by the soul is al
ways more or less of a miracle and needs supernatural expla
nation. If it were not for Christ, or at least for God, we as
Christians should hardly hope for immortality. Many of us
can with difficulty conceive how an atheist could believe in
the future life.
Modern Western psychology increases this tendency by its
teaching of the dependence of the mind on the nervous system
and by its view of the "soul" as equivalent merely to the
"stream of consciousness." Thus the belief in the survival of
bodily death is made to seem increasingly unnatural and de
mands more than ever some supernatural support. And at the
same time with this scientific development, the old supernat
ural supports are being noticeably and rapidly weakened. The
result is the open denial of human immortality on the part of a
considerable number of earnest thinkers and by an even larger
number of persons who wish to be considered thinkers: while
a very large proportion of the rest of us feel so uncertain if not
downright skeptical on the subject that we avoid discussion of
it and side-track so far as possible all reference to it. We are
" taking a chance on the next life," and find it hardly good
form to talk much about it.
This is not the case in India. There, as I have said, practically
every one believes in immortality. They live in the light of it.
Paraphrasing Browning's lines, they might almost say: —
"Leave now for dogs, apes, and Europeans;
We have forever."
There are atheistic philosophers in India, but these maintain
the deathlessness of the soul as confidently and enthusiasti-
106

DUTY AND DESTINY
cally as do the theists and Vedantists. For in India the belief
in the soul's immortality is based not upon God nor upon any
supernatural interference or influence, but on the very nature
of the soul itself. Its survival of the death of the body is in no
way miraculous, for it did not begin with the body nor is it
dependent upon the body. It is not a "stream of conscious
ness," a "bundle or collection of different perceptions," as
Hume called it. It is a knowing subject, a real and potential
character. Existence is part of its nature. It will never cease
to be because it never began to be. If you admit a beginning
for it, you give up the whole argument. What begins must in
the course of nature end — as the Buddha pointed out long
ago. But "the knowing Self is not born; it dies not. It sprang
from nothing; nothing sprang from it." "Never have I not
been," says Sri Krishna to Arjun; "never hast thou not been,
and never shall time yet come when we shall not all be. Of
what is not there cannot be being; of what is there cannot be
ought but being." 1
It would seem that the conception of the soul as the "know
ing Self," together with a belief in its eternity backward as well
as forward, its essential eternity, were necessary to make the
belief in immortality natural and independent of any God or
any supernatural influence or assistance. But such a concep
tion, of course, involves some hypothesis as to the story of the
soul through its long preexistence and the goal that it seeks in
its long future. A cosmic conception that will do this and at
the same time take up into itself all the empirical facts of this
present life, will inevitably make a strong appeal to many
minds. And, as the reader knows, the Indian conception of
Transmigration does just this.
Everybody in the West knows about transmigration, and
almost everybody takes it as a joke. It means (so most people
will tell you) that when we die, we're going to be reborn as
pigs or insects; just as people will still assure you that evolu
tion "means" that our ancestors were monkeys. Now, it is
doubtless true that the theory of evolution does trace our an
cestry back to the apes; but to identify this great cosmic view
with a particular statement as to certain of your ancestors and
1 Bhagavad Gita, II, 12 and 16.
107

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
mine argues a complete failure to grasp the real significance of
the fundamental hypothesis of modern biology. And in like
manner, the doctrine of transmigration does teach that men
who have prostrated their moral sense and their reason and
have sinned against the light in this life will be given in their
next birth a body more suitable to their nature than the human
form divine; but to take this particular assertion as the essen
tial part of a cosmic scheme that seeks to include all destiny
from everlasting to everlasting, is, to say the least, a token of
surprising ignorance or else a very poor joke.
To put it in a word, transmigration means education. It is an
attempt to view the whole cosmic process in the light of the
soul's purification and progress. It is based upon the pro
foundly ethical postulate that in the moral sphere no less than
in the physical, whatsoever a man soweth that shall he also
reap. Every meanest act produces its inevitable result in fu
ture character and future fate. The cosmos takes account of
moral deserts, so that the deed and the deed's requital are one
and the same act. Reward and punishment are thus not some
thing external to the act, imposed from without upon the actor
by an external judge: they are the inevitable fruit of the act
itself, and in very truth a part of it. Man's fate is not imposed
upon him by a stern or gracious Ruler of the universe: in the
words of an ancient Greek philosopher, "man's character is his
destiny." The Hindu calls the great law that a man inevitably reaps
what he sows, the Law of Karma. He also uses the word
karma to mean the merits and demerits which one acquires by
his good and evil acts. When a man dies he has a certain
amount of karma which he carries with him and which must
somehow be worked off. Part of this is got rid of, so to speak,
in the intermediary state which Hindu doctrine places be
tween successive lives on earth. The details of this doctrine
are complex and need not detain us here. They involve the
conception of the various "sheaths" of the soul already re
ferred to. Some of these stay with one through "Pretaloka,"
a kind of purgatory to which man goes after death, and where
after purging away some of his evil karma he puts off one more
of his sheaths. " Pitriloka " is his next place of abode, and from
108

DUTY AND DESTINY
there he goes to "Svarga," where he dwells in happiness and
" changes the good thoughts and desires of his past life on earth
into definite mental moods or capacities [just as he has done*
in this world, only that in Svarga it is done much more effec
tively]. When the thought impulses started during life are
finally exhausted, he returns to another incarnation on this
earth. His mental and emotional capacities are reborn with
him in the next birth, forming what is called character." x And
not only the man's character but his external condition in his
new incarnation is determined by his old karma. Thus, not
only in the intermediate states but in the new earthly life he is
still working out the old karma; and while doing so he is, of
course, acquiring new karma. So that, as some one has said,
karma is like a clock that winds itself up by the very process of
running down.
There is, however, a way of release from this wheel of re
birth, — namely, the means toward "liberation" and "reali
zation" studied in the first part of this chapter. The world is
like a great school. In each class we stay till we have learned
our lesson. Those who do not learn must return the next year,
so to speak, and take the course over again. Some, in fact, who
do very badly are even sent back to a lower class. But those
who earnestly try are promoted from class to class. And at
last comes graduation day. By means of self-mastery and:
selflessness, by knowledge or devotion, we may finally be freed
from all karma and enter into the perfect realization of the
Divine which is the goal of all our souls and all our striving. {
For though Hinduism cannot say with St. Augustine that God
has made us for Himself, — inasmuch as we were not made at
all, but are eternally parts or offshoots of the Supreme, — it can
and does insist that our souls are restless till they rest in Him.
As to what is the exact nature of this final consummation of
our long wanderings there is some difference of opinion among
the Indian schools. The bhaktas regard it as a personal im
mortality in blissful communion with the personal God. An
old monk in a Vaishnavite monastery at Benares told me
that he expected to go at death directly to Rama's heaven and
there to remain, in the presence of the One God, for all eternity.
1 Govinda Das, Hinduism and India (Benares, 1908), pp. 72-73-
IO9

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
"Whatever be thy work," says Sri Krishna to Arjun, "thy
sacrifice, thy gift, thy mortification, make thou of it an offer
ing to Me. Thus shalt thou be released from the bonds of
Works, fair or foul of fruit: thy spirit inspired by casting-off
of Works and following my Rule, thou shalt be delivered and
come unto Me. They that worship me with devotion dwelljn
Me and I in them. None who is devoted to me is lost. Have
thy mind on Me, thy devotion toward Me, thy sacrifice to Me.
Thus guiding thyself, given over to Me, so to Me shalt thou

come.

i

For the Vedantist the final goal is Moksha,2 the losing of
one's self in the Divine, the complete identification of the
human self with the Universal Self. Toward the close of the
Brihadaranyaka Upanishad we are given an account of the fate
of the "man who desires," — i.e., of the man who still has some
karma to work out, who has not yet attained to liberation and
realization. The text then continues: "So much for the man
who desires. But as for the man who does not desire, who not
desiring, freed from desires, desires the Self only, his vital
spirits at death do not depart elsewhere. Being Brahman he
goes to Brahman. When all desires which once entered his
heart are undone, then does the mortal become immortal, then
he obtains Brahman. And as the slough of a snake lies on an
ant-hill, dead and cast away, thus lies this body; but that dis
embodied, immortal spirit is Brahman only, is only light." 3
Such, then, is the Hindu doctrine of Destiny. The Indians
almost unanimously consider it by far the most satisfactory
solution of the problems of life and of the universe that the
human mind has ever conceived. They insist, among other
things, that it alone solves the problem of evil. The inequali
ties of this life, its seemingly strange distribution of pains and
pleasures, are made consistent with the perfect justice of the
universe by the assumption that a man's fortune in this life is
an exact index of his merit in the last. As to this particular
! l Bhagavad Gita, ix, 27, 28, 29, 31, 34.
2 As a matter of fact very few expect to attain to Moksha at the con
clusion of this life. A Hindu friend of mine told me he had met but two men
who looked for it so soon. Most instead look forward to a blissful svarga
and a good rebirth.
» rv, 4, 6-7. IIO

DUTY AND DESTINY
claim it must be pointed out that its cogency will depend upon
the further question as to how the merit in the former life was
determined. If, as Shankara's Vedanta maintains, it was due
in its turn to previous karma, genuinely free choice nowhere
having anything to do with it, then we shall find it impossible
to admit that the transmigration theory has any advantage
over other theories as a solution of the problem of evil. This
criticism, however, cannot be brought against those schools of
Hindu thought which maintain the freedom of the will. The
working of the theory in practical life, on the other hand, has
(as we shall see) certain very great disadvantages, resulting
often in self-righteousness on the part of the high-born, undue
servility among the lower castes, and strange lack of sympathy
toward the unfortunate.
Yet the great moral significance of the theory must not be
overlooked. We commonly say that it is the Semites who have
developed the moral side of religion, and that the Indians have
paid but scant attention to it. And in one sense this is true.
Jehovah and Allah are moral Gods in a sense that Brahman
and all his devas certainly are not. But it must be pointed out
that the Semitic universe is moral because Jehovah or Allah
forces it to be; while the Indian universe is moral in and of it
self. The Indian atheist believes both in the immortality of the
soul and in the morality of the universe; the atheist of Hebrew,
Christian, or Mohammedan extraction believes in neither. The
Law of Karma is independent of the Gods, and whoever be
lieves in it believes that the laws of morality are more funda
mental than those of physics, that the moral struggle is so
fierce as to occupy thousands of incarnations, and so important
that it is the central fact of the whole cosmic drama. A theory
such as this, and one with such a venerable history behind it,
numbering as it does among its adherents not only Shankara
and the Buddha, but Empedokles and Plato and a host of
other thinkers, deserves at least to be taken seriously.
The great criticism to be brought against the reincarnation
theory is that it can produce scarcely a shred of empirical evi
dence. But as this holds equally well of all doctrines of the fu
ture life, it will not help us in determining the relative merit of
any. An objection which will appeal to many is to be found
III

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
in the considerable loss that would seem to result if those who,
after the training of a lifetime of study, suffering, and endeavor,
go to their graves full of years and of wisdom, are to be reborn
shortly thereafter as ignorant and helpless infants. It seems,
indeed, a pity that the spiritual gains of a long and strenuous
life should go for so little and that so much of the struggle
should have to be repeated. A more serious objection is of a
technical and philosophical nature, and has to do with the
question of personal identity. What do you mean, one may
well ask the defender of this theory, when you say that the
same self is reborn in another body? If we follow Ribot, whose
analysis has been accepted by most psychologists, self-identity
from a psychological point of view means to us (pragmati
cally) similar bodily feelings and sensations plus conscious
memory.1 If the " soul " be reborn in a perfectly new body and
bereft of all its memories, it is hard to see what can be the
pragmatic meaning of calling it "the same" soul. If, now, our
Indian friend appeals from psychology to metaphysics, and
claims identity only for an immaterial substance, it will not be
hard to show him, with the aid of John Locke, that personal
identity and identity of "substance" are two very different
things,2 and that the only identity any one has ever had a vital
interest in is the identity of the person. If it is only an "imma
terial substance" or a characterless pure perceiving subject
that is reborn, in what sense can it be called identical with the
"substance," "subject," or "soul" of the man who died?
To this the Hindu will answer that while particular conscious
memories are not reborn in the new incarnation, what may be
called general and potential memories are. And these are by
far the most important: for they have become crystallized into
emotional moods, tendencies to reaction, ways of thinking —
in short, into character and temperament. The one great pur
pose, moreover, of moral redemption is carried over without
break from one life to the other. And in addition to this simi
larity of content, there is a continuity between the two lives con
tributed by the knowing subject, in whose consciousness there
1 See, for example, Ribot's Les Maladies de la MSmoire (Paris, Alcan,
1901), pp. 83-86.
2 See Locke's An Essay concerning Human Understanding, book 11, chap. 27.
112

DUTY AND DESTINY
is no real break. Thus the two successive lives are joined by
both continuity of view and similarity of content; and if these
be not enough to permit us to speak of self -identity in the two
incarnations, then, the Hindu will assure us, it would be diffi
cult to see how we could affirm it within one life, or ever say
that the old man who dies is the same self that was born "a
puling infant" nearly a century before.
Whatever we may think of these arguments and of the doc
trine of transmigration when viewed by itself alone, it may be
of interest to compare it directly with the Protestant Christian
doctrine that the soul at death passes immediately into heaven
or hell and remains there eternally. The most noticeable fact
about the Christian doctrine of hell at the present time is that
belief in it is rapidly disappearing. The Universalists have
millions of converts in denominations that bear other names.
For a very large number of Christian people, who are in other
respects quite orthodox, hell has become a kind of joke. The
chief reason for this is, I suppose, the rather common feeling
that a just God (to say nothing of a merciful one) could not
mete out eternal punishment for the sins of a paltry threescore
years and ten ; and that a sensible God could not allow so short
a time to count for everything in determining a man's fate, and
successive endless centuries to count for absolutely nothing.
This, at any rate, is certainly one of the factors that have con
tributed to make the Christian doctrine of hell seem irrational
and almost unthinkable to the modern man. The doctrine of
, incarnation, on the other hand, avoids at least this difficulty.
It provides inevitable and suitable punishment for every sinful
act and wish, in the very fruit of the wish and of the act itself;
but it provides only finite punishments for finite sins, and it
makes the soul answerable for all its acts including those of its
endless future. Even to the worst of beings the door of oppor
tunity is never quite shut, if he really wills to turn from his evil
way and live; nowhere in its universe is there a portal over
which is written: "Who enter here leave hope behind."
But perhaps we still believe in the Christian hell. If so how
many of our acquaintances do we honestly think ought to go
there? A quarter of them? — I trust not. A fifth? A tenth?
Very well. What about the nine tenths who are left? Are they
H3

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
fit for heaven? Are they ready for the beatific vision? And if
they all go there, what will heaven be like? Look around you
at the people you see; think over the people you know. They
are not bad people. But what kind of a place will heaven be if
they — if most of us — are ready for it? Will it be worth going
to; will it be endurable for all eternity? If one may judge by
watching the people whom one sees, the sort of heaven that most
of them would vote for would be, not, indeed, the luxurious gar
dens of the Koran, but perhaps a Biergarten, or a vaudeville,
or the " movies." How many of them would care for the beati
fic vision? How many of us are ready for heaven?
It may be said in reply that at death we become so trans
formed in desire and character as to be made fit at once for the
presence of God. But surely a transformation of such a nature
and extent and brought about so suddenly would make the
assertion of personal identity almost meaningless: we should
be faced at least with as great a difficulty as that which I urged
above against transmigration. And more serious than this
difficulty is the consideration that the idea of such a moral
transformation wrought miraculously by the external and acci
dental fact of death completely belittles the moral struggle,
ignores the nature of moral life, and makes spiritual progress
not a matter of inner achievement, but one of external accre
tion imposed from without. The Hindu thinker would smile at
such a doctrine.
The truth is, we Westerners are in too much of a hurry for
our heaven to be willing to wait for a good one. We must have
it right off at the end of this life. Our business ideals of prompt
ness, speed, and hustle have affected our theology. To wait
more than threescore years and ten is to us intolerable. We can
hardly even conceive of the great patience of the East which is
willing to wait through a thousand lives — through a hundred
thousand lives — and which can afford to do so because its
faith in the soul and its eternal hope is so infinitely strong.
Personally I do not believe in transmigration. But I am open
to conviction. And I feel very strongly the nobility and beauty
of the doctrine. There is an undeniable dignity in the Hindu
conception of the soul, pursuing its long pilgrimage through
dying bodies and decaying worlds, until at last it reaches home
114

DUTY AND DESTINY
in the Endless Sea. And not only has the doctrine its own no
bility: it lends a dignity and a sense of cosmic significance to
Indian life. Fear and pettiness can hardly stand before this
intuition. Calmness and peace tend to take their place, and a
certain poise that makes one ready for all that comes. "Sub
dued in spirit and steadfast in purpose" — such is the Indian
ideal — ready for life and ready for death. For the Hindu does
not believe he is going to enter into eternal life; he believes he
is living the eternal life already. He is in a condition of spiritual
equilibrium, like a buoyant body on the wave or a sea-gull in
the air. The body is transitory, for it is merely "this patched-
together hiding-place," and the "body-dweller," the eternal
soul, the knowing Self, has passed through many and many a
form like this before. "As a man lays aside outworn garments
and takes others that are new, so the body-dweller puts away
outworn bodies and goes to others that are new."
"Weapons cleave not This, fire burns not This, waters wet not This, wind
dries it not.
"Not to be cleft is This, not to be burned; everlasting is This, firm, motion
less, ancient of days.
"Unshown is this called, unalterable: therefore knowing it thus, thou
dost not well to grieve." 1
1 Bhagavad Gita, n, 22-25.

CHAPTER VII
THE HINDU DHARMA
IT is to be hoped that the reader will not suppose that by
learning the Hindu views of the Gods, Philosophy, and Fate,
he has learned "the Hindu religion." To us Christians it has
become so natural to identify religion with creed that it is diffi
cult at first to conceive of religion being anything else. To
make such an identification, however, is in fact very provincial,
— both spatially and temporally. The ancients, for instance,
did not view matters at all in our way. A Greek thinker,
such as Aristotle, could give up all belief in his country's gods,
and yet never be regarded as a heretic provided he fulfilled reg
ularly all the external duties which religious custom demanded.
So it is with the Hindu. He has always enjoyed very ample
liberty of thought, because he and his fellows have never con
ceived of religion as being in any way identical with creed.
The Hindu atheist is in as good and regular standing as the
polytheist, the theist, or the pantheist, and provided he lives
according to the ancient customs is never regarded as in any
way heretical. In fact Hinduism includes within itself every
kind of creed, and from this point of view claims to be the only
really universal religion extant. One of its defenders writes: —
"From the crudest kinds of animism to the most refined
spiritual worships, all are accommodated by and accounted for
in Hinduism. It believes that each religion and all the religions
together are only ' feeling after ' the Absolute. They are all true
in their own proper place; and none possess the absolute and
final revelation of the Infinite. And this is why Hinduism can
legitimately claim to be the only true universal religion in the
world. "For Hinduism is not one religion like Christianity, Islam, or
even Judaism ; but correctly speaking it is a compendium of
many creeds and cults, all united in a common culture and a
common ideal-end. Hinduism accepts whatever may be or is
116

THE HINDU DHARMA
classed as religion as parts of itself. As a religion Hinduism
has no quarrel either with Christianity or Islam, Judaism or
Zoroastrianism. A Hindu, provided only he accepts the social
economy and observes the purificatory laws and regulations of
the Hindu culture, may well believe in and worship Jesus
Christ, or acknowledge the authority of the Prophet of Me
dina in all matters of faith." 1
Naturally there is an obverse side to this all-inclusiveness
which does not appear so brilliant and attractive. As another
Hindu puts it, "To-day Hinduism is an agglomeration of
everything under heaven and earth, from the acutest philoso
phy to the most barbarous fetish worship; all shades of the
highest ideals coupled with the most degrading practices are
enfolded within its all-embracing creeds." 2
It is inappropriate, then, to speak of Hinduism as "a faith."
Hinduism means rather the accepted manner of Ufe of those born
within certain castes and families in India. When Hindus them
selves refer to Hinduism they do not speak of it as a religion :
they use the word Dharma. Only in the most general way can
Dharma be said to mean religion. A better translation for it is
Law, — the inner and constitutive and ideal nature of a thing.
It corresponds somewhat to the Aristotelian form. Thus even
non-sentient things have a dharma — heat being the dharma of
fire and sound that of ether. It is the proper function or ideal
nature of a thing. And thus dharma as applied to man and so
ciety will include the whole of human culture, in which each
individual has his own part to play, his own duties to perform,
so that the totality of men and gods, of earth and heaven, may
form one complete and perfect whole. As this conception of
dharma was formed before the Indians knew that there was
any land but India, the word came to mean the civilization and
ideals and traditional ways of acting of the Indians. Hinduism
is thus "a culture, not a creed "; and from this point of view one
of its admirers writes : —
"Dogmas and creeds may to some extent be imposed from
the outside: but real piety must grow from within. And what
is to be developed from within must work upon the inner nature
1 Hindu Review, June, 1913, pp. 580-81.
2 Govinda Das, Hinduism and India.
117

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
of the person in whom it is to grow. And as men's inner natures
differ in the case of different people, so their religious duties and
disciplines must also be different. What may be helpful to one
person may not be helpful to another. There cannot be, there
fore, any universal creed or any uniform ritual in a religion that
seeks not to preach opinion, but to grow character." 1
This decidedly loose organization of Hinduism comes out
plainly in the question of the seat of authority. According to
Manu this is to be found first of all in the Veda, after that in the
Smriti, or Traditions, in the usages of good and noble men, and
in one's own reason and experience. As to the way in which the
term "Veda" shall here be interpreted the Hindus do not fully
agree. Commonly the word is used to refer to the ancient
hymns and verses of the earliest Indian Aryans and to the
Brahmanas (or early ritualistic books) and the Upanishads.
These, as making up the "Vedas," or the "Veda," are sup
posed to have been revealed to the ancient Aryan seers or
"Rishis," at the beginning of our cycle. But we are also told
repeatedly, that the Veda is eternal: that it is revealed to the
Rishis at the beginning not only of our age, but at the beginning
of every age, and by them disseminated among men. In this
sense of the word, the Veda seems hardly to refer to our partic
ular editions, say, of the Rig Veda or the Upanishads, but
rather to be equivalent to Divine Truth as such. It is in this
large sense that many of the more enlightened Hindus take the
word.2 Man has, according to the Hindu view, two kinds of
knowledge — or at least is capable of having two kinds — a
sensuous and a super-sensuous. The former includes all that is
based on sense-perception and worked out by logic. The other
is different in kind: it is an immediate intuition of Divine
Truth, and it has quite a different organ from the senses or the
intellect. It is potentially the same in all human beings though
actually inexhaustible. The historical Vedas are the expression
of it as it existed in the teachings of the ancient Rishis. As such
they are reliable and authoritative. But the Divine Voice did
not cease speaking when their ears were stopped. The days of
1 Bipin Chandra Pal, The Soul of India, p. 220.
2 Cf. the editorial on "The Seat of Authority in Hinduism," in the Hindu
Review for September, 1913. 118

THE HINDU DHARMA
inspiration have never ceased and never will cease. Each of us
is capable of the same sort of spiritual vision which the Rishis
enjoyed, and innumerable religious teachers from their day to
ours have added to their inspired message. The Hindu has a
large confidence that all this inspired super-sensuous knowl
edge will be and must be consistent with itself, and in this trust
he usually is not careful to compare the statements of new
teachers with the words of the Vedas — though he may some
times do so. The Vedas are authoritative — yes; but they have
not been reduced to creeds and made the basis of systematic
heresy trials.
But though Hinduism has no narrow creed and is "univer
sal" in the sense that it has a place for every sort of contradic
tory belief, — atheism included, — it is decidedly provincial
from another point of view. To be a Hindu one must have a
definite place in the Hindu social structure. One must be born
in a Hindu family and as a member of some particular caste.
And if one is not fortunate enough to be a Hindu by birth there
is no chance for him in this present life. You and I might accept
Shiva and Vishnu with all their wives and avatars, we might
learn the Vedas by heart and do puja before the lingam seven
times a day with endless Ganges water, and we should come no
nearer to being accepted as Hindus than we were at birth. Out
siders, indeed, have been accepted into Hinduism by the thou
sand; but this is only when whole tribes are adopted bodily and
made over into Hindu castes by the local Brahmin authorities.
And if you and I do not happen to belong to a tribe that the
Brahmins will adopt entire, our only way of joining Hinduism
is to die and take a chance on being born into a luckier tribe
and a more fortunate family.1
Of course, birth within the fortunate fold is not enough. One
may fall from grace. To retain one's position among the or-
1 One cannot even marry into Hinduism, for the Dharma does not admit
of Hindus being unequally yoked together with others and will not recognize
the marriage between a Hindu and any one not born within the fold. If a
woman of Christian or Moslem birth should be converted to full belief in
Shiva and the rest, and should regularly practice all the appropriate pujas,
it would still be impossible for her to marry a Hindu or be admitted to
the Hindu temples. — Of late years, however, a back door into a quasi-
Hinduism has been opened through the Brahmo and Arya Samajes.
119

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
thodox one must observe Dharma; one must perform the rites
and duties and be true to the sacred customs which go along
with the family and caste into which one has been born. Thus
Hinduism is a very complex thing. It means a certain structure
of society and a certain manner of life in relation to one's whole
social, natural, and supernatural environment. It means
obedience to certain customs and participation — or at least
acquiescence — in certain conditions. Every study of Hindu
ism, therefore, which would not be unpardonably misleading
must give at least some slight consideration to these customs
and traditions, these social forms and these external duties.
Probably the most salient characteristic of the Hindu social
structure is the caste system. Nearly every one who knows
anything at all about India knows about caste, so little need be
said of it here. It originated in the very natural division of
ancient Aryan society into priests, warriors, and producers, —
a division by no means peculiar to India but paralleled among
many primitive peoples. As the Aryans in their gradual con
quest of the Indian peninsula settled down in the midst of a
darker and lower race, they felt the need of keeping their own
blood pure from intermixture and took what means they could
to prevent it. The two chief forces here operative were proba
bly an unargued repugnance against close relations with a lower
race, and a deliberate desire to keep unsullied their own dearly
prized culture — exactly the same two forces, in short, that
make the American of the Southern States emphasize the color
line, and the Californian legislate against the "Yellow Peril." l
The taboo upon intermarriage with the aborigines is thus easily
understood, while the strange and often filthy customs of these
aborigines and the unhygienic and even disgusting nature of
1 The importance of the color line in the origin of Indian caste is reflected
in the fact that one of the two Indian names for caste to-day is varna, or
color. It is interesting to note that the American draws the line in just the
same place where the ancient Aryan drew it and where the modern high-
caste Indian draws it, — namely, on the questions of intermarriage and in-
terdining. The Southerner is willing to praise Booker Washington and even
to call him "Professor" (though never "Mister"); but let him dine with a
white man and there is trouble. And it is noticeable that some of the Anglo-
Indians who are quickest to attack the caste system make quite as much of
color distinctions when they themselves are involved as does the intolerant
high-caste Brahmin. 120

THE HINDU DHARMA
much of their food made the thought of interdining intolerable
to the cleanly and punctilious invaders. As time went on social
distinctions among the Aryans themselves stiffened and each
class developed its own customs and its own class conscious
ness, and by mutual consent rules against intermarriage and
interdining naturally came to mark more and more absolutely
the distinction between the three great classes of Aryan society.
At the same time the conquered and subject members of the
aboriginal races, who were gradually absorbing much of the
civilization of their conquerors, came to be recognized as on
quite a different footing from those of the native inhabitants of
the land who were as yet untouched by Aryan culture. Thus,
long before the beginning of the Christian era there were four
clearly recognized classes or castes: (i) the Brahmins, or priests;
(2) the Kshatriyas, or warriors and rulers; (3) the Vaisyas, or
producers, farmers, business men, artisans; and (4) the non-
Aryan but civilized Shudras, or servants. Beside these there
were the Fifth-Class men, the people who had no caste and
were therefore lumped together under the title "Outcastes."
And before this differentiation had been fully completed sub
divisions began to be formed among the members of the great
castes themselves. These subdivisions were due in part to local
causes. Brahmins in remote parts of the country lost connection
with each other, and while both parties retained the proud title
of Brahmin and the priestly privileges, each community devel
oped traditions of its own and refused to intermarry with the
other. As the Aryans spread their culture over the land, more
over, the Brahmins adopted whole tribes of docile aborigines
into the Hindu fold, and in so doing recognized them as sub
divisions of the Shudra caste and even sometimes admitted
them among the Vaisyas or Kshatriyas. The Outcastes also in
time organized themselves on the Hindu model. As a result I
there are to-day over one hundred and fifty castes of Brahmins ,¦
alone and more than twenty different castes (if we may use the |
word) among the Outcastes; while the total number of castes of
all sorts is upwards of nineteen thousand.1
In a general way one may say that some such division of
1 Stover, India: a Problem, p. in. The number of main castes according
to Professor Howells is 2378 (The Soul of India, p. 105).
121

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
society as the caste system is to be found in other lands besides
India. The peculiar thing about the Indian system is the iron-
bound nature given it by its religious sanction. The different
castes were early regarded — and this is the orthodox theory
to-day — not as different social classes, but as different races of
men, as distinct from each other as different species of animals.1
The four castes within the fold all came from God but from dif
ferent parts of God, four separate creations being thus in
volved.2 Thus the whole system was predetermined by God
before creation, and all the minutest details of its administra
tion have been for centuries regarded, and are still regarded, as
having divine sanction. Probably no European has ever been
better acquainted with Indian society than was the famous
French missionary, the Abbe Dubois, who writes thus: —
" During the many years that I have studied Hindu customs
I cannot say that I have ever observed a single one, however
unimportant and simple, and I may add however filthy and
disgusting, which did not rest on some religious principle or
other. Nothing is left to chance : everything is laid down by
rule, and the foundation of all their customs is purely and sim
ply religion. It is for this reason that the Hindus hold all their
customs and usages to be inviolable, for being essentially reli
gious, they consider them as sacred as religion itself." 3
But perhaps the most important factor in making the caste
system peculiarly sacred in Hindu eyes is its connection with
the theory of rebirth and Karma. According to this hypothesis
(which to the Hindu is no hypothesis, but a fact) every one
receives in this life what he earned in the last; and hence, as
Farquhar puts it, a man's caste is "an infallible index of the
state of his soul." If a man is a Brahmin, it is because he has
earned that proud position through many lives of increasing
1 It must be remembered, however, that in the Hindu's conception there
is no such chasm between the different species of animals, or even between
animals and men, as the West believes in. For Hinduism the animals are
souls like ourselves, though clad in somewhat inferior bodies.
2 One of the names of God in late Vedic times was "Purusha" and he is
pictured in a late verse of the Rig Veda as having created the world by mak
ing a great sacrifice. "The Brahmin was his mouth; the Kshatriya was
made from his arms; the being called Vaisya was his thighs; the Shudra
sprang from his feet." x, 90, 12.
8 Hindu Manners, Customs, and Ceremonies, p. 31.
122

THE HINDU DHARMA
purity and spirituality, and hence ought to be respected and
obeyed; while the man who is born an Outcaste deserves to be.
But if the conception of transmigration and Karma has made
the social structure of India sternly and sometimes cruelly
rigorous, it has also given it a cosmic sanction and an ethical
significance which once understood lend it a real dignity at
least in ideal. For as the devout Hindu conceives of caste, it is
an expression in human society of the fundamental purpose of
the universe; it is an institution framed by the Rishis for the
education of the soul.- In our last chapter I said that in the
Hindu view the world was a great school; and if we revert to
this figure one may add that each of the great castes corre
sponds to one of the classes. Or to use a more Indian com
parison, each of the four castes corresponds to one of the four
periods into which (as we shall see) the life of the individual is
ideally divided. The members of each caste, therefore, find
their positions and their duties assigned to them by the moral
laws of the universe, each being given (in theory) exactly the
place for which his previous training and achievement (in
former births) had prepared him. Thus human society is re
garded as an organic whole in which each man has his own
task to perform, by loyalty to which alone he must be judged;
and he that is here and now faithful over a few things shall in
the next incarnation be made master over many things.
The caste system in theory, therefore, is in some respects
decidedly similar to Plato's theory of what the State should be.
As the reader will remember Plato's ideal Republic was one in
which each of the three great classes — the philosophers, war
riors, and producers — performed its own duty fully and re
spected absolutely the duties and functions of the others.1 The
following words from the Bhagavad Gita hold (except in de
tail) almost as well of the Hellenic as of the Indian ideal: —
"Restraint of spirit and sense, mortification, purity, pa
tience, uprightness, knowledge, discernment, and belief are the
natural works of the Brahmins [philosophers].
1 King Alfred's ideal was much the same, and was phrased in even
more Indian fashion. In his version of the De Consolatione he writes: " A
king must have men of prayer, men of war, and men of work. Without
these tools no king may display his special talent." — Quoted in Taylor's
Mediaeval Mind (London, Macmillan, 191 1), vol. 1, p. 189.
123

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
"Valor, heroic temper, constancy, skill, steadfastness in
strife, largesse, and princeliness are the natural Kshatriya
[warrior] works.
"Tilling the ground, herding kine, and trading are the natu
ral works of Vaisyas [or producers], and the natural work of the
Shudra [the serf] is service.
"According as each man devotes himself to his own proper
work does he attain to consummation. There is more happi
ness in doing one's own Law without excellence than in doing
another's Law well." i
Whatever we may think of the caste system in practice,
there is no denying that in theory it has some qualities to com
mand our respect. It is no small boast of the Indian that in his
land alone in the modern world, those who are regarded as the
spiritual leaders of society are by universal agreement given a
place unquestionably superior to the warrior and the ruler,
while the social position of every one is supposed to depend not
on wealth or power, but on the degree of his inner development.
And if we could share the faith of the Hindu that Karma doeth
all things well and that men are always born just where they
deserve to be, we should probably feel more kindly toward the
caste system than most of us outsiders do. Granted its cosmic
presupposition, the institution has much to say for itself. But
even so, there are very few, even among the Hindus, who will
maintain that it is anything like a perfect system to-day. In
the times of Manu, they tell us, it was perfect, but the race has
so degenerated that the system is no longer what it was meant
to be. And among the changes that have taken place in it,
according to learned Hindus, one of the most unfortunate has
been a steady stiffening and loss of elasticity. The ancient
books recount a number of instances in which men have risen
to a caste higher than that in which they were born by the
exhibition of the powers and capacities characteristic of the
higher caste. Such a rise is impossible to-day. A man's lot is
pretty well settled for him on the day of his birth.
1 xvin, 42-47. That such a system of society must have had, especially in
the distant past, great advantages is obvious. The Abb6 Dubois points out
that it has been a prime factor in the handing down of the ancient culture
and in establishing various kinds of social restraints upon individual caprice.
In fact, it seems to be the one thing in India for which he has a good word.
I24

HOLY MAN ON THE BENARES GHATS

THE HINDU DHARMA
For not only does caste determine one's privileges and duties;
in large part it determines his occupation as well. To the
Brahmin, indeed, many occupations are open ; but only he may
teach the Veda or act as priest, and as we go down in the social
scale less freedom of choice is permitted. Among the Shudras
most of the subcastes take their names from the hereditary
occupations of their members. Ask one of these men whether
he is a Vaisya or a Shudra and he will say, " I don't know any
thing about that. I'm just a metal-worker, or a carpenter,"
etc. For in a great majority of cases the son is expected to
follow his father's occupation.1
But the negative effect of caste is greater than its positive
effect. One must not marry outside one's caste; one must eat
only certain kinds of food, and food cooked only by certain
people; one must never eat with a man of lower caste than one's
self or receive water from him; one must not cross the ocean.
Even so much as to touch an Outcaste brings contamination.
The result is a spirit of complacent superiority and snobbish
ness on the part of a large number of high-caste people, and of
servility on the part of the Outcastes that probably is not to be
equaled elsewhere in the world./The Outcaste's shadow defiles
a Brahmin. One sees Brahmin children driving away other
children with proud looks and angry words because the latter
had presumed to approach them. And the European himself
as he threads his way through the narrow streets of Benares
will see the crowd of bathers returning from the Ganges care
fully keep their distance from him as they pass, lest his touch
should impart impurity; and if by inadvertence they do touch
him, they will sometimes go back to the river and bathe again
to wash off the defilement. Three years ago in a town in the
Northwest of India a Brahmin child fell into a well. All the
men of the family were away and the women were unable to
1 From this has arisen the misleading idea, so often expressed, that caste
is more a matter of occupation than of descent (cf., for instance, the quite
erroneous impression concerning caste given by Price Collier's The West in
the East). When a caste is named for the occupation of its members, this
does not mean that all its members follow the occupation in question, but
that the majority do. Thus, for instance, a metal-worker might perfectly
well belong to the "Potter" caste. Occupation seems to have more influence
on caste than it really does. 125

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
reach the child. A "sweeper" (one of the lowest of Outcastes)
ran up and offered to go down into the well and rescue the
child, but his services were spurned and the child was allowed
to drown. Better death than the defilement of child and well
by the touch of a sweeper.1
As Farquhar says, these Outcastes, or "Untouchables,"
form one of the largest problems of modern India. "Though
they have lived beside Hindus for more than two thousand
years, so that they have absorbed the spirit of caste and certain
rudimentary religious ideas from Hinduism, yet they have been
treated with such inhumanity that they remain to this day in
the most piteous poverty, dirt, degradation, and superstition.
They are not allowed to live in the same village with Hindus.
They must not approach a high-caste man, for their shadow pol
lutes. In South India they must not come within thirty yards of
a Brahmin; and they are usually denied the use of public wells,
roads, bridges, and ferries. They are not allowed to enter Hindu
temples. Their religion is in the main an attempt to pacify
demons and evil spirits. They number some fifty millions."3
The system, though it may seem to be, made for the benefit
of the higher castes, works its very unfortunate limitations
among them as well. Thus the absurd prohibition against in
terdining is increasingly felt among intelligent men; and the
taboo against crossing the ocean is a direct blow at education
and culture. In the larger centers some of these taboos are
being relaxed, but in the greater part of India they are care
fully enforced by the caste authorities. A man may believe
what he likes, he may deny all the gods and indulge in certain
vices and crimes, and still retain his good standing in the caste;
but let him accept a cup of water from a man of lower caste,
and he shall answer for it before the tribunal. If found guijty
he will do well to undergo all the purificatory ceremonies to
which he will be condemned,3 for if he refuse, the full strength
1 Saint Nihal Singh, " India's Untouchables," Contemporary Review for
March, 1913, p. 376.
2 The Crown of Hinduism, p. 162.
8 These consist usually in the payment of a large fine (commonly appro
priated to defraying the cost of a banquet to all the caste) and in swallowing
a pill prepared by the proper authorities and composed of the " five products
of the cow." The pill is supposed to be spiritually as helpful as it is physi
cally disgusting. 126

THE HINDU DHARMA
of social persecution will burst upon him. His father will turn
him from his house; or if he be himself the head of a house his
relatives will have nothing whatever to do with him; his friends
will "cut" him; and he may even find it hard to induce any one
to work for him — for the different castes sympathize with each
other and aid each other in enforcing caste restrictions.
I wish it were possible for me to say better things of the caste
system than I have been able to say. Sister Nivedita's descrip
tion of it, as being practically equivalent to our conventions
about "honor" and "noblesse oblige," seems to me an astound-
ingly misleading half-truth, which, while it has some basis in
analogy, quite ignores the distinctive features of the system.
Doubtless in primitive times caste had its use; but it is to-day
an inexcusable anachronism which would in fact collapse al
most at once if it were not sanctioned and supported by the
Hindu religion. Fortunately for India its ancient Dharma is
not burdened with many a weight so heavy as this.
The Hindu family is an immeasurably finer institution. In,
it both the beauty and the weakness of the Indian character
and of the whole Indian point of view find themselves reflected
to a striking degree: — and this because in fact, to a very large
extent, they grow out of it. The contrast between the Indian
family and the European is chiefly the contrast between social
solidarity and individualism. The European family is a group
of individuals; the Indian is an organism with various mem
bers. This, of course, is an exaggerated form of statement, but
it suggests the contrast I have in mind. In India the family has
still retained its ancient patriarchal form. When the young
man marries he brings his wife home to his father's house,
where his older brothers and their wives and children are living,
and where every one is subject to the head of the house. So
long as the common progenitor lives, the household is kept
together and is under his sway, the members sometimes num
bering seventy or eighty, or even more. Grandchildren and
great-grandchildren are born in it; cousins are brought up like
brothers; all the women are like mothers to all the children;
each member of the household who earns anything by his labor
puts his earnings into the common fund which is disposed of
by the head of the house for the common good; all interests are
127

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
pooled, and the only real interests to be considered are in the
interests of all. It is evident that children reared in such a
family will receive a very different training from ours and will
grow up with a point of view radically different from that
which the West gives its youth. In such a family there will
be relatively little individual responsibility for any but the
head of the house, relatively little training in independence
and initiative. On the other hand, there will be equally slight
development of the coarser and more selfish aspect of individ
ualism which is perhaps the fundamental danger of our Western
culture. The Indian individual is lost in the family and the
feeling of self and of selfish interests and rights gets but scant
nourishment. And in a sense the whole of Indian society, of
Indian history, of Indian philosophy and religion, is a reflection
of this aspect of the Indian family.
The Indian ideal is that the father should have no will save
the welfare of the family and that all the other members should
have no will as opposed to his. And the family is a unit which
not only is prior to its members, but which includes within it
self the dead as well as the living. In fact the first duty of the
living is to be faithful to the dead. A belief has been handed
down in the Indian family which had its origin long before the
Aryans entered India — a belief, namely, that the fathers who
have gone before are in some way and to some extent dependent
still on the care of their descendants. With this belief has come
the custom of making simple offerings at regular times to the
souls of the departed, a ceremony known as shraddha and re
garded as one of the chief of all religious duties. Only a male
descendant can offer the shraddha rites; hence the importance
of the survival of the family in the male line; and hence also the
prime duty of every man to marry and have a son. A son is a
debt which each man owes his ancestors; and so important is
the fulfillment of this duty that marriage can not be left to the
caprice of the individual, but is a family affair, which the head
of the house must arrange and in which the prospective bride
and bridegroom have only to submit. In India marriage has
nothing to do with falling in love, nothing to do with mutual
passion and individual choice and romantic sentiment. Mar
riage is a religious duty and a religious sacrament, and its aim
128

THE HINDU DHARMA
is not the satisfaction of the individual, but the welfare of the
family as a whole. From this point of view even polygamy is
permitted and sometimes practiced. If after many years of
married life no children are born, the husband may take a sec
ond wife in order to have a son who shall continue the family
name and offer the shraddha rites. This is of rare occurrence,
but the fact that it is regarded as legal or even laudable, and
that it is not infrequently the first wife herself who urges the
second marriage, emphasizes in an extreme form the Indian
view of the family life.
Not only must the son subject his will to the will of his father :
the wife must merge her personality in that of her husband. In
Hindu theory a woman is always subject to somebody — to her
parents before marriage and then to her husband, and if he
should die, to his parents or her own again or to some male
relative. Jaetf-abneijation is perhaps a peculiarly Indian virtue,
and Hindu society seems to have been especially constructed
with a view to developing this virtue in its women. "To learn
how she can offer most," writes Sister Nivedita, "becomes the
aim of the young wife's striving. She cooks for her husband
and serves him, sitting before him as he eats to fan away the
flies. As a disciple might, she prostrates herself before him,
touching his feet with her head before receiving his blessing.
It is not equality. No. But who talks of a vulgar equality, asks
the Hindu wife, when she may have instead the unspeakable
blessedness of offering worship?" l Among the lower classes
the women have considerable liberty, and one sees them in the
streets and markets and working in the fields. But among the
higher ranks of Hindu society the wife is secluded within the
zenana or women's apartments, with her mother-in-law and
her various sisters-in-law. She sees no men but those of her
household, and with all of these but her own husband her rela
tions are most formal, and she knows little of the outer world.
As some one has put it, the windows of an Indian home all open
inward. Moreover, as Indian girls are married at an extremely
early age they have little time for school, and in fact receive but
1 The Web of Indian Life, p. 45. Those who are acquainted with the
condition of Indian women only from books written in criticism of Hindu
ism should read chapters n to vi of The Web.
129

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
slight "book-learning." In the deeper things and the more
practical things of life they are indeed far from "uneducated,"
yet of the larger interests of the world they know but little and
are ill-adapted to be intellectual companions for their husbands
or to guide the mental development of their children.
This narrow and shut-in life has its beauties and its rewards.
Within her home the woman has her own power and her uni
versal respect. On the preceding page I said that in theory a
woman is always subject to some male member of the family.
This is the theory ; but in practice the wife or the mother of the
head of the house (or karta) has as much authority in domes
tic matters as he. This is true even if she happens to be a widow
— as the mother of the karta, of course, always is. She may
consult her son (or husband) if she likes, but there is no rule
about it. And her authority she deserves and earns by constant
devotion to the physical and spiritual interests of the family.
"She superintends if she does not actually do all the cooking,
and her life is one of strenuous activity and self-denial. If she
is the widowed mother of the karta, she lives upon the coarsest
of meals and wears the commonest of raiment. She works from
morning to night. She fasts twice or thrice a month and keeps
vigils for securing the blessings of the gods toward her children,
and, to make assurance doubly sure, commands her daughters
and daughters-in-law to do the same. ... It is her pride to
enforce purity and cleanliness with the utmost rigor. She
bathes and changes her clothes half a dozen times a day. . . .
The house is washed many times a day, and the cooking
utensils undergo the pangs of constant friction. . . . And the
other members of the family must follow her lead in this
respect." l
Perhaps nowhere in the world is there more profound rever
ence for the mother than in India. Here as elsewhere self-
renunciation brings its unsought rewards, and the meek inherit
the earth. This high reverence paid to her is based on her
devotion to her husband, a devotion which Hindu society
insists shall be so complete that if the husband dies the wife
must never even think of marrying again.
"Let her follow the ways and rules of Brahmacharis," says
1 W. J. Wilkins, Modern Hinduism (London, Unwin, 1887), p. 24.
130

THE HINDU DHARMA
Manu of the widow, "improving her soul and her knowledge by
the way of study and service of the elders, in place of the lost
way of service of her husband and children. Let her triumph
over her body and walk in the path of purity. . . . Unto heaven
shall she go to join her partner-soul if she be thus faithful to his
memory and do deeds of good during the rest of her physical
life." x Marriage is for eternity in India, and in the belief of
many a Hindu a faithful and loving husband and wife are re
united in marriage not only in the heaven that follows this life,
but in the earthly reincarnation which shall for them follow
heaven. Before the English came the Hindu widow used to
immolate herself upon her husband's funeral pyre — thus com
pleting in a last glorious act of utter abnegation a life that had
been one long self-surrender. English law put a stop to this cus
tom in 1829, but the result has been the turning of the rest of
the widow's life into a prolonged burning of self. The position
and life of the Indian widow varies, of course, with the person
ality of the woman and with the family in which her lot is cast.
From writers like Dubois one would judge that she is always an
object of heartless persecution, a sad and unwilling drudge;
while Sister Nivedita and her school would have one suppose
that the Hindu widow is ever loved and fondly cared for and
that she becomes a nun given over to good works, which spring
spontaneously from her sorrow-crowned character. Both views
are doubtless true in their limited way, and neither should be
accepted without modification from the other. Certainly the
widow's lot is a sad one at best; and stern Hindu theory be
lieves that it should be sad, that for the widow sadness is better
than joy. And doubtless those widows who acquiesce in this
judgment and give themselves up willingly to a life of utter
self-abnegation and service shine at the end as gold purified
by fire. As the recent quotation from Wilkins shows, the wid
owed mother of the head of the house has a position not only of
respect and affection, but of authority and power. Younger
widows, of course, have no such authority, but they have nearly
as much work, and if the service be not willing much of it must
be performed none the less, and for the young woman who has
1 v, 158-60. Quoted by Bhagavan Das, The Laws of Manu (Benares,
T.P.S., 1910), p. 212. 131

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
no ambition to be a martyr or a nun the fate of widowhood in
India is very hard indeed.
On the whole, the Indian home is a very narrow and limited
place, but it may be a very sweet and holy place as well; and it
has produced a type of woman who knows how to love and how
to suffer and be faithful and lose herself in those she loves: a
type that has great limitations, but which is not without a
certain lofty beauty, — even though at the antipodes from that
of the modern militant suffragette.
The family relations within the Indian home are often very
sweet. The children are commonly idolized and in their earlier
years allowed to have very nearly their own way. "Spoiled"
children are almost the rule. Miss Munson tells of a boy of
eight, chasing his mother and beating her very severely with a
stick because she was late in preparing his dinner. And she
adds: "On the whole I cannot imagine any children less con
trolled than those of India. After the children are grown, how
ever, they show an attractive reverence and dutifulness to the
parents unusual in the West. To marry against the parents'
command, to resent physical punishment, even though the
receiver far exceed the giver in size, or to grumble against the
burden of an aged and childish parent, would be, I should say;
quite foreign to the East Indian." *
The affection of the Indian child or youth, moreover, extends
in very real strength not only to his parents, but to his grand
parents as well, and the relation between distant generations
within the household is often beautiful. Devendranath Tagore
gives in his "Autobiography" a glimpse of his old grandmother
and her Hindu piety and his relation to her as a boy: —
"My grandmother was very fond of me. To me also she was
all in all during the days of my childhood. My sleeping, sitting,
eating, were all at her side. Whenever she went to Kalighat I
used to accompany her. I cried bitterly when she went on pil
grimages to Jaganath and Brindaban leaving me behind. She
was a deeply religious woman. Every day she used to bathe in
the Ganges very early in the morning; and every day she used
to weave garlands of flowers with her own hands for the Slim-
gram. Sometimes she used to take a vow of solar adoration,
1 Jungle Days (New York, Appleton, 1913), p. I58-
132

THE HINDU DHARMA
giving offerings to the sun from sunrise to sunset. On these
occasions I used to be with her on the terrace in the sun. At
other times grandmother used to hold a Vaishnavite festival,
and the whole night there was recitation and singing of hymns,
the noise of which would not let me sleep. She used to look
after the whole household and do much work with her own
hands. Owing to her skill in housekeeping, all domestic con
cerns worked smoothly under her guidance. After everybody
else had taken their meals she would eat, and always food
cooked by herself. She was as lovely in her appearance as she
was skilled in her work and steadfast in her religous faith.
But she had no liking for the frequent visits of the Vaishnavite
priestess. There was a certain freedom of mind in her, together
with her blind faith in religion. I used to accompany her to our
old family house to see the family idol. But I did not like to
leave her and go to the outer apartments. I would sit in her lap
and watch everything quietly from the window." '
The Hindu emphasis on the unselfishness of women would
naturally tend, one would suppose, to have the opposite effect
upon the men. And indeed to some extent it does.2 Yet the
young man as well as the young woman learns to put the com
mon interest of the family before his own and to forget himself
in the larger whole. And beside this general influence Hindu
ism has for him a lifelong training of ritualistic observance
which gives almost every act of his life a religious significance.
In the "good old days" to which almost all intelligent Hin
dus look back with pride and longing, and which they recon
struct in part out of their own imagination, — in the good old
1 Op. cit., pp. 1-2.
2 The Indian man is quite lacking in many of the delicate courtesies
toward women which we of the West regard as an indispensable sign of good-
breeding. In part this is doubtless due to a mere difference of conventions.
But it also goes deeper than that, and is largely the result of the seclusionof
Indian women. The Indian of the upper classes never meets with any ladies
of his own rank outside his own household and hence does not know how to
act with them and has no training in self-control in relation to the other sex.
An English lady who entertains many Oriental college students in her home
near Birmingham tells me she has had to give up inviting Indians because
they do not know how to treat ladies properly. And an Indian friend of mine
says that he fears four out of five young Indians, if left alone with a lady,
would go wrong. Their characters are weak because they have been so
assiduously kept from temptation. 133

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
days when the conditions still existed out of which the Hindu
system developed and which it was meant to meet, — the life
of each male member of the three upper or Aryan castes was
supposed to be divided into four periods, provided, of course,
that one survived to a fairly advanced age. And though not
many Indians to-day complete all the stages of this fourfold
life, it is still the ideal. Infancy and early childhood are not in
cluded in these four stages, and the boy's real life is supposed
to begin at the ceremony of initiation which marks the end of
childhood, — namely, the investiture of the sacred triple cord.
This ceremony has always been regarded as of great impor
tance, signalizing the introduction of the youth into a new life—
the life not of the flesh, which as a child he has been living, but
the life of the spirit. For this reason members of the three
upper castes, who alone are permitted to wear the sacred triple
cord, are known as "the twice-born." The ceremony is per
formed when the boy is between five and nine years of age,1 and
is a very elaborate affair. It requires some three or four days
for its performance and is done with the assistance of many
Brahmins, who on all great occasions are present in large num
bers and must be ceremoniously fed. At this time also the boy
is usually taught the Gayatri, or invocation to the sun, which
is the universal prayer of Hinduism ; or if he belong to some sect
he is given by his guru or religious teacher some secret mantra
which he must learn and a copy of which he must wear on his
arm or around his neck, and which he must never divulge to
others. These mantras are of extreme importance in Hinduism, and
the repetition of them forms the central part of most ceremon
ies. A mantra is a verse, usually taken from the Veda, the mere
repetition of which is supposed to produce supernatural effects.
This idea is evidently the survival of very primitive notions
about magic. Magical formulas, exactly on a par with Hindu
mantras, are to be met with in every ancient and every primi
tive religion. The odd thing is that this childish superstition
should have survived in such strength among men as intelligent
as are many modern Hindus. Most Hindus view the mantras
in the old magical way, while a few — especially those under
1 This is the theory. In practice it is sometimes postponed several years.
134

THE HINDU DHARMA
the influence of the Theosophical Society — seek to justify
the use of mantras by appeal to "modern science." For the
mantras, it seems, produce "vibrations" in the ether which
affect the various sheaths of the soul in various ways. Hence
mantras are of great service in tuning the spirit properly at the
time of initiation and at all the other great turning-points of
life. Once initiated, the boy enters into the first or student stage
of the life of the twice-born, and is known as a brahmachari. In
the old days the youth was now sent away from home to study
the religion and philosophy of his race with some learned and
saintly man in a secluded place, and there he remained till past
twenty, when he returned home to be married to a bride of his
father's choosing. This excellent custom has long since been
given up for the majority, and the practice of marrying off the
boys while still very young has robbed the brahmachari stage
of most of its years and most of its significance.
Marriage is a very important and sacred sacrament for the
Hindu, and like every other turning-point of life is regarded
not as a civil but as a religious act. It also marks the young
man's entrance into the second stage of life, that of the
grlhastha or householder. His duty now is to be an honorable
and useful member of society, to beget sons to carry on the
name of the family and the offerings to the ancestors, and to
act, when the time comes, as the responsible head of the house.
The third ideal stage of life for the twice-born is that of the
vanaprastha, or "forest dweller," as it is usually translated.
This name, however, must not be taken to imply that one who
has entered this stage lives far from the haunts of men. The
ideal is rather that the man whose active work in the world is
done, and whose children are now grown and self-supporting
so that they no longer need his aid, should retire with his wife
from active pursuits, and, living in the outskirts of his village
or city, have leisure for self-culture and for the more general
service of the community through the accumulated wisdom
of his years. Finally, leaving his wife and all his possessions
but a staff and begging-bowl, he should enter the fourth stage,
that of the sannyasi. The ideal for this final stage of life (as an
Indian friend of mine puts it) was that "as an old man one
135

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
should spend one's last years in meditation, and should wander
at will — not as a beggar, but as a revered and welcome guest,
whose presence disseminated goodness and blessing."
The third of these stages has to-day practically ceased to
exist, and though there are a good many sannyasis in India the
fourth stage is far from forming the regular end of the twice-
born's earthly pilgrimage. Hence it will be seen that the
grihastha or householder's condition has steadily encroached
upon the others and constitutes for most twice-born Hindus
to-day almost the whole of life. But the life of the ideal house-
FTiolder is by no means only a worldly affair. The faithful Hindu,
1 to whatever stage of life he belongs, is constantly reminded that
every day and every hour is sacred, and that the purification
and development of the soul is the chief end of man. When he
awakes in the morning his first thought must be a prayer, and
an elaborate ritual is mapped out for him which, if carried out
completely, would leave little opportunity in his whole day for
anything else.1 Not many Hindus to-day perform all the rites
recommended; but all of them are very faithful in observing
the sacred bathings which their religion commands, and most
of them offer at least a few of the prayers and pious observances
which form so important a part of their sacred Dharma. To
Hinduism cleanliness is not next to godliness: it is a very part of
godliness. The morning bath is a form of prayer and it must be
performed not hastily nor thoughtlessly, but seriously, soberly,
and with the proper prayers and meditations. For the bath
should be spiritual as well as physical; the Hindu seeks to begin
the day with a pure body and also a pure soul. In theory, the
bath should if possible be performed in the Ganges or some
sacred body of water; if this be inconvenient the domestic basin
will do, but one's mind should be fixed upon the waters of the
sacred stream. Various prayers and meditations are recom
mended for use before, during, and after the bath, together
with the repetition of various divine names, reading from the
Sacred Scripture, breathing exercises, the placing of the fingers
in various positions, libations of water, etc. Some of these pray
ers sound to us extremely formal and some even absurd, while
1 For a minute account of this entire programme see Dubois, op. cit.,
part II, chap. VII. 136

THE HINDU DHARMA
others are petitions of a genuinely moral sort.1 A surprisingly
large number of Hindus are faithful to the often irrational
minutiae of this ritual ; while nearly all observe, together with
their bath, the recitation of the Gayatri and meditation on the
mysterious and divine syllable Aum or Om. The Gayatri, as I
have said, is an invocation to the sun and is the most universal
and sacred form of prayer in India.2 The following is a transla
tion of it: — "Aum, earth, sky, heaven, Aum. Let us meditate
upon that excellent vivifier, the Light Divine, which enlightens
our understanding!" This Vedic verse (which every good
Hindu should repeat from eight to several hundred times a day)
is held to contain, if rightly interpreted, the essence of all
true religion and philosophy. And as the Gayatri is the quint
essence of religious philosophy, so is the syllable AUM the
quintessence of the Gayatri. It is a symbol, in short, for all
that the Hindu believes concerning God and the soul, and as
such the repetition of it, together with the repetition of the
Gayatri, is well adapted to raise his thoughts to the highest:
plane and to put him into the devotional state of mind. Prot^)
estant Christians may perhaps fail to understand this; but the
Catholic Church has long acted upon the principle that the
repetition of certain familiar words may be of assistance to the
mind in meditating upon themes which, though not literally
expressed by the words, have become closely associated with
them through many past repetitions. Witness the constant
use of the Rosary, and the real devotion which it often is a
means of arousing and sustaining. There can be no doubt that
though the Gayatri and the syllable Aum are often repeated by
Hindus in a purely formal and mechanical manner, with many
a pious soul they have the same religious value that the Rosary
has with the good Catholic.
After the morning bath and morning prayer, <there is a long
list of ceremonies for the Hindu to perform during the rest of
1 For many samples of them see Dubois, loc. cit.
* It is usually said as a prayer to the Deva Surya, the sun god, and one
should stand facing the sun while repeating it. Some, and especially the
more philosophical, do not regard the Gayatri as a prayer, but as a form of
meditation on the ultimate and impersonal Reality. Some, in repeating it,
seek to absorb part of the physical and ethereal radiance that comes from
the Lord of Day. 137

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
the day if he has the time and the devotion; and all but the
more lax perform at least the household puja before each meal.
And when night comes, the day ends with a prayer as it began.
And life is like the day. It begins with the rites of religion at
birth. Each of its greater and lesser turning-points is sanctified
bV some religious ceremony. And when the man dies his body
is religiously burned, and if possible his ashes are thrown into
the Ganges or some other sacred stream — the funeral cere
monies and offerings to his spirit being continued usually for
ten days. The last act in his drama is in a sense an endless one:
for it is the shraddha offering, which his son begins for his spe
cial benefit two or three weeks after his death, and which is con
tinued for him and for all the dead of the family at regular
intervals as long as the family is represented by a male de
scendant upon earth. These shraddha rites consist chiefly in the
offering of rice-balls to the dead, with the repetition of the suit
able mantras, the ceremony ending, as most religious ceremonies
end in India, with the feeding of Brahmins. The conception is
that the funeral rites will help the departed onward from the
ghost world (preta loka) to the heaven of the fathers (pitriloka) ;
while the rice-balls and offerings of the shraddha ceremony
will develop and support him there and acquire merit which he
may use in his further progress. Very evidently we have here
the remains of at least two quite different concepts, the ani
mistic idea of the ghost which must be fed, and the large, moral
conception of transmigration. The former of these goes back
to extremely primitive times, and is quite out of keeping with
the more philosophic Hindu conceptions which are many
thousand years younger than it. And in this respect shraddha
is very properly Hindu; for the ritual as well as the creed of
Hinduism includes all manner of contradictory elements, the
primitive, animistic, and magical existing alongside of elements
full of spiritual symbolism. And so the whole of the Hindu's
life is punctuated with nonsense or with philosophy, according
as he takes it. The spiritual man, by making the most of what
he finds, and reading into it a good deal of symbolism (often
justified by good taste rather than by history), is able to get
from the religious observances of the Hindu Dharma much
genuinely religious nourishment for the spiritual life; while the
138

THE HINDU DHARMA
rank and file of Hindus, who (like the rank and file in some
other places) are likely to think that they shall be heard for
their much speaking, find in the observances of tradition cer
tain fortunate formulas and lucky acts which are magical
short-cuts to all sorts of desirable goals, and which, instead of
being incentives to moral endeavor, may often be regarded as
substitutes for it. Unto the pure all things are pure, and Hindu
worship, like other worships, depends on the worshiper.
And yet this much must be said : that the life of the Hindu is
essentially a religious life. By this I do not mean that it is a
superstitious life or one filled with pious performances. It is
that, but it is more than that. It is a life lived in conscious and
constant recognition of a wider environment than the merely
immediate and physical; and in unfailing realization of relations
that bind human life to a supernatural world. We may smile at
the particular rites by which the Hindu expresses his attitude
toward Reality ; but the attitude itself must command the re
spect of every one who respects humanity at all. The Hindu
believes that humanity's really significant environment is a
spiritual environment ; that the physical world about us is only
the garment through which the spiritual Reality dimly shines;
and that the one important question is the eternal destiny of
the soul. And the Hindu sees in his Dharma a system of train
ing for the spirit in its fateful struggle with a world of matter,
by the aid of which it may win its freedom and come to its own
at last. Many, indeed, — perhaps most, — see this but dimly;
but in the background it is always there. And underneath all
the strange noises of Hinduism, like the distant murmur of the
sea, there sounds ever the far-off music of the soul.

CHAPTER VIII
TEACHERS, PRIESTS, AND HOLY MEN
ONE'S opinion of the value of Hindu education will depend
largely on one's notions of the nature of education in gen
eral. As to book-learning, there is certainly little enough of it
in India. Yet fortunately there still remains a goodly share of
that training and culture through example and tradition which,
in the ancient world at any rate, often made cultured men of
the illiterate. The Indian child in a conservative and pious
Hindu family absorbs, with his mother's milk and with the air
he breathes, the ancient customs of his country, its ideals and
its moral practices and religious views. He is brought up in an
atmosphere of worship and faith and of dignified and courteous
manners; and courtesy, faith, and worship thus become his
second nature. Even of philosophy he acquires an elementary
knowledge, quite as a matter of course.1 Naturally everything
here depends on family customs and local traditions; and
among the lower castes, where Hinduism is at its weakest and
its worst, the training of the children is correspondingly neg
lected, and the effect of example and influence may be posi
tively harmful.
Of explicit religious teaching there is less than one would
perhaps expect, and among the lower classes, in fact, hardly
any. The more careful Brahmin fathers of the old school teach
their sons a little Sanskrit, and many give their boys a some
what careful religious education. The priest comes regularly
to the house, and has the boys commit to memory certain
passages from some of the Sacred Books, such as the Maha-
bharata, and also teaches them to perform certain ceremonies.
Some fathers send their sons to Sanskrit schools. These
schools are as a rule simply small and informal classes held
1 Dr. Taraporewalla, of the Central Hindu College, estimates that per
haps ten per cent of the Hindus understand something of the philosophy of
Hinduism. 140

TEACHERS, PRIESTS, AND HOLY MEN
in some monastery by some learned monk. In recent years,
however, a few large schools, for boarders as well as day-
scholars, have been started by Hindu reformers, in which the
boys receive a good modern education with Sanskrit and reli
gious instruction as optional or required subjects. Most fathers
belonging to the lower classes, and even the majority of the
"twiceborn," do not take the trouble to send their sons to reli
gious schools, and bring them up quite ignorant of Sanskrit.
Many Brahmin fathers who know no Sanskrit themselves are
careful to teach their sons a few Sanskrit prayers (including of
course the Gayatri), and train them to repeat these twice a day.
But in the majority of cases the son is never taught the meaning
of these prayers, which therefore remain to him, to the end of
his days, hardly more than unintelligible syllables with a pious
sound, — in spite of which he continues to repeat them scrupu
lously, as his father did before him. The great majority of
Hindu fathers, if we count in the lower classes, do not teach
their children even these few Sanskrit prayers. A very large
proportion 1 of Hindu children thus grow up without any sys
tematic and explicit religious teaching whatever, incidentally,
of course, they pick up more or less from the conversation and
the example of those around them. They see their father or
grandfather do puja for the whole family in the home and they
watch all the members of the household bow before the shrine,
and by the unescapable force of imitation they are constrained
to follow their example. They see people going to the temples
and they may wander in themselves and watch them doing
puja there, and again they may follow the example. But they
are not made to go to the temples, nor taught how to worship.
If they learn to read their own language they will probably
sometimes dip into the Gita or into Tulsi Das's Ramayana, —
the favorite religious books of India; and even if they cannot
read they will inevitably hear the storyof Rama aniLSita and
learn from it the ideals of patience, endurance, loyal friendship,
and devotion which India loves. Then occasionally — very
occasionally — strolling preachers come to the village or stop
on the city street, and read from the books mentioned, or from
1 A prominent and learned pundit of my acquaintance places the figure
at roughly ninety-nine per cent. 141

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
one of the Puranas. And of course it is impossible to live
among Hindus and not learn something of Shiva, Vishnu, and
the other gods. Thus what one might call a working knowledge
of the Hindu religion is appropriated and assimilated by even
the ignorant, though as a matter of course it is seldom the
best of Hinduism and often the worst that is learned in this
haphazard way. One learns to go through certain ceremonies
without knowing — without even asking — the reason why.
The inner significance, if such there be, is thus quite lost. And
instead of being taught the finer side of Indian thought, the
average Hindu, especially of the lower classes, usually gets
hold chiefly of a number of silly stories and a considerable
amount of harmful superstitions.
That small section of Hindu society which has come under
the influence of Western thought, though freed from supersti
tions and meaningless ceremonies, is not much better off so far
as religious education is concerned than are the ignorant lower
.classes. Most of these educated Hindus have turned away from
the religion of their fathers without getting anything religious
in its place. They teach their children English and chemistry
instead of the truths of the ancient Dharma; and as for prayers,
their children say none of them whether in Sanskrit or in any
other tongue.1
The child's first religious instructor is his father, and in most
cases instruction ends there. Yet many careful fathers place
their children under the guidance of a guru, or professional reli
gious teacher; and many a man and woman retain the services of
a guru as a kind of father-confessor to the end of life. The gurus
of the past must have been a very reverend and noble company
if one may judge by the almost universal respect which the title
guru still carries with it. The Vedanta Sara describes the ideal
guru thus : —
1 " Nine out of every ten of the Hindus to-day who are coming out of the
schools and colleges may be said never, from morning to night, from week to
week, and from year to year, to trouble themselves with the thought of God
or of religion." "The Hindus of the present day seem to be fast losing the
spiritual-mindedness of their forefathers. . . . That magnificent unworld-
liness of the Hindu, that high appreciation of the value of life, that unique
example of plain living and high thinking, has become rare to-day." (Hem
Chandra Sarkar in the American Journal of Theology, October, 1909.)
142

TEACHERS, PRIESTS, AND HOLY MEN
"A true guru is a man who is in the habit of practicing all the
virtues; who with the sword of wisdom has lopped off all the
branches and torn out all the roots of sin, and has dispersed
with the light of reason the thick shadows in which sin is
shrouded; who behaves with dignity and independence; who
has the feelings of a father for all his disciples ; who makes no
difference in his conduct between his friends and his enemies,
and shows equal kindness to both ; who looks on gold and pre
cious stones with the same indifference as on pieces of iron or
potsherd, and values the one as highly as the other; whose chief
care is to enlighten the ignorance in which the rest of mankind
is plunged." J
The Abb6 Dubois, from whom I take this quotation, com*
ments upon it thus: "This is what the Hindu gurus ought to be,
but are not." And he proceeds to devote a chapter to the igno
rance, immorality, and mercenary nature of all the gurus in
India. As usual, the truth seems to lie somewhere between the
two extremes. The almost passionate reverence which is still
felt in many parts of India for the guru is hardly explicable if
all teachers of religion are as depraved as the good abbe would
have us believe. Many of them at least are not lazy. Gurus
belonging to the two great sects and those teaching some form
of yoga are particularly active, some even carrying their teach
ing and their puja to the homes of outcastes. Enthusiastic fol
lowers of yogins and spiritual reformers not infrequently turn
guru and carry the new spiritual teaching over a wide area. Dr.
Clough, the missionary to the Telugus, found as his right-hand
man an outcaste who had been taught yoga by a woman guru,
and had himself become a guru in his turn, teaching the doc
trine he had learned from her. He afterwards became an enthu
siastic Christian preacher, but Dr. Clough says "there was little
in his [former] teaching which he afterwards had to contradict
as evil." In fact, not only this man, but nearly all Dr. Clough's
most reliable native preachers, had either been Hindu gurus
themselves or had got their first real religious training from
gurus of the Raja Yoga. " Sitting at the feet of Raja Yoga
Gurus," says the good doctor, "even though many of them
were worthless, had been a rich experience to them which they
1 Quoted by the Abbe Dubois, op. cit., p. 123.
143

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
would not willingly have missed out of their lives." l And the
entire district seems to have been prepared for Christianity in a
very real and valuable sense by the previous labors of these
Hindu teachers.
Yet gurus of this finer sort are decided exceptions, and the
influence of the class as a whole is rather slight, owing to the fact
that so many of them visit their disciples but once a year. On the
whole there can be little doubt that " the true guru," in India,
is very hard to find ; and that most of the professional Brah
min teachers, who supply the young with mantras and give
advice on religious matters, are "not in business for their
health," but make a good living off the credulity of their flock,
and in moral matters are no better than they should be.
Govinda Das writes : " Puranic preachers and innumerable sec
tarian sadhus, bairagis, etc., are mostly reactionaries of a bad
type, catering to the passions and prejudices of the mob for
the purpose of exploiting them." 2 Another Hindu writes:
"Both the guru and the priest vie with each other in igno
rance and conceit. Both are covetous, unprincipled, and up to
every vice; but the guru is much more revered than his adver
sary, owing to the former being a less frequent visitor, and
the speculative and mysterious nature of his avocations." a
In some sects the guru need not be a Brahmin; but the priest
must. All priests are Brahmins, though by no means all Brah
mins are priests. Those that go into the priesthood in fact —
strange as it may seem to us — are the least respected mem
bers of their caste. The name "Brahmin" is still a word to
conjure with in India, but when coupled with the word
" priest," it loses much of its glory. This at least is true in the
more intelligent circles, while the Indian villager, still sunk
deep in superstition, sometimes regards the priest as possessed
of magic and supernatural powers which make him an object of
admiration and awe. The more able members of the caste
(especially in the cities) go into professions where more money
and greener laurels are to be won than in the priesthood. It is
1 Social Christianity in ike Orient (New York, Macmillan, 1914), pp. 94
and 197.
2 Hinduism and India, p. xiv.
» Quoted from The Hindu Family in Bengal, by Wilkins, op. cit., p. 3°-
144

TEACHERS, PRIESTS, AND HOLY MEN
usually the less progressive individuals who are content to go
into the temple business. And not every priest has a temple,
though every temple has a priest and sometimes many. But
there is plenty of work to be done outside the temples — paint
ing the sacred marks of sect and caste upon the foreheads of
the faithful, giving instruction to them, performing the various
domestic ceremonies to which reference has been made in the
previous chapter, and attending ceremonies where other Brah
min priests preside, but where all Brahmins are fed. Many of
the temple priests hold their office by hereditary right. Espe
cially is this the case with the larger temples, where a number of
priests are employed. These temples often are richly endowed,
owning large tracts of land from the income of which the priests
are supported and the expenses of the temple service are de
frayed. One of the priests of the Kalighat temple in Calcutta
told me that at his place of business there were about a dozen
hereditary priests, and that they took turns in doing the public
puja, each one serving two or three days a month, and seeing
to the distribution of food to the beggars — for every day at
the temple beggars are fed and clothed. The rest of his time,
so far as I could make out, was given in part to teaching
young men out of the Tantras, but chiefly to loafing. A zealous
Hindu whom I met in the Madura temple described the forty
hereditary priests of that great shrine as "ignorant, glutton
ous, and lazy." The (Hindu) translators of the Garuda Purana
in their Introduction write thus of the way in which the
priests use their influence over the people : —
"The after-life consequences of minor sins can be warded off
by appropriate penances. And here is a rich field which the
Brahmin priestcraft of India, preying on the gullibility of its
votaries, has exploited to its extreme extent. For every sin
there is a penance and also a pilgrimage, with its concomitant
result in the shape of so much fee to be paid to the Brahmins.
Penances have become a farce in modern India. They can be
compounded by the payment of amounts ranging from a cowrie
shell to thousands of rupees to Brahmins. It is not that the
gifts to a deserving man wash away sin, for modern Hinduism
has done everything in its power to throw in the background
that rational idea, but a gift to a Brahmin, however bad he may
145

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
be, — as the saying goes that no one feeds a docile monkey, but
a kicking cow for the sake of her milk."
In short, the Brahmin priest has a very bad name in India.
I do not remember hearing a good word spoken for any of the
class except by priests themselves. In Benares their reputation
is exceedingly evil. Indian gentlemen in that city told me that
the temples were sometimes brothels, and that the priests were
not only dishonest and corrupt, but not uncommonly misused
the confidence which Hindu women placed in them to deceive
and betray them. In southern India conditions seem to be even
worse than in the north. For in the large southern temples
women as well as men are employed in the cult. There are two
classes of these women : — nautch girls who dance before the
god, and the wives of the god, — girls who in infancy have been
given by their parents in marriage to the deity. I hardly need
add that both these classes of women are in fact religious pros
titutes, and that when a girl becomes the wife of a god, the
deity is in fact represented by his faithful priests.1
Fortunately for India, the Brahmin priest is not really repre
sentative of her religious life. Much more genuinely typical as
well as much more deeply religious is that characteristically
Indian figure, the sannyasi,2 the "renouncer." For the word is
used here to include not only those who having completed the
householder stage have entered into the final stage of the ideal
life, but also all those who from whatever cause and at what
ever age have turned their back upon home and renounced the
world in order to devote all their energies to the attainment of
what they deemed a higher goal.
1 Even worse accusations than these are made against the priests in parts
of southern India. See Dubois, op. cit., part in, chap, iv, especially pp.
593-96. 2 The word "sannyasi" is commonly used with a variety of meanings of
which the following are the more important: (1) "renouncer" (its literal
meaning) ; (2) one who has entered upon the fourth stage of the ideal life of
the twice-born; (3) a member of some one of the Hindu monastic orders;
(4) the term is sometimes limited so as to apply only to members of certain
orders, e.g., the more strict orders founded by Shankara and by Ramanuja,
or sometimes only the former. The word "sadhu" is used almost synony
mously with sannyasi. This word means originally "good" or "religious."
It is also sometimes used to include all "renouncers" and is sometimes re
stricted to mean only the members of certain orders, such as the Vaishnava
orders or the less strict orders of Shankara.
146

BRAHMIN PRIEST

TEACHERS, PRIESTS, AND HOLY MEN
World renunciation is a phenomenon of long standing in
India and its aim has been twofold: (i) to attain by a solitary
life and by methods of penance certain magical powers over
nature, man, and the gods; (2) to conquer the flesh and purify
the soul. The history of the movement shows a parallel gain
and loss. For the second of the aims just mentioned has
steadily gained in popularity upon the first, the thought of
magical power playing ever a smaller part in comparison with
the aim of freeing the spirit from the flesh and uniting it with
the divine; while, on the other hand, under the cloak of the true
sannyasi have taken shelter increasing crowds of lazy and irre
ligious beggars who have jumped at the opportunity of living
off the community by assuming the garments of the pious.
This factor of laziness formed no part of the ideal as originally
conceived and as practiced for many centuries in India. The
sannyasi was to be inactive, yes ; but only because activity was
conceived as binding the soul to this world. And his outer inac
tivity covered a very active inner life, a life so far removed from
one of selfish laziness that it was marked at every moment by
genuine renunciation.
The sannyasi, as India understands the ideal, should prize
the spiritual life so highly that everything else seems to him bui
dross. His every moment must be given up to systematic self-
training by which all the old ties may be broken and all the
world's inverted values be turned upside down again. He
must give up home and family and friends and possessions and
wander out to live alone, or in a company of other renouncers
like himself. He must beg his meals and so be dependent upon
the charity of others for his very life. He must own nothing but
his yellow robe, his staff and bowl, perhaps a few very simple
utensils, a rosary for his prayers, and one or two symbolic reli
gious objects corresponding to the crucifix of Christian monks.
Sometimes he will wear in place of the yellow robe only a loin
cloth, or sometimes nothing at all — for in India nakedness is a
token that one has learned so to despise the body that he has
almost forgotten its existence. To it and to all the pleasures of
life he must study indifference. Indifference is one of his great
est virtues, for it is the negative side of that positive searching
after God, that realization of the divine within himself which is
H7

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
his one great business. The ideal set up for him is thus expressed
in the ancient Scriptures : —
"Let him not wish for death, let him not wish for life, let him
wait for the time, as a servant for his wages. . . . Let him en
dure harsh language, and let him not insult any one; nor relying
on his body let him make an enemy of any one. Let him not
return anger to the angry, let him bless when cursed. . . .
Rejoicing in the Supreme Self, sitting indifferent, refraining
from sensual delights, with himself for his only friend, let him
wander here on earth, aiming at liberation." !
The ideal sannyasi, however, though freed from particular
ties, is in one sense every one's friend, for he sees in all the One
Self, without barrier between, and he feels their sufferings as
his own. It is related of Pundit Bijoy Krishna Goswami, who
died only a few years ago, that "to see any keen human suffer
ing was, for him, to have it directly transferred to his own sensa
tions. One wintry morning he was sitting facing the public road
when all of a sudden he seemed to take ill with a severe fit of
shivering. His people did not know what it meant or what to
do. A disciple, however, noticed that his eyes were fixed on a
decrepit old beggar seated on the footpath on the other side of
the public road, who was shivering in all his bare limbs at the
touch of the sharp and frosty morning breeze. He at once took
the heavy blankets that covered the master's body, and run
ning out to the street, put them around the old beggar. As soon
as this was done, the master came back to himself and all his
shivering ceased." 2
Let me point out, in passing, that this very typical story
illustrates that in which the holy man of India falls short as
well as that in which he excels. The Pundit appears to have felt
the beggar's suffering more keenly than a Christian saint would
have done; and yet it seems never to have occurred to him to
throw his blankets over the poor fellow. For aught the story
shows, had it not been for the disciple's desire to stop his mas
ter's shivering fit, both masterajid beggar would have con
tinued to shiver on indefinitely .JThe truth is the sannyasins as
a class have never been characterized by any great eagerness to
1 Laws of Manu, VI, 45, 47, 48, 49.
1 Bipin Chandra Pal, op. cit., pp. 56-57.
148

TEACHERS, PRIESTS, AND HOLY MEN
serve their fellows. In fact a life of active helpfulness is no part
of the sannyasi ideal, for inactivity in externals is one of the
things that he must carefully practice. His life is one of in
wardness almost exclusivelyj Its aims and its struggles and its
victories are all subjective. This is its weakness and this should
be plainly recognized and understood. Once seen, however, it
should not blind us to the finer side of the sannyasi ideal, — the
victory of the spirit over the flesh, the purifying and the train
ing of the soul, the power to see the Divine under the meanest
of disguises.
Ramakrishna once said to his disciples : —
" I have now come to a stage of realization in which I see that
God is walking in every human form and manifesting Himself
alike through the sage and the sinner, the virtuous and the
vicious. Therefore when I meet different people, I say to my
self: ' God in the form of the saint, God in the form of the sinner,
God in the form of the unrighteous, and God in the form of
the righteous.' He who has attained to such realization goes
beyond good and evil, above virtue and vice, and realizes that
the divine will is working everywhere.
"There was a Hindu monastery in a certain village. The
monks of the monastery went out every day with begging-
bowls to gather food. One day a monk, passing by, saw a
Zemindar severely beating a poor man. The holy man, being
very kindhearted, entreated the Zemindar to stop beating the
man. The Zemindar, blind with rage, immediately turned on
the monk and poured upon him the venom of his anger. He
beat him until he was knocked unconscious on the ground.
Another man, seeing his condition, went to the monastery and
told what had happened. His brother monks ran to the spot
where the holy man was lying. They lifted him and brought
him to the monastery and laid him in a room; but the holy man
still remained unconscious. His brothers fanned him, bathed
his face, put milk into his mouth, and tried to nurse him back
to life. Gradually they brought him back to consciousness.
The holy man opened his eyes and looked at his fellow brethren.
One of them, desiring to know whether he could recognize his
friends, asked him in a loud voice: 'Maharaj, dost thou recog
nize him who is feeding thee with milk?' The holy man an-
149

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
swered in a feeble voice: 'Brother, he who beat me is now
feeding me.' " *
During the Indian Mutiny the British troops sacked a town
in which dwelt a sannyasi who for years had maintained the
vow of silence. In the madness of battle the English soldier
who came upon him did not stop to distinguish between this
innocent and revered ascetic and the rebellious sepoys, so
pierced his heart with the bayonet. As the cold steel entered
his quivering flesh the old saint broke his silence of half a life
time to say to his murderer, " And thou also art divine." 2
In his training of the soul the sannyasi often makes use of
asceticism. Asceticism is a subject upon which the Western
world, and particularly the Protestant Western world, has
made up its mind very definitely, and concerning which it is
ready to say the last word, with the glib certainty that usually
accompanies "snap judgments." If you want to know the
value of asceticism the modern West will tell you that it is all
foolishness; — and it knows because it has never tried it. The
East has tried it and it does not think it all foolishness; and
there was a time when the West agreed with the East. No one
can deny that there is a kind of asceticism which is worse than
folly, a self-torture which is madness and sin; but there are
degrees of deliberate and arbitrary self-denial which some of the
wisest men of all ages have found of no little help in the struggle
of the spirit to free itself from the lesser goods of this distracting
world. This was a secret known to the Protestant Puritan no
less than to the Catholic monk. As a French writer has put it,
"Who says ascetic says athlete." It is in this sense that the
ideal sannyasi makes use of ascetic practices. He would be an
athlete of the spirit, and with this great end in view he cuts all
the ties that bind his progress and deliberately denies himself
and crucifies the flesh with the affections and lusts.
The more earnest sannyasins use other means still for attain
ing the desired end. Some make use of psycho-physical meth
ods, known as "yoga," devised these many centuries back for
the purpose of attaining the desired mental state in which the
One Self is realized. This "superconscious state," as they call
1 The Gospel of Ramakrishna, pp. 88-89.
* A story quoted in several places by Sister Nivedita from Vivekananda.
150

TEACHERS, PRIESTS, AND HOLY MEN
it, is known as "samadhi," and those who have attained to it
assure us on their return that in it they have perceived that
subject and object are one and that all multiplicity is illusion.
With many yogins this trance state is a kind of self-hypnosis —
a species of indulgence; with others it comes spontaneously.
With the more spiritual it is a truly religious experience; being
in fact the same thing as the trances of the mediaeval Christian
mystics. Ramakrishna, who often experienced it, speaks of it
and its attainment thus : —
"Divine Love is the rarest thing in the world. He who can
love God as a devoted wife loves her husband attains to Divine
Love. Pure Love is difficult to acquire. In pure love the whole
heart and soul must be absorbed in God. Then will come ec
stasy. In ecstasy a man remains dumb with wonder, outward
breathing stops entirely, but inward breathing continues; as
when aiming a gun, a man remains speechless and without
breathing. In Divine Love one entirely forgets the external
world with all its charms and attractions; even one's own body
which is so dear to one is easily forgotten. In ecstasy, when the
breathing stops, the whole mind remains absolutely fixed upon
the Supreme. All nerve currents run upward with tremendous
force, and the result is samadhi or God-consciousness." 1
It is, of course, only the greater saints — the "Paramaham-
sas " or " Mahatmans " as the Hindus call them — who attain to
this supreme experience. But though sainthood is not common,
even in India, there are a few in almost every generation upon
whom this glorious title is by common consent conferred. Max
Miiller 2 (relying chiefly on Keshub Chunder Sen) mentions six
contemporaries of his who were commonly regarded in India as
"Mahatmans" or "Paramahamsas." One of these was, of
course, Ramakrishna, whom I have so often mentioned, and
whose disciples describe the Indian ideal of sainthood in the
following words : —
"A real Mahatman as described in the Bhagavad Gita (chap
ter vii, verse 19) is one who, having realized the Absolute,
perceives the Divine Being in all animate and inanimate ob
jects of the universe. His heart and soul never turn away from
1 op. at., pp. 74-75.
J Ramakrishna; His Life and Sayings, pp. 12, 23.
151

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
God. He lives in God-consciousness, and Divine qualities con
stantly flow through his soul. He cares neither for fame nor
power nor worldly prosperity. A true Mahatman has no at
tachment to His body or to sense pleasures; He is a living God;
He is absolutely free and His inner nature is illumined by the
self-effulgent light of Divine Wisdom and His heart is over
flowing with Divine Love. His soul becomes the playground
of the Almighty, His body and mind become the instrument
of the Divine Will. And Bhagavan Sri Ramakrishna was such
a real Mahatman." x
Another of these recent Mahatmans was Devendranath
Tagore, of whom Mr. Shastri writes as follows: "His nature
was essentially spiritual. Communion with the Supreme was
the key to his whole being; he lived in that atmosphere; he saw
life from that standpoint; he drew all his inspiration of duty
from it, and cherished it above all earthly possessions. ... In
spite of his real sainthood he never put on the garb or habit of a
sadhu or saint. His piety was natural, habitual, modest. He
hated and shunned all display of saintliness. His piety was best
manifested in an habitual sense of Divine presence, in strict
moral integrity, and in the punctual performance of even the
minutest duties of domestic and social life. Though shunning
mendicancy, he was not less devoted to his religious exercises
than any mendicant. Habitual communion with God was his
daily practice. Every morning his first duty was to chant pas
sages from the Vedas and Upanishads and to give some time in
thanksgiving and prayer. He would spend days and months on
hilltops and other solitary places in earnest meditation, either
communing with the Supreme Spirit or feeding his spiritual
nature with the study of the teachings of great spiritual
masters." Though Devendranath Tagore had his trials and at times
was subject to sharp criticism from former friends for doing
what seemed to him his duty, — and a painful duty it some
times was, — the sweetness and light which seem to have been
his abiding characteristic did not desert him. "He never de
scended to the level of his critics or maligners; but calmly bore
all and viewed all questions from a spiritual standpoint. . . .
1 The Gospel of Ramakrishna, pp. 5-6.
152

TEACHERS, PRIESTS, AND HOLY MEN
What people said about him was of secondary importance to
him; what he really was he thought to be his prime concern.
Therein lay his strength and his repose. That calm and undis
turbed sincerity of mind he maintained in the midst of all vicis
situdes of life. He was a true and living embodiment of that
teaching of the Gita where it is said : ' A truly wise man is never
buffeted by his trials and tribulations, does not covet pleasures,
and is free from attachment, fear, and anger.' " J
Some of these " great souls " of India find the joy of the Lord
so intense that they quite forget the needs of their fellows.
They say but little about their own supreme experiences, for
they have reached the great silence. In others, as the above
quotations suggest, divine love so fills the heart that it over
flows on those around. Says Ramakrishna : —
"The bee buzzes so long as it is outside the lotus and does not
settle down in its heart to drink of its honey. As soon as it
tastes of the honey all buzzing is at an end. Similarly all noise
of discussion ceases when the soul of the neophyte begins to
drink the nectar of Divine Love in the Lotus Feet of the Al
mighty. Sometimes, however, the bee after being intoxicated
by the honey makes a sweet humming sound. So the God-
intoxicated soul sometimes speaks for the good of others." 2
Samadhi is a goal seldom reached or even striven for to-day;
in fact it has never been common and goeth not forth save by
fasting and prayer. But the chief exercise of the earnest san
nyasi is meditation. Doubtless for the great majority of India's
"holy men" to-day meditation means merely a kind of lazy
day-dreaming; yet there are still some, perhaps many, to whom
meditation means a state of the most intense absorption, the
depth of which we Westerners can hardly conceive. It is
related of Swami Vivekananda that he sometimes became so
lost in thought that his body would be black with mosquitoes
without any consciousness on his part of the fact ; and in this he
is only representative of the sannyasi tradition which has had
innumerable examples through the ages. And of course it goes
without saying that the strictest morality is an absolute condi-
1 Shivanath Shastri, History of the Brahmo Samaj, pp. 191, 194. !95. 198,
199. ' Op. cit., p. 111. 153

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
tion for him who would attain to the highest goal.1 In short,
the sannyasi must live not only the simple but also the strenu
ous life. The yellow robe if worn worthily is no garb for the
lazy man.
"He who has not first renounced evil ways, nor is subdued,
nor tranquil, and whose mind is not at rest, even by knowledge
he can never obtain the Self." 2 "Nor is the Atman [the Self]
obtained by the strengthless, nor without earnestness and right
meditation. But if a wise man strives after it by these means,
then his self enters the home of Brahman." 3
There are not many sannyasins to-day who have attained to
the ancient ideal ; but there are many more than the superficial
tourist would suppose who strive after the goal and to some
extent approximate it. From Swami Dayanand's " Autobiog
raphy" one gets a picture of what one might call the under
ground religious life of India fifty years ago, a religious life
which, though it has lost in extent and intensity since his time,
is still a large factor in the India of to-day. In that book we see
sannyasins of the old type hurrying from one end of India to
the other in order to visit some sacred spot or hear the words of
some famous teacher; sannyasins on the mountains, sannyasins
in the jungle, sannyasins wandering on the banks of the Ganges,
reading the Vedas and Puranas, practicing austerities, arguing
with each other over the teachings of the sages and the meaning
of the scriptures, or seeking in solitude to realize the truth of
their own inherent divinity.
Nearly all sannyasins to-day belong to some of the monastic
orders. Of these there are many, the most important of which
were founded by Shankara, or by Ramanuja or one of his fol-
1 One should, however, note that the idea of antinomianism has met with
considerable acceptance in India and is taught in some of the sacred books.
The man who knows Brahman need not trouble himself with moral ques
tions, being beyond them. "The great unborn Self," says the Brihadara-
nyaka Upanishad, "does not become greater by good works nor smaller by
evil works." (iv, 4, 22.) "According to human knowledge," says the Ma-
hanirvana Tantra, "the world appears to be both pure and impure, but
when Brahman-knowledge has been acquired there is no distinction between
pure and impure. For him who knows that Brahman is in all things and
eternal, what is there that can be impure?" (iv, 22-23.)
* Katha Upanishad, I, 11, 24.
• Mundakya Upanishad, in, 11, 4. 154

TEACHERS, PRIESTS, AND HOLY MEN
lowers. Most of these orders, even those founded by Shankara,
are sectarian, — the Shankara ones usually recognizing Shiva
as the chief manifestation of the impersonal Absolute, while
those deriving from Ramanuja pay their devotion to Vishnu in
one of his incarnations. These sannyasi orders as a rule require
their members to take five vows which have been handed down
through centuries of tradition as characteristic of the yellow
robe. The first of these is the vow of ahimsa or harmlessness.
It corresponds to the Sixth Commandment of the Mosaic code,
but is of much wider extent, including within its shelter every
form of sentient life. The Hindu monk must not kill; for all
living beings are bound together in the chain of transmigra
tion and by the common aim of liberation; and the feeling of
universal sympathy which the sannyasi seeks to cultivate
makes him regard the taking of animal life as almost equiva
lent to the murder of a little brother. For this reason also the
sannyasi must not make use of animal food; to do so would
seem to him a form of cannibalism. The second vow of the
sannyasi is against lying, the third against stealing, the fourth
against unchastity (the sannyasi must lead the celibate life),
while the fifth vow pledges him to liberality.1
I made a point, while in Benares, of visiting several monas
teries of these Hindu orders. In plan they resemble to some
extent the monasteries of Christian Europe, though as a rule
they are much simpler and rather less beautiful. One of the
finer examples that I visited was said to be over four hundred
years old, and was hidden away behind two small Shiva tem
ples, and approached by a narrow lane and a flight of steps.
After taking various turns one at last goes through a gateway
and finds one's self in a square court, resembling an Italian clois
ter. In the center of the court stands a large cassia tree, several
banana trees, and a small platform with the base of a lingam, a
Nandi bull, and a few fresh flowers. A number of small rooms
open out of the cloister, but most of the cells of the sannyasins
are on the second and third floors, and open upon galleries
looking down into the court. I went into a number of these
rooms and found them simple to the verge of barrenness: — the
1 The first four of these vows (as we shall see later) are shared by the
Jaina and the Buddhist. In the fifth vow the three religions differ.
155

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
bed a panther's skin or straw mat lying on the cement floor, a
bulge in the cement serving for pillow, a few Sanskrit books
(two or three), and nothing more.
The sannyasins in this monastery are Sanskrit scholars, and
the abbot of another monastery which I visited the same morn
ing is a very learned, as well as pious, man; and both he and his
juniors make use of their learning in teaching Sanskrit to a
class of boys and expounding the Vedanta philosophy to older
students. These monks belonged to one of the Shankara orders,
but I found much the same condition in a monastery of Rama-
nand's order, where the monks not only read from the Gita,
the Brahma Sutras, and the Commentaries of Ramanuja, but
teach a class of little boys. The older of these sannyasins had a
rather fine face and a decidedly pleasing personality. He told
me he had belonged to the order about ten years, and had
joined it because he wanted to die in Benares. He had left his
wife in care of a grown-up son, and had given him plenty of
land, so felt no scruple in renouncing the life of the householder.
He felt sure this was his last incarnation, and at death he ex
pected to go direct to the heaven of Rama for all eternity. For
Rama, he said, was the One God, and was the same as the God
of the Moslems and the God of the Christians — Vishnu,
Shiva, etc., being merely other names for the One Deity.
A less scholarly, but in some respects a more interesting,
group of monks I came upon in a Shankara monastery, which I
was fortunate enough to visit in company with the Reverend
J. J. Johnson — one of the most learned men in India, whose
knowledge of Sanskrit and of Indian thought has won for him
from all the Hindus of the United Provinces the title "Pundit
Johnson." There was no one in the court of the monastery as
we entered, and no one in the small Shiva temple that occupied
the center of it — no one, that is, save the faithful stone Nandi,
kneeling in eternal contemplation and reverence before the
lingam of the "Great God." Soon, however, one of the sannya
sins climbed the flight of steps and made his appearance in the
court. He was dressed in the usual costume of Shankara's
monastic orders — a yellow cloth or skirt tied around the
waist and extending to the knees, another yellow cloth — a
kind of toga — thrown over the shoulder and extending to the
156

TEACHERS, PRIESTS, AND HOLY MEN
feet, and a yellow muffler wrapped around the throat. He was
just returning from his morning bath in the Ganges, and he
carried in one hand a bamboo staff with a yellow bag 1 tied on
its upper end, and in the other hand an earthen water jar. The
jar might have been of wood, but not of brass, as members of
this order must not touch metal. Money also they must not
touch in any form, nor women, nor fire. The simple clothes I
have described, the staff, and two or three earthen or wooden
jars and a rosary of nuts or dried berries are the only posses
sions of these sannyasins. They are permitted to own books,
but the members of this particular monastery have no scholarly
inclinations, and prefer "meditation" to study. They will
accept no members from the Shudra caste, and as a matter of
fact are nearly all Brahmins.
At Mr. Johnson's request, our new acquaintance described
for us his daily life. He rises between four and five, brushes his
teeth, does puja at the shrine, goes to the Ganges for his bath,
and stays on the ghats or near the Golden Temple till eleven or
after. Then he returns to the monastery and in his cell medi
tates upon the mantra given him by his guru at initiation.
About twelve-thirty, he goes out to a Brahmin house where he
is known and there eats his first and only meal of the day, con
sisting chiefly of dhal (a kind of pulse), rice, and vegetables.
His dinner finished, he returns to the monastery and spends the
afternoon saying prayers with his rosary and meditating on his
mantra and other religious subjects. If he has any real errand
during the afternoon he goes upon it; otherwise he remains in
the monastery the rest of the day. He goes to bed at nine.
After finishing this account of the day's work, our friend
pointed to his staff and said, "That is Mahadev," and to his
bowl and said, "That is Brahma." This seemed a bit surprising,
and Mr. Johnson remonstrated: "How can that be Brahma?
It has not four heads, nor four arms. It is not God, it is just a
bowl." To this the sannyasi answered: "Brahma dwells in it
temporarily. But name and form pass," — and so saying he
J In this bag is carried the triple cord of the twice-born which is discarded
when one becomes a sannyasi. The monk described above is an Ekadandi,
i.e., he belongs to one of Shankara's orders and carries a single rod. Rama
nuja's monks carry triple rods. 157

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
seized the bowl (he had only one other) and dashed it upon the
stone platform of the temple. "See!" he said; "its form is
gone, and with that its name : — it is no more a bowl, but a
thousand worthless pieces. So the form of the Great Moguls is
gone and their name is going. Name and form pass, but the
Eternal abides." And so saying our friend climbed the stairs to
his cell to meditate on his mantra.
Another sannyasi now returned from the ghats — a pleasant
old man with a good face all wrinkled from smiling. He said he
was sixty years old and a great-grandfather. Mr. Johnson and
he soon got into a discussion on the Vedanta philosophy, and in
the midst of it a voice was heard from the upper gallery taking
part in the conversation. It was our first friend who was in his
room meditating on his mantra. Presently he rushed down
stairs, — this time dressed only in his loin-cloth, — eager to de
fend the doctrine of Maya against Mr. Johnson's attacks, and
his excited defense of the illusory nature of everything finite
continued till two more monks entered the court, whereupon he
withdrew again to his cell and his mantra.
The two newcomers were unusually simple men and were
induced to tell us (contrary to the custom of most sannyasins)
why they had taken up the religious life. One of them said he
had become a sannyasi because his wife was dead and he had
no children and was lonesome. The other had turned monk be
cause his wife was a scold. His brother had died and he had
taken his brother's child home to live, whereupon his wife got
particularly angry and refused to cook. At last things came to
such a pass that he said to her: "Very well; then I will go to
Benares and enter the religious life!" To which the lady re
sponded that if he felt that way about it he had better go; so
he went. It seems probable that if other sannyasins would talk
as freely we should find that most of them enter the religious
life for equally sensible reasons. The truth is, many of these
Hindu monasteries are Homes for the Aged. They fill exactly
the same place in the Hindu economy which with us is held by
our Homes for Old Men.
While our conversation with these two monks was in progress
our first friend appeared again, this time fully dressed in his
yellow robes, all of them carefully adjusted, his entire forehead
158

TEACHERS, PRIESTS, AND HOLY MEN
and the upper part of his cheeks religiously streaked with the
gray marks of Shiva, made from the ashes of the sacred cow-
dung, and armed to the teeth with staff and bowl — in short,
very obviously dressed in his best and with an air that showed
he regarded his appearance as, on the whole, rather natty. He
was on his way out to pay his one daily call and beg his one
daily meal; — in short, he was going out to dinner!
The majority of the sannyasins within the various recognized
and better orders are at least harmless old men, who, though
not very useful to society, live simple and retired lives; while
some of them are useful as teachers and as real scholars and
thinkers. But outside of these orders are hundreds of thousands
of self-styled "holy men" who have taken up holiness as a busi
ness, and live on the reputation established in previous centu
ries by genuine ' ' renouncers." The external appearance and the
public bearing of their prototype is carefully mimicked by these
self-styled "sadhus" — these "good men"; his simple fare is
ostentatiously simplified, and his costume and accoutrements
imitated and exaggerated. The old sannyasi let his hair grow
long and become matted because he had no time to think of his
appearance. His spurious imitator has no time to think of any
thing else, and wears on his head mingled with his hair huge
masses of matted rope. According to Govinda Das, "The
number of sadhus returned by the census of 1901 is fifty-two
lakhs (5,200,000). Every fellow who is too worthless to be a
good citizen shirks his civil duties and forthwith dons the
ochre-colored robe, thus becoming mukta (' free ') — free to live
in luxury and vice at the expense of his better but more credu
lous fellow citizens." l
These religious beggars and pseudo-ascetics are for the tour
ist the most patent and blatant fact in Hinduism. The show
places of India are full of them. I remember one in Benares
who spends his time running about the ghats in search of tour
ists, carrying a long trumpet which he sounds before him (as
was the custom with his spiritual relatives in Jerusalem nine
teen hundred years ago) to attract attention, and dogging the
steps of every European he can find till the usual baksheesh is
forthcoming. A few years ago a genuine ascetic died — a really
1 Op. cit., p. 178.
159

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
good man I am told — who for years had spent many hours of
each day on the Benares ghats stretched upon a bed of spikes.
In imitation of his example, but with a very different spirit, a
professional holy man, who is not in business for his health,
has had a bed of spikes made and sits upon it often enough
to make a living. I went to see him twice — his headquarters
is above the Pachganga Ghat near the mosque of Aurungzeb
— and both times I had to send for him to come and sit down
on his spikes; for which he knew perfectly well he would re
ceive a consideration.
IThis extreme commercializing of holiness is, of course, in
part a modern phenomenon; but it had its beginnings centuries
back; and thoughtful Hindus have long realized that many of
their "holy men" laid an extreme emphasis on external observ
ances and showy asceticism, thus keeping the outside of the
platter clean and doing nothing toward that training and devel
opment of their souls which alone was worthy of the reverence
they sought to win. The Garuda Purana itself — which in
other sections values certain external observances so highly —
has nothing but contempt for those ascetics (of whom already
in its day there seem to have been great numbers) who seek
to impress the public by their appearance, and regard spirit
ual salvation as something to be won by purely external
methods. The passage (which is too good to leave unquoted)
reads like a page from a modern missionary indictment of
Hinduism : —
"The fools desire to obtain the Invisible by single meals,
fasts, and other restraints, and by the emaciation of the body.
The hypocrites putting on appearances, and wearing quantities
of matted hair and using antelope skins, wander about and
deceive the people. Donkeys walk among people quite naked
and unashamed. Are these free from attachment? If men are
to be liberated by earth, ashes, and dust, does the dog which
always lives among earth and ashes become liberated? The
jackals, rats, deer, and other beasts which feed upon grass,
leaves, and water, and always live in forests — do these become
ascetics? The crocodiles and fish which from birth to death
dwell in the waters of the Ganges — do these become Yogins? " l
1 xvi, 61, 62, 65-68.
160

TEACHERS, PRIESTS, AND HOLY MEN
As this passage shows, we outsiders are not the only ones
who realize how deeply the Indian ideal has been degraded.
None of us, in fact, realize it so fully — and so sadly — as do
the more thoughtful Hindus themselves. One of them said to
me: "The noble ancient ideal of the sannyasi, whose very
presence should disseminate goodness and blessing wherever he
went, is now nearly lost, and instead of this fine and reverent
figure we have the professional beggar. As the human corpse is
the vilest of corpses just because man is the highest of earth's
beings, so the degradation of this old and noble type is proba
bly the lowest thing in Indian society. In it, as in so many
other things, we Hindus have turned to a worshiping of the
dead corpses of rites and ceremonies and mere externals."
For it is not merely the ascetic ideal but the whole of Hinduism
that is in a decline. "That Hinduism has become diseased to I
its very core is a fact admitted by all Hindus, irrespective of
their special creed or caste." 1 Many of those who cling to the
forms of their religion have forgotten that the forms have a
meaning, and many of those who are dissatisfied with meaning
less forms have given them up and got nothing new to fill their
place. A Hindu friend tells me that in probably eighty per cent
of the homes in the United Provinces into which Western influ
ence has entered the old religious services are no longer ob
served. Another Hindu whom I met — a man known all over
India for his learning — said to me: "There has been a decided
falling-off in religious belief and practice throughout India in
these last few years. In Benares, to be sure, there is still a good
deal of zeal in the temple worship, but this is not the case in
most other places. In Bengal the temples are pretty well de
serted. Especially is this loss of interest in religion true of the
more thoughtful people and of the young men. Many of them
are beginning to feel that the forms of Hinduism were proper
and fitting centuries ago, but that they no longer suit the times
and the needs of the people, and no longer express their real
beliefs. A few are even saying that religion is harmful. Many
more continue the old practices, but only to keep up their
social position as devout and conservative Brahmins. Thus
many people go on pilgrimages to Benares and other places and
1 Govinda Das, op. cit., p. vi.
161

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
go through the prescribed actions, but with no real belief in
their efficacy, and merely as traditional or pleasant or socially
profitable performances."
Perhaps the saddest part of this whole process of degenera
tion is to be found not in the loss of belief, not in the meaning
less forms, not even in the immoralities and obscenities con
nected with some of the sects, but in the hypocrisy and sham
inevitably bred when an orthodox but unspiritual conserva
tism meets an increasing but cowardly intelligence. There are
thousands of keen-witted and well-informed Brahmins through
out India who see as clearly as any of us the absurdities of the
popular idol puja and the harmful and immoral influence of
many of the common rites and superstitions, who not merely
refrain from opposing these things, but take active part in
them, sometimes because they find it profitable to do so, more
often because they wish to avoid the social inconvenience that
would follow a sincere declaration of their real views. I met one
of these men at the great Shiva procession in Madura, with
forehead profusely daubed with sacred signs in the sacred cow-
dung, and asked him what he thought of the performance. At
first he gave me an elaborate defense of Hindu idolatry and
cult; but when I pressed him he admitted that he considered
the whole thing not only silly but harmful. And when I asked
why, then, he participated in it, he said frankly it was because
he feared social disapproval if he gave it up. One wonders
how these men, any more than the augurs of Cicero's time,
can look each other in the face without laughing.
But it would be unfair to judge Hinduism by its external and
degraded forms 1 — forms which those who believe most pro
foundly in the essence of Hinduism are the first to deplore. To
gain an understanding of Christianity we should hardly send
1 This is done not uncommonly by those who have seen the unfortunate
results of the attempts of certain swamis to disseminate a pseudo-Hinduism
— or a certain part of Hinduism — in the West, and who feel moved to
show up a side of Hinduism which the swamis' disciples are not likely to
hear mentioned. An example of this rather unjust presentation of Hinduism
in order to protect foolish American women from its worst sides is to be
found in Elizabeth A. Reed's recent book Hinduism in Europe and America
(New York, G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1914). No doubt nearly all the assertions
in the book are true, yet as a presentation of Hinduism it is almost as
misleading as is that of the swamis themselves.
162

TEACHERS, PRIESTS, AND HOLY MEN
one to the degenerate monasteries of South America nor to
the skeptics of modern Germany. And to understand Hindu
ism, not as it is practiced by the majority, but as it is conceived
— and loved — by its best representatives, we must consider
its more ideal aspect. A bird's-eye view, so to speak, of this
more ideal side of Hinduism — the Hinduism which the intelli
gent Hindu wishes to defend — may therefore serve as a suit
able close to this chapter.
And in no religion is a bird's-eye view more important — or
more difficult. Here more than anywhere else in the whole
sphere of historical religions are we in danger of missing the
forest for the trees. To see what Hinduism really means, what
with all its strange forms and contradictory beliefs it really is
about, we must get hold of its central concept and cling firmly
to that as our guide and interpreter. This central concept of
Hinduism^ unless I am greatly mistaken, is ihejsoul. It is
around this that all its fantastic forms and varied beliefs, its
profound philosophies and its blind superstitions, center, and
from it alone that they can be grasped as a whole and under
stood. If, putting aside for a time our criticisms, we look
back with a sympathetic and understanding mind at Hindu
ism as a whole from this point of view, we shall bear away with
us a general impression which will enable us to comprehend
to some extent the attitude and feeling of the devout Hindu
toward his venerable religion. Sharing his beliefs, then, for the
moment,- we shall see in Hinduism a systemjrevealed to the
Rishis, and by the Rishis to the race, before the dawn of his
tory; a^sysjEiiLwhich is nothing less than the universal Dharma,
the Way of Life for all sentient; beings. We shall see the One
A6soluteBpirit becoming many, as the fire sends forth sparks,
or as mists arise from the sea. Thus at a million million points
spirit invades matter, which itself in fact is but a manifestation
of the Eternal Spirit. These various offshoots of the Divine,
these eternal souls, we shall see (if for the time we become
good Hindus), through varied and sinuous courses ever striving
backward toward their source, ever seeking God who is their
home. Up from the lowest forms of life, through animal, hu
man, and divine, with varying degrees of ignorance and insight,
they make their way, but ever with the one conscious aim.
163

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
Among the animal forms this aim is quite inarticulate. With
man it becomes more definite; but with him it assumes many
forms in the different stages of his development. Some wor
ship the Divine disguised and hidden in idols of wood and
stone; some image It as an invisible but anthropomorphic Be
ing above the clouds; a few understand that the Eternal is in
our hearts, closer than breathing and nearer than hands and
feet, and realize that there are not many separate selves but
only one Self, and that in Him all beings, human, animal, and
divine, are eternally united. And in the end all must and all
shall learn this lesson.
The very structure of human society, in so far as it embodies
the ideal of the Rishis as laid down in the ancient Shastras,
reflects this one great purpose — tire education pf thesoul. All
are brothers, but some are younger and some older. All have
work to do, but the work of each is adapted to his ability. The
younger brothers in the World's great family, — the lower
classes in the World's great school — have the duties of lowly
service, corresponding to their undeveloped natures. Above
these stand the souls whose past experience in previous incarna
tions enables them to undertake the larger responsibilities of
the community. And in the highest human class are those who
through hundreds of faithful lives have purified their souls by
knowledge and devotion, and have thus attained to deeper
insight and to greater ability to lead their fellows in the life of
the spirit.
And the life of the individual in its turn, as seen by the de
vout Hindu, should be and may be — and if it follow the
Dharma it must be — a microcosm of society and of the Uni
verse, and embody the same great purpose as they. Its first
stage should be devoted to mastering the knowledge which is
the spiritual heritage of the race, its second to productive ser
vice, its third to wise and unselfish guidance of the younger gen
eration, while in his last few years the old man wanders out by
himself, alone with God, to complete his liberation from the
flesh, and to realize to the full his essential unity with the Di
vine. TheJdeaLof the sannyasi isjthus_the crowrijonihadujife.
His departure from home to the homeless~state is the soul's
Declaration of Independence. And throughout the centuries
164

TEACHERS, PRIESTS, AND HOLY MEN
of India's great Past, and even to-day, the sannyasi has been
and still is an unfailing reminder that poverty is not disgrace,
and a living protest against materialism and against the soul's
bondage to things.
This is what Hinduism means to the devout and intelligent
Hindu. To him the life of the individual, the structure of soci
ety, the whole of human history, the entire cosmic process
present themselves as aspects and phases of the one universal
purpose, the training and education of the soul in its long
pilgrimage from the layer of the brute up to the steps of the
Throne of God.

CHAPTER IX
REFORM MOVEMENTS WITHIN HINDUISM
EVER since the West came to India it has been reforming it.
The missionaries have been reforming its religion and the
British Government its politics, and both have been seeking in
more or less direct fashion to reform its social customs. But it
would be unfair to India to suppose (and I suspect the supposi
tion is not uncommon) that in all this reforming movement India
itself is quite passive and simply waits for others to operate
upon it — like a man in the dentist's chair or a patient under
ether. There have always been native reformers in India, men
who saw the need of religious and social changes and who have
sought to start new movements in the right direction. Before
India's contact with the West these movements were, indeed,
primarily religious (though of course religious reforms often
involve social ones) ; but since Western education and ideals got
a footing in the land both religious and social reform move
ments among the Indians have not been uncommon. In the
last few years especially, non-sectarian efforts for educational
and charitable purposes and for the reform of social abuses
have been taken up by a goodly number of educated Indians;
and a word or two about some typical movements of this sort
should be said before we go on to consider the more purely
religious reforms that have sprung up within Hinduism.
The fact that most of these efforts at sociaLreform_haye orig
inated only in the last few years is itself significant. Forjhere
can be little doubt that the desire for the unselfish_5ejvi£e_o!
others which is now spreading among the Indians came chiefly,
though indirectly, from Christianity and from the example-flf
Christian missionaries. The desire to "acquire'rnerit" and to
save one's own soul has lain so heavily upon Hinduism (as, in
deed, it did upon much of monkish and mediaeval Christianity)
that it seems to have been very difficult for the idea of purely
objective service without thought of reward to take root. " It
1 66

REFORM MOVEMENTS WITHIN HINDUISM
mayseem a paradox," writes the editor of the " Indian Interpre
ter," > " and yet it is true that the very occupation of the [Hindu]
religion with the desire to get rid of the self has made it selfish.
The individual soul and its fortunes form to it the first reality.
The ancient saints of India seem never able altogether to forget
themselves, they are so absorbed in the endeavor, never accom
plished, to escape from themselves. We cannot imagine them ^
saying like Wilberforce, when a lady reproached him for neg
lecting in his concern for the slaves the needs of his own soul, —
'Madam, I had almost forgotten that I had a soul.' " It was
only after the Indians had seen the example of the Christian
missionary that this great idea of purely selfless service for its
own sake — this objective frame of mind — dawned upon any
considerable number of them. To their credit be it said, how
ever, that once this idea was presented to them in the bodily
form of unselfish Christian lives, it made a strong appeal and
has been adopted eagerly and put into practice by leading
Indians of every religion.
It is no part of my purpose to give even a list of the various
native organizations and institutions in which this new desire
for helpfulness is expressing itself. Instead I shall give merely a
few examples, taken almost at random, as illustrations of the
sort of thing that is going on in many parts of India. Perhaps
the most remarkable of these organizations is the "Servants of
India Society": for it has chosen as its province nothing less
than the alleviation of every kind of suffering, the attack upon
every kind of wrong. It was founded in 1905 by Mr. G. K.
Gokhale,2 an Indian gentleman whom India rightly regards as
a truly great man. Mr. Gokhale had seen the power that the
new idea of service was gaining in India and he recognized the
fact that without wise guidance it would be wasted. He there
fore conceived of an institution composed of a few experienced
and devoted workers who should hold themselves in readiness
to respond to every call in the service of India, initiate reforms,
lend advice, and organize new centers of work, and also give to
1 October, 1913, p. 99.
1 Mr. Gokhale died on February 19, 1915, and his loss was regarded as
a national calamity in all parts of India. The Servants of India Society is
being continued, however, with the Hon. V. S. Srinavasa Sastry as
President. I67

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
promising young men a systematic modern training in social
service which should turn them out into the great field not
merely enthusiasts but experts. Only the devoted may join this
band. All who enter it must recognize the service of their
country as their supreme end in life; to this service they must
give their entire time and strength, earning no money for them
selves, but content to live upon what little the Society can
afford them for support; and they must promise "to regard all
Indians as brothers and to work for their advancement without
distinction of caste or creed." The Society has at present
twenty-five members. They come from various provinces and
from various castes. They all are Hindus but one, who is a
Mohammedan. At their headquarters in Poona they have a
school in which each of the new "Servants" is required to
spend four months in study during each of the first five years of
his membership.
The work of the "Servants of India" is as wide as is India's
social need. A bare list of their activities would cover pages:
including such things as the formation of elementary educa
tional leagues; the promotion of female education by founding
schools for girls and the building-up through the press of a sane
public opinion on this and other subjects; the initiation of agri
cultural improvements and the instruction of the small farmer;
the sanitation of villages; the founding of various cooperative
societies particularly among the lowest classes — including
millhands and the despised Sweeper Caste; the purifying of
public festivals from various traditional indecencies, and the
substitution for these of healthy entertainments; the provision
of popular instructive lectures and traveling libraries, and
classes where men and women may learn the elements of lry>
giene and sanitation; instruction of the masses in the value of
inoculation against the plague; plague relief; famine relief,
etc. As I have said, there are but twenty-five members in the
Society as yet; but every one of them is a center for many
workers, whose enthusiasm he rouses, and whose activity he
organizes and directs. One of the chief efforts of the Society is
the foundation of new institutions or committees all over India
for the accomplishment of particular ends — organizations
which thereafter become independent and self-supporting.
168

REFORM MOVEMENTS WITHIN HINDUISM
Partly as a result of the efforts of these Servants of India,
partly from the work of other servants who do not belong to
Mr. Gokhale's society, the number of organizations for social
service throughout India is rapidly growing. The names of a
few will indicate the kind of work they are doing: The Deccan
Educational League, the Society for the Protection of Children,
the Social Service League, the Seva Sadan (for the rescue and
education of women), the National Social Conference, the
Social Reform Association, the Plague Relief Committee, the
Central Famine Relief Committee, various local temperance
associations, the Annual Temperance Conference, the Indian
Ladies' Conference, the fifty Hindu and the forty-one Mos
lem orphanages, etc. Mention should also be made of the
periodicals of reform which have sprung up in recent years,
the most important of which is the "Indian Social Reformer
of Bombay," now completing its twenty-fifth year, while the
two youngest are the "Social Reform Advocate" of Madras,
founded in December, 1914, and the Bombay "Social Service
Quarterly," started in June, 1915. These papers exert a real
and beneficent influence in many parts of the peninsula.
Besides these educational and charitable organizations I
should mention the attack which Indian reformers are making
on certain crying evils peculiar to India and due to her social
structure and her traditions. The most important and funda
mental of these evils is the caste system. And against this the
present war is proving itself an ally and friend of India. The
thousands of brave soldiers who have crossed the seas to fight
for the King-Emperor have thereby broken caste, but it is
unthinkable that they will be "outcasted" for it. These sol
diers, moreover, are from many different castes, and in the
trenches of France and Flanders they have learned to live on
terms of closest intimacy, — a lesson which they are not likely
completely to forget on their return to India. But peace as well
as war works for reform, and the greatest foe of the caste system
is modern life itself. Only India would have tolerated the irra
tional and self-imposed restrictions of caste as long as it has,
and India is beginning to grow tired of them. The chief up
holders of the system have always been the Brahmins; but
today the Brahmins, being the most intelligent class in India,
169

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
find caste restrictions particularly galling. As a result many
of them are beginning to break caste whenever they feel secure
in not being found out. A most enthusiastic Bengalee Brah
min whom I met upon a train stopped, in the course of a schol
arly exposition of the Bhagavad Gita, to quench his thirst
with a bottle of soda-water which I had seen him purchase of
a low-caste dealer in the last station. I asked him how he
reconciled this with the strong belief he had expressed in
the good old customs of his country. "You see," he answered,
"there are no other Brahmins about!"
But while the lesser evils of caste — such as the prohibition
against leaving India and against dining with Europeans — are
bound to fall of their own weight, the same is not true of many
of the absurd divisions that the caste system brings into Indian
society, and especially of the cruel wrongs perpetrated in its
name upon the millions who stand below the Shudras in the
social scale. Fortunately some of the more liberal-minded
Indians are making a brave attempt to face these evils and to
rouse public sentiment against them.
Attacks of a mild nature have been made upon the system
for many centuries. The Buddhists, Jainas, and Sikhs in the
days of their founders all to some extent opposed caste. But
caste reform by these bodies was for centuries discontinued and
is only now showing signs of renewal. At present the oldest
institution that is really attacking the caste system is the
Brahmo Samaj — of which more farther on. The Arya Samaj
neither accepts caste as it is nor has altogether broken with it;
it opposes caste in a mild way, but does not (as does the
Brahmo Samaj) insist upon its members giving up their caste.
Beside these there are a few local organizations which aim to
attack the system either directly or indirectly. One of the most
important is the "Aryan Brotherhood" of Bombay, which was
established in 1909 with the express purpose of rousing public
sentiment against caste restrictions. It admits to its member
ship men of every caste and no caste, and constantly advocates
the disregard of caste rules and the spread of enlightenment on
the subject. The society has attractive club-rooms in which
men of various castes meet. Occasionally a dinner is held at
which all the members dine together — a shocking thing in
170

REFORM MOVEMENTS WITHIN HINDUISM
India ! — and the names of those present are published. This is
done as a deliberate challenge to the castes — for in Bombay
the conservative upholders of the old rules are not so belligerent
as they are in smaller and less enlightened centers. If the mem
bers of the Society simply dined together the castes would take
no notice of it, even if the names of those present happened to
be known. But when the names are published the castes cannot
ignore it and have to take action, attempting to force their
members to go through purification ceremonies. Thus the bat
tle is opened, and if the members have the moral courage to
resist and defy their relatives, the caste rules are by so much
brought into contempt. The members of the Aryan Brother
hood with whom I have talked are very sanguine as to the
future. They expect that the movement they have started will
spread to all the more enlightened parts of India and that be
fore long all restrictions on communal eating will be given up
among the intelligent.
But the crudest results of the caste system have to do with
the outcastes — the " depressed classes" as they are called, the
scum of the earth, as they are regarded — too defiled to be
allowed in any Hindu temple, too low for the love of God to
reach. Something is being done for them at last. In fact, back
in the days of Keshub Chunder Sen — in 1870 — the Brahmo
Samaj began work for these fifty million "untouchables," and
the Bombay branch of the Samaj — known as the Prarthna
Samaj — has especially distinguished itself in its efforts for
their uplifting. It was chiefly under its auspices and direction
that "the Depressed Classes Mission Society of India " was
started in 1906, of whose work Mr. Saint Nihal Singh could
write as follows early in 1913: "During the seven years that
have passed since its foundation this Society has spread its
branches far and wide in various parts of the Peninsula, and
has come to be regarded as unquestionably the best effort put
forward by non-Christian India to create an interest in the wel
fare of the low-castes and improve their condition. Its activi
ties are many-sided. The parent body, at Bombay, for instance,
maintains several schools, a boarding-house, a bookbindery, a
shoe factory, and a mission. The workers visit the homes of the
poor pariahs and endeavor to persuade the parents to send
171

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
their children to school ; attempt to teach them the necessity of
cleanliness of body, clothes, and home; arrange for a doctor to
visit those who are ill; nurse them in their homes free of charge,
or help them to get into some charitable hospital ; visit the tene
ments and conduct regular home classes for grown women, who
are taught reading, writing, and sewing; and read from the
Hindu Scriptures passages calculated to inspire them with
higher ideals." 1
The Arya Samaj has also done something for these "unap-
proachables." Recognizing the influence of traditional forms
on the Indian mind, the Arya leaders have attempted to make
the untouchables touchable by putting them through a tradi
tional religious ceremony, shaving their heads in orthodox
Hindu fashion, and endowing them with the sacred triple cord.
Care is taken to use plenty of mantras at this service, and on its
conclusion the Brahmin members of the Samaj accept sweet
meats from the formerly untouchable initiates, in token that
their vileness is taken away. Some even go so far as to visit the
homes of these newly consecrated Hindus and eat food cooked
by their wives. "This was a bold step," says Mr. Singh, "and
caused a great commotion at the time of its occurrence. [It was
first tried in 1899.] But the Arya Samaj has persevered in its
efforts in this direction, and during the last decade has uplifted
thousands of people belonging to the depressed classes. The
strange part of it is that it has come to pass that the orthodox
Hindus in some localities are gradually ceasing to ill-treat the
'purified' panchamas [fifth caste men], but look on them as
their brothers in the faith, and no longer regard them as 'un
touchable.' The Samaj is supplementing this work by carrying
on a propaganda to fit the lowly ones to occupy their new posi
tion in society by educating them. A school is maintained at
Sialkote, where young ' unapproachable ' boys are taught to be
responsible men, and arrangements are being made to start
other similar institutions." 2
The Sikhs, the Moslems, the Deva Samaj, the Theosophical
Society, and a few local Hindu societies are all doing something
for the depressed classes, and their efforts are being seconded by
1 "India's Untouchables," Contemporary Review for March, 1913, p.381-
2 Op. cit., p. 382. 172

REFORM MOVEMENTS WITHIN HINDUISM
some of the more advanced native rulers, particularly by that
most intelligent Maharaja, the Gaekwar of Baroda. With his
usual wisdom he has realized that if the outcastes are to be
respected they must first be made respectable; hence his efforts
are directed chiefly to the education of these unfortunates, and
he has covered Baroda with schools and academies for the ex
clusive use of the children of outcastes. But in spite of these
admirable efforts of high-minded Indians in various localities,
it still is true that in India as a whole the outcaste's best friend
is the Christian missionary.
Another evil tradition to which the Indians are beginning to
pay some attention (thanks again to Christian suggestions) is
the custom of forbidding the remarriage of widows. This cus
tom is particularly harmful and even cruel in India owing to the
twofold fact that many of the widows are little girls, and that
(thanks to the doctrine of Karma) they are often regarded as
having been the cause of the premature death of their husbands,
through some sin committed by them in a previous incarnation.
There are said to be 23,000,000 widows in India, of whom 112,-
000 are under ten years of age. On the husband's death the little
girl's head is shaved, her pretty adornments are broken, and
she is devoted thereafter to a life of compulsory usefulness. No
one will marry her and if she stays with her husband's family
she must earn her keep. As a rule she has had but little educa
tion and therefore cannot go out into the world and earn her
living as a teacher or as a nurse. Practically no other money-
making occupations are open to women in India. There is thus
little for her to look forward to and little to brighten her life.
It is not surprising that the number of suicides among these
women is always large.
Already sixty years ago a few very advanced Hindu gentle
men began to take steps for the mitigation of these evils. In
1856 the Government passed an Act legalizing the remarriage
of widows, and "about 1870 an agitation was started in the
Bombay Presidency for the purpose of rousing Hindus to
such sympathy with widows as would make widow-marriage
really possible in Hindu society." J In 1887 a Widows' Home
was established near Calcutta, by a Hindu gentleman named
1 Farquhar, Modern Religious Movements in India, p. 402.
173

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
Banerjea. Since then nearly a dozen "Homes" have been or
ganized by Indians in various parts of the land, perhaps the
most influential being the one established by Mr. Karve at
Poona which in 1896 gave the impetus to the founding of the
Hindu Widows' Home Association. The aim of this organiza
tion is to educate young widows and prepare them to become
teachers, or nurses, and if possible to form from them "a class
of Hindu sisters of charily and mercy." 1 A Widow Remar
riage Association has also been formed which is receiving a
good deal of encouragement and assistance.2
But there will continue to be millions of sad child-widows
in India just so long as the custom of child marriage contin
ues. This is the more fundamental evil of the two and from it
not only child-widowhood but various other evils grow. There
are 302,000 wives in India under six years of age, and 22,500,-
000 between five and ten. Most of these, of course, do not yet
live with their husbands; but there are over 9,400,000 girls
under sixteen who have entered the marriage state in the full
sense of the word. Most girls are taken from school at ten to be
married and thereafter receive no more education. Out of every
hundred girls of school age, just four are in school. From this it
may be imagined how fit they are to be intellectual comrades
for their husbands (who, indeed, are sometimes fifteen, but
sometimes fifty), or to fulfill the intellectual and moral require
ments of motherhood and mould the minds of the next genera
tion. It is said that about twenty-five per cent of Hindu
women die prematurely through early marriages, and as many
more become semi-invalids from the same cause.
The first attack against this and other evils connected with
the Hindu family (including the prejudice against widow-
remarriage) was made by Christian missionaries. But the
Brahmo Samaj early took up the fight in very efficient fashion,
and the Prarthna Samaj has also done its share. The Arya
Samaj, too, has done something. In 1891 the Government
raised the age of consent (in the provinces, not in the native
states) from ten to twelve. But though cohabitation with a
1 See Mr. Karve's article in the Indian Interpreter for October, 1913.
2 The Indian Social Reformer for January 3, 1915, notes a gift to the
Association of 30,000 rupees. 174

REFORM MOVEMENTS WITHIN HINDUISM
wife under twelve is now illegal, the law is very poorly enforced,
its rigid enforcement being almost impossible without the
backing of public opinion. A purely non-sectarian society,
whose aim it is to rouse public opinion and raise still higher the
marriage-age of girls, was organized in December, 1909, under
the name the "Hindu Marriage Reform League." Its founder
and first president was a Hindu and all its members are Hindus ;
but it should be added that the organization of the Society was
largely due to two American ladies, one of whom (Miss Carrie
A. Tennant) has devoted her entire time ever since to the or
ganization of new local centers and to the rather difficult task
of keeping up the enthusiasm of the members. The League
has now ninety-eight branches (fifty-two for men, forty-six for
women) , all in flourishing condition. It maintains a library and
free reading-room at Simla, and publishes a monthly journal in
the interests of its great cause. It aims to induce as many
young men as possible to take the vow not to marry girls under
twelve years (preferably the girl should be at least sixteen), and
to obtain from as many fathers as possible the promise not to
give their daughters in marriage before they have reached that
age. This they hope to do by means of constant agitation —
working on public opinion through lectures, pamphlets, and,
especially, through example. Ultimately they hope for a law
forbidding the marriage of girls under sixteen.1
One more aim of the Hindu Marriage Reform League is to
rouse public opinion against the present custom which requires
the father of the prospective bride to give his future son-in-law
a large dowry with his child. As the dowries required are exorbi
tant, and as it is almost impossible for a girl to find a husband
without one, the problem has become very serious. Fathers
are often financially crippled or ruined in order to avoid the dis
grace of having a daughter still unmarried at fifteen or sixteen;
and young men are practically bought as husbands — sold to
the highest bidder. Both the Marriage Reform League and the
1 Even conservative Hindus, though unprepared to go so far as the
League, recognize some of the evils of early marriage and are willing that
some change should be made in present customs. The 1915 Conference of
the AU India Orthodox Hindus, at Hardwar, "passed a resolution recom
mending the minimum marriageable age of boys to be fixed at 18 and that
of girls at 8 years." (The Indian Social Reformer for May 9, 1915O
175

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
Social Reform Association have been attacking this evil cus
tom and their efforts have recently received notable reinforce
ment from a young girl in Calcutta, whose name will not soon
be forgotten. Snehalata had reached the advanced age of four
teen, and was still unmarried. Her father had made every ef
fort to collect enough money to buy a husband for her, but in
vain — for the price demanded for a bridegroom was eight
hundred rupees in cash and twelve hundred in jewelry. There
was nothing left him but to mortgage the home. Snehalata de
termined to prevent this sacrifice; and at the same time to con
tribute what one life could contribute to the destruction of a
custom which had brought misery upon so many thousands of
loving fathers beside her own. Having dressed herself in her
best, she climbed to the roof of the house, soaked her clothes in
kerosene, and setting fire to them stood there burning in the
sight of all the neighborhood. An attempt was made to save
her, but it was too late.
In the pathetic note that she left she said among other
things: "After I am gone, father, I know you will shed tears
over my ashes. I shall be gone — but the house will be saved.
I have been pondering on the best way of ending my worldly
pilgrimage — Fire, Water, or Poison. I have preferred the
first, and may the conflagration I shall kindle set the whole
country on fire!"
This last prayer of hers seems in part to have been granted.
For her sacrifice created a deep impression in Bengal and in
other parts of India. Several girls in the last few months have
followed her example and gone bravely to a self-imposed and
dreadful death, and these heroic little women are doing more
than many hours of lectures and many tons of pamphlets to
bring home to young men and old the cruelty and shame of the
custom which brought about their sacrifice.1
1 The methods used to spread Snehalata's influence may seem to us at
times a little odd, but the influence is none the less real. Thus the Jaina
Gazette for April, 1914, informs us that "a Beharee gentleman of Bhagalpore
has offered to award a cup to be named the ' Snehalata Cup,' open to Six-a
side Football Teams. . . . The cup bears the picture of Snehalata in flames
with a vow engraved on it not to be a party to a marriage dowry. The com
petition has been open to all young men in Behar, and they must subscribe
to the following vow: 'I solemnly declare that I shall not be a party to
enforce marriage dowry either directly or indirectly: so help me God.'" —
176

REFORM MOVEMENTS WITHIN HINDUISM
We shall now turn to some of the more strictly religious re
form movements of India. In the middle of the last century,
and in fact up till about 1870, things began to look rather dark
for Hinduism. The educated Indians were growing quite away
from their native religion, leaving it almost without leaders or
intelligent defenders and interpreters; and the only question
worth asking seemed to be whether Christianity or skepticism
should be its heir. But toward the close of the century rein
forcements came into the beleaguered fortress; and Hinduism
entered upon a period of renaissance which it is still enjoying.
As a result a new cult of the Vedas and Shastras was estab
lished; intelligent and educated Indians were led to search for
spiritual food in the writings and traditions and religious cus
toms of their own country; and a defense was sought not only
in authority, but in reason and experience for various Hindu
customs which but a few years before the more enlightened
Indians had condemned. *
The Ramakrishna movement is not the oldest of these forces \
in the restoration of Hinduism, but it is the most thoroughly
Hindu. Its founder, Ramakrishna, was a man in whom the
Indian type of spirituality expressed itself to an unusual degree.
Brought up as a servitor in a temple of Kali, he became pos-
Unfortunately the public indignation against the dowry custom is now
beginning to lose some of its force. In June of this year the Editor of
the Bengalee,, in speaking of the effect of Snehalata's martyrdom, wrote:
"Meetings were held, vows were taken; it seemed as if we were within a
measurable distance of the abolition of a very pernicious usage. But this
wicked thing yet lives. The monster only hid its head to rise again when
the storm passed by; and thus we find even now extortionate demands
made by the bridegrooms and their parents and guardians."
1 Particularly notable is the attempt of many enthusiastic supporters of
Hinduism to make use of methods which have proved fruitful in the hands
of missionaries in the diffusion of Christianity. Mr. Farquhar gives a short
summary of them as follows: "'Missionaries' have been sent out, 'Mis
sions' established, 'Prayer Meetings' held, 'Young Men's Hindu Associa
tions' formed, 'Gita Classes' conducted, 'Inquirers' interviewed, 'Tracts'
distributed. . . . Some Hindus of Madras have got out a little Hindu Man
ual to distribute (to those who pass University Examinations). ... A little
volume has appeared consisting of verses from the Gita and the Bhagavat
Purana in English and entitled the Imitation of Shrikrishna! Single Gospels
are sold all over India in the vernacular at a pice each: a Bengali translation
of the Gita is now sold in the streets of Calcutta at the same price." "The
Future of Christianity in India"; reprinted from the Hindustan Review
(Lahore, 1904), p. 36.
177

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
sessed while still a boy with extreme devotion to the Great
Mother, and with a longing for perfect purity and for an im
mediate realization of the Divine. Early in life he turned
sannyasi and for a period of years put himself through trying
ordeals with the aim of overcoming every weakness of the flesh
and all attachment to this world. In order to understand bet
ter the nature of the Divine, — not by theological discourses,
but through immediate experience, — he joined in the worship
of the various Hindu sects, low and high; he lived for some
time with a Mohammedan saint; and learned what he could
from Christianity. He took every man's religion very seriously
and he tried so far as possible to practice each and to under
stand it from the inside.
"Thus from actual experience," says his disciple Viveka
nanda in writing of him, "he came to know that the goal of
every religion is the same, that each is trying to teach the same
thing, the difference being largely in method and still more in
language. At the core, all sects and all religions have the same
aim." "As the same sugar is made into various figures," Rama
krishna used to say to his disciples, "so one sweet Mother
Divine is worshiped in various climes and ages under various
names and forms. Different creeds are but different paths to
reach the Almighty. As with one gold various ornaments are
made having different forms and names, so one God is wor
shiped in different countries and ages, and has different forms
and names." x
In his later years Ramakrishna came to feel that he had a
divine commission to preach the truth; and by that he meant
no new doctrine, but the ancient conviction of India that God
is closer to us than breathing and nearer than hands or feet, and
that man's first duty is to realize the Divine within himself.
This I say he constantly preached: yet he was no public
preacher and never even went to meet an audience; — the au
dience came to him. "When the rose is blown," he used to
1 Max Muller, The Life and Sayings of Ramakrishna, p. ioo. A new Life
of Sri Ramakrishna (by Swami Saradananda) is just being published in the
Prabuddha Bharata, the first instalment having appeared in the January,
1915, number. 178

HOLY MAN ON BED OF SPIKES

REFORM MOVEMENTS WITHIN HINDUISM
say, "and sheds its fragrance all around, the bees come of
themselves. The bees seek the full-blown rose, and not the rose
the bees." The fame of his spiritual wisdom gradually spread
through the country-side, and "numbers of earnest men of all
sects and creeds began to flock to him to receive instruction
and to drink the waters of life. From day-dawn to nightfall he
had no leisure to eat or drink, so engaged was he in teaching,
exhorting, and ministering to the wants of these hungry souls.
. . . Though this incessant labor began at last to tell upon
him, yet he would not rest. When pressed to do so he would
say: ' I would suffer willingly all sorts of bodily pains and death
also, a hundred times if by doing so I could bring one single
soul to freedom and salvation.' "
Finally, in 1885, he was attacked with cancer of the throat,
and the physicians advised him to keep the strictest silence
"But the advice was to no effect. Crowds of men and women
gathered wherever he went, and waited patiently to hear a
single word from his mouth, and he, out of compassion for them,
would not remain silent. . . . Even when the passage of his
throat became so constricted that he could not swallow even
liquid food, he would never stop his efforts. He was undaunted
and remained as cheerful as ever till, on August 16, 1886, at ten
o'clock in the night, he entered into Samadhi from which he
never returned." l
Ramakrishna seems to have been a man of remarkable per
sonal magnetism. Though with no knowledge of the English
language nor of European culture, and with no wide reading in
Indian literature, he made a deep impression upon the many
hundreds who came to talk with him. And he seems to have
left on nearly all who knew him the conviction that here was a
man who had communed face to face with God. Vivekananda
summarizes his message as follows : —
" Do not care for doctrines, do not care for dogmas or sectsN
or churches or temples: they count for little compared with
the essence of existence in each man which is his spirituality,
and the more this is developed in man the more powerful
he is for good. Earn that first, acquire that, and criticise
no one, for all doctrines and creeds have some good in them.
1 Max Muller, op. cit., pp. 55 and 57.
179

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
Show by your lives that religion does not mean words,
or names, or sects, but that it means spiritual realization.
Only those can understand who have felt. Only those who
have attained to spirituality can communicate it to others,
can be great teachers of mankind. They alone are the powers
of light." 1
When Ramakrishna died he left a little group of young men
who had sat at his feet and drunk in his message. Among these
was Vivekananda, a man almost as remarkable as his master.
Under his leadership these young men formed an Order of
Sannyasins and Brahmacharins whose aim it was — and is —
to redeem India through preaching and practicing the message
of their dead Teacher. They accepted their master's teaching
that all religions are equally true and lead ultimately to the
same goal; but they drew from this premise the conclusion
that for every people its own religion is best, inasmuch as no
form of symbolism can ever have so much meaning to a man
as that in which he has been brought up. They hold, moreover
(whether consistently or not), that this ultimate truth under
lying every religion is the Vedanta philosophy in its " Advaita"
or monistic form. From both of these premises it follows, obvi
ously enough, that the best religion for India is Hinduism. This
being the case, the aim of the Order is naturally twofold: (i) to
defend and resuscitate Hinduism and to show forth what they
regard the true spiritual meaning of its various forms; and (2)
to apply the spirit of the Vedanta teaching that all men are
ultimately one in God, by ministering to every kind of need
and responding to every call for helpfulness.
How far the Order would have developed the practical and
actively philanthropic side of this work had Ramakrishna lived
on indefinitely to guide its development is questionable. We
have already seen that he regarded ' ' works ' ' somewhat askance,
as tending to distract one from realization of God, which is
the chief goal. To his friend Keshub Chunder Sen, who as
the head of the Progressive Brahmo Samaj was doing so much
active philanthropic and social work, he said : "You talk against
child-marriage and the caste system, about female emancipa
tion and female education. I say one thing is needful, — the
1 My Master (Almora, Prabuddha Bharata Press, 1903), p. 35.
180

REFORM MOVEMENTS WITHIN HINDUISM
realization of God and devotion to Him. First realize God, and
all other things shall be added unto you." 1
Whatever would have been Ramakrishna's position had his
life been prolonged, certain it is that the policy of the Order
was very notably changed when Vivekananda, the successor of
the founder, returned from his long trip in Europe and America,
where he had been able to study at first hand the systematic
philanthropy through which the spirit of Christ gets its partial
expression. And it was, perhaps, as a result of these observa
tions in the West that Vivekananda introduced into the Order
a point of view reminiscent quite as much of Keshub Chunder
Sen as of Ramakrishna. At any rate, since the time of Vive-
kananda's return to India, the devotional and the practical
aims of the Order have gone on hand in hand.
The Society has carried on this double enterprise with very
genuine devotion up to this day. It possesses some seven mon
asteries in different parts of India, the mother chapter being at
Belur, a few miles up the river from Calcutta. All of these
monasteries are centers of social and charitable work except one
which is located up among the foothills of the Himalayas,2
and which is especially devoted to meditation on the Advaita
Vedanta. It is, in short, a hermitage where members may re
tire for a while and refresh their souls in contemplation. All
the other monasteries of the Order are situated at or near im
portant centers where their influence may be felt by India's
masses: for its spirit is strikingly like that which dominated St.
Francis and the early Franciscans.3 To make their social and
charitable work more efficient and to make easier the coopera
tion of laymen, the Order founded the " Ramakrishna Mission,"
which was legally incorporated in 1909, the Trustees of the
Monastery at Belur being made ex-offwio the Trustees of the
new institution. In addition to the monasteries, which, as I
have said, are centers of charitable work, the Ramakrishna
Mission has six hospitals, or centers of medical relief, one
1 The Gospel of Ramakrishna, p. 173.
2 At Mayavati, fifty miles northeast of Almora and sixty-three miles from
the nearest railroad station. It is at an altitude of 6800 feet above sea level.
* I have met several members of the Order in different parts of India,
and can testify to the splendid devotion and unstinted love for all which
these noble men and women possess. I8l

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
orphanage, and three schools (one of them being for girls and
women). There is a pitiful call for this work, and the Mission
has responded with the most complete devotion, the only limit
to this service being its limited supply of funds. Between July,
191 1, and December, 1912, the Ramakrishna Mission Home of
Service in Benares ministered to some 14,178 persons, who were
either sick or very old or starving; while the Ramakrishna Hos
pital at Brindaban during the year 1912 treated 24,382 patients.
The motto of the Order is "Work is Worship."
The more intellectual side of the work is conducted by pub
lic sermons or addresses, by pamphlets, books, and periodicals.1
Nor has the attempt of the Order to disseminate its truths been
confined to India. Whether consistently or not with the funda
mental proposition of their Master, that every religion is true
and for each people its own religion is the best, the followers of
Ramakrishna have found the missionary spirit in their own
hearts so strong that they have been carried beyond the seas,
and not only have several of their "swamis" made preaching
tours through Europe, they have also founded some five per
manent centers of missionary work in the United States —
namely, at New York, Pittsburg, San Francisco, Boston, and
Washington. In the "foreign field," as we should call it, it is
of course only the Advaita Vedanta that is taught; but for
India the Ramakrishna Order regards the external forms of
Hinduism as useful symbols to lead the less intelligent up to
the higher vision. Hence it does not oppose polytheism, but
even regards it as having a real truth. Swami Vivekananda, as
we have seen, was a devout worshiper of Shiva and Kali, and
even taught his European disciple Miss Noble ("Sister Nive
dita") to do puja to them. And in imitation of his example the
Order to-day approves of an intelligent use of the images of the
gods, as an aid to worship,2 encourages pilgrimage, and to a
1 The official publication of the Order is the Prabuddha Bharata, pub
lished monthly at Mayavati in the Himalayas.
2 In discussing the use of idols Ramakrishna said: "We see little girls
with their dolls. How long do they play with them? So long as they are not
married. After marriage they put away those dolls. Similarly, one needs
images and symbols so long as God is not realized in His true form. It is
God Himself who has provided these various forms of worship. The Master
of the universe has done all this to suit different men in different stages of
182

REFORM MOVEMENTS WITHIN HINDUISM
certain extent even defends an ideal form of the caste system.
In short, it thoroughly believes in Hinduism. But the Hindu
ism it longs to see is an intelligent and spiritual Hinduism.
No one has made more fun of the silly and cruel barriers and
superstitions of caste than Vivekananda and his disciples —
"Don't touchism" and "taking religion into the kitchen" he
used to call these things. It is the spirit back of the form that
these monks and workers are seeking. And true to their basal
thought they protest also against the modern tendency to put
the political before the spiritual.1 A spiritual nationalism they
would revive in India, but not the political sort preached by the
Arya Samaj. And it is this ideal of a national spiritual culture
which determines their ideal of education for India as a whole.
" Swami Vivekananda's idea was that education in India must
have its foothold secure on what history has transmitted to us
as our ancient Indo-Aryan culture. In this culture the supreme
end is the Vedic goal of spirituality, and from that standpoint
spiritual growth and knowledge." (Gospel of Ramakrishna, p. 64.) In this
connection it should be pointed out that the common Indian tendency
toward guru-worship, especially toward the worship of dead gurus, is very
strong within the Order of Ramakrishna. Both Ramakrishna and Vive
kananda are well on the way to deification. The eightieth anniversary of
the birth of the former was recently celebrated at Belur and all the centers
with ceremonies of "worship," and in fact his picture is "worshiped" every
day at the Belur Math. A life-size statue of Vivekananda also, together with
his "sacred ashes, " is kept at Belur " in his samadhi Temple," and special
reverence is paid there to him on each anniversary of his birth. See the
Prabuddha Bharata for February, March, and April, 1915.
1 Cf. the Prabuddha Bharata for June, 1914, pp. 102-08. Cf. also the
following from the same periodical: "Alas, that educated Indians should still
find it more acceptable to cling to the r&le of a beggar in politics than to
pursue the manlier course of building up from within the real national life
of India! The mistaken choice of a political basis for that life has not only
robbed the national mind of its manly grace, but has kept it too long astray
from the path of all real progress. ... It is sheer ignorance which makes
them [the educated Indians] covetous of the political nationalism of Europe.
They do not dive deep enough into the philosophy of life or into Indian his
tory to see that for the upbuilding of a nation it is possible to adopt a higher
collective life than what is implied in the political nationalism of Europe."
(Prabuddha Bharata for November, 1914, p. 216). "They do not pause to
remember that India can have no scheme of life, individual or collective,
unless it be created and governed by religion. . . . Religion requires to be
preached, therefore, to modern India in its new significance as a nation-
builder. We must make educated Indians admit and respect its superior
claims in that respect, and the claims of politics must give way." (From the
January, 1915, number, pp. 3 and 4.)
183

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
the significance and value of all the departments of knowledge
and art are estimated. . . - Our ancient culture refuses to be
dealt with in the way the modern educationists strive to do it.
It is a sort of living organism, this culture, and no mechanical
process of adding and subtracting will apply here. Within its
integrity all human ends and ideals, ancient or modern, must
have to enter as terms of the organic interrelation through
which the supreme spiritual end fulfills itself. Unless our an
cient culture is restored to this sort of organic existence, no
element of any foreign culture can be properly absorbed by
it." l
The members of the Order of Ramakrishna are not the only
Indians who cherish these beliefs and these ideals. Some of the
more able Indian educators outside the Order, and quite un
connected with it, are working with the same end in view. In
fact, nowhere else does the attempt to rationalize and resusci
tate Hinduism seem so promising as at the Central Hindu Col
lege in Benares. In this school and college (for it is both) boys
and young men are given a sound general education and at the
same time are systematically instructed, year after year, in the
real inner meaning of the Hindu religion as their instructors
view it. How far the rationalized Hinduism thus taught is his
torically justified need not trouble us; for it does not trouble
either the students or their teachers. The aim of the teaching is
not the academic one of painting an historical picture, but the
more vital one of evolving out of Hindu beliefs and customs a
religion and morality which shall combine the enormous pres
tige and emotional value which a hoary tradition gives, with
intelligent selection, modern, scientific knowledge, and spiritual
insight. As will be seen, this is no easy task, and the success of
the undertaking must depend upon the wisdom of the teacher.
In this respect the Central Hindu College is most fortunate in
1 The First General Report of the Ramakrishna Mission [Belur, 1913], p.
27. Cf. Vivekananda's address on "The True Method of Social Reform":
" To the reformers I will point out that I am a greater reformer than any one
of them. They want to reform only little bits. I want root and branch
reform. Where we differ is exactly in the method. Theirs is the method of
destruction, mine is that of construction. I do not believe in reform: I
believe in growth." (Speeches and Writings, Madras, p. 619). See also some
very sensible remarks on female education in the Prabuddha Bharata for
November, 1914. I84

REFORM MOVEMENTS WITHIN HINDUISM
having a man like Babu Bhagavan Das to mould the philo
sophical and religious views of the young men under his charge.
It is his constant endeavor to make his students dissatisfied
with a merely slavish following of Hindu customs, and to pierce
beyond the external form and ask in every case the reason why;
and then, having discovered the rationale of each ruling custom,
to apply it intelligently to the conduct of modern life.
The Central Hindu College is at present a part of the Alla
habad University. But it will probably soon be changed into
the Hindu University of Benares; for which large funds are
coming in from generous Hindus all over India. The Maharaja
of Benares has given a large tract of land for the site of the
University, at Ramnagar on the Ganges, just outside of Be
nares; and Sir Harcourt Butler, the Education Member of the
Indian Government, has introduced a bill into the Viceroy's
Legislative Council, granting a charter to the proposed uni
versity. "The main features of this University," according to
Sir Harcourt Butler, "which distinguish it from the existing
universities will be first that it will be a teaching and residen
tial university [not merely one that conducts examinations
and directs the work of its colleges, as is the case with the pres
ent universities of India]; secondly, that while it will be open
to all castes and creeds it will insist upon religious instruction
for the Hindu students; and thirdly, that it will be conducted
and managed by the Hindu community and almost entirely
by non-officials." l The university, moreover, is to be open
not only to all castes and creeds but to both sexes. And while
one clause of its charter provides that Hindu theology and
religion shall be required subjects for Hindu students, accord
ing to another clause Jainism and Sikhism are to be taught to
Jaina and Sikh students if funds are subscribed for that pur
pose by those religious communities.
In other parts of India beside Benares other individuals are
working at the same great problem of religious education.
One of these is the poet, Rabindranath Tagore. Many West
erners would probably be surprised to learn that the prin
cipal occupation of the man who won the Nobel Prize is
not writing poetry but running a school. The great need of
1 Reported in The Indian Social Reformer for March 28, 1915.
185

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
his country, as he sees it, he told me, is the achievement of
inner and social freedom; and the one hope for the attainment
of this goal is the development of a greater spiritual insight
among the leaders of thought and an extension of this down
ward through them to all ranks of society. In other words,
the immediate problem is the education of the right kind of
leaders. It is an enormous task, and to do his share in it he has
founded a school for boys from five to eighteen years of age.
He lectures to the older boys on religion and philosophy, try
ing to communicate to them the spirit of the Upanishads. His
assistant teachers he has educated himself, and the annual
deficit of the school he pays out of his own funds.1 At first
his opposition to caste made it difficult for him to get students,
but now he has about two hundred of them (mostly Brahmins)
and could get more if he could afford to enlarge his institution.
The school is situated in the country 2 at some distance from
Calcutta, and only boarders are taken; for his aim is not to
teach courses, but to mould character, and so he insists on
having the opportunity of influencing his boys twenty-four
hours in the day. The classes are all held out of doors, under
the trees, and the boys are very happy, entering into the spirit
of the school and being in fact a self-governing body. It is to
centers like this that Tagore looks for the ultimate regeneration
of India.
I have named this chapter "Reform Movements within Hin
duism"; but I should at least mention, before closing it, that
great new tendency within Hinduism for defense as well as re
form. The Ramakrishna Mission, of course, aims at both, as
does also the Arya Samaj, which we shall study in the next chap
ter. In fact most of the modern movements of Hinduism blend
both these aims, though with varying emphasis. And many of
the religious tendencies which are rousing the interests of thou
sands of Hindus have for their chief purpose the revival of the
old religion rather than its reform. Most Westerners would be
1 According to Basanta Koomer Roy, " Tagore has given the Nobel Prize
money to the school, and the royalties on his books have been consecrated
for the same purpose." (Rabindranath Tagore, the Man and His Poetry
[New York, Dodd, Mead & Co., 1915], p. 175.)
2 At Bolepore. 186

REFORM MOVEMENTS WITHIN HINDUISM
astonished to see the intense interest in religious topics, the
avidity in seizing upon new ideas, — or new forms of old ideas, —
in short, the inner and spiritual commotion with which India
to-day is seething. The land teems with religious and social
conferences and congresses. In nearly all the sub-sects into
which Hinduism is divided there are small groups of earnest
men who are endeavoring to revivify the old teachings and
customs; and many of the castes have yearly conferences in
which unity, defense, and sometimes reform are eagerly dis
cussed. The spirit of Nationalism has awakened, and with
a large number it has been identified with the defense of the
national religion. Hinduism is becoming, for the first time in
its history, thoroughly self-conscious.1
In our last chapter we saw that Hinduism was decaying.
And so in one sense it is. Its idolatry, its polytheism, its
shradda rites, its externalism cannot long stand before the
attacks of modern knowledge. Many of the organizations re
ferred to above, to be sure, aim at the defense of just these
ancient customs and beliefs; but the very attempt to discuss
these matters means the introduction of a certain amount of
reason, and reason will inevitably make the baser and more
superstitious elements of Hinduism increasingly unacceptable
to intelligent Indians.2 Very suggestive in this connection is
1 It may be in part due to this new life within Hinduism that, whereas in
the decade 1891-1901, its numbers decreased by .28 per cent, in the decade
1901-11 they increased at the rate of 5 per cent. Typical of the new spirit
and the growing self-conscious unity of Hinduism was the formation, in
1902, of the Bharata Dharma Mahamandala, an organization in which united
various conservative Hindu societies. In the first eight years of its existence
it gained recognition as representative of the whole Hindu community from
the various heads of the chief Hindu sects and orders. "Some 600 branches
had been opened, and about 400 institutions had been affiliated. Nearly
200 preachers were employed; a considerable literature had been put into
circulation; and large sums of money had been subscribed." (Farquhar,
Modern Religious Movements, p. 319.)
1 In this connection the following extract from an account of a confer
ence of old-fashioned Brahmins at Beerbhoom, in April, 1915, will be found
illuminating as well as typical. "The total number of the assembly was
more than 2,000. Proceedings began with Vedic hymns and stotras recited
by a band of young Brahmacharis. Questions were then discussed relat
ing to practical measures for the prevention of compulsory dowries; for
the Shastric education of Brahmin boys and priests, for the preservation
of Hindu institutions, including the maintenance of temples, excavation
of tanks, and preservation of cows and pasturage; greater dissemination of
I87

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
the stand recently taken by that pillar of Hindu conservatism
and orthodoxy, Sir Subrahmanya Iyer. In spite of his love
for the ancient Dharma — or rather, perhaps, because of it —
he came out in January of this year with an article on the "New
Hinduism" in which he says: "The conditions of Hindu soci
ety to-day are, it is to be regretted, such as to make the hope
of the future lie not in any tinkering with this and that part
of the existing structure in its present dilapidated state, but
in removing with an unsparing hand the poisonous weedy
growth and the entire debris under which lie buried the pri
meval foundations of Hinduism, and upon them to erect a
new and simpler edifice of just such proportions and utility as
are needed for our present demands." Among the "poison
ous growths" which he would remove he includes idol wor
ship, child marriage, and the caste system. The really sacred
scriptures of Hinduism he would have clearly marked off from
the many valueless writings that lay claim to this title, and
the more important of these sacred books he would put, in
English translation, within the reach of all Hindus. And he
would call Hinduism back from its many gods and their images
to the universal recognition of the one Absolute and Un
manifested Brahman, and to the worship of the Manifested
Brahman and of Him alone.1
It is probable that in spite of Sir Subrahmanya and his more
radical juniors, the ancient customs and beliefs will keep their
hold for centuries over the masses of ignorant Hindus. But,
as every year makes more evident, the steadily growing num
bers of the educated cannot be satisfied with them indefinitely.
Does this mean that Hinduism is doomed? The answer to this
question will depend largely on the success of reform move-
Hindu ideas of religion and morality among Brahmins; preparation of re
ligious textbooks for Hindu students, and starting students' boarding
houses under the supervision and control of Brahmin Sabhas. On both
days Brahmins from distant parts of Beerbhoom and the adjoining districts
came in on foot in very large numbers in spite of the extreme heat, and mani
fested intense enthusiasm and religious fervor. The people of the locality
showed great veneration for the assembly, and immediately after the close
of each sitting collected the dust of the feet of the Brahmins left on the
sheets covering the ground, rushing in hundreds into the pandal." (The
Indian Social Reformer for April 25, 1915.)
1 See The Indian Social Reformer for February 7 and 14, 1915-
188

REFORM MOVEMENTS WITHIN HINDUISM
ments such as those studied in this and the following chapter.
If the reforms fail, we may expect intelligent Hindus to accept
in increasing numbers a rationalized Christianity — or to fall
in ever-growing throngs into a flippant agnosticism. But it is
possible that just as a more liberal and more human Chris
tianity is growing out of scholasticism and Calvinism, so a new
and purified Hinduism may develop out of what was best in
the ancient Dharma. The outcome is uncertain, but the prob
lem for the enlightened is plain. It is a question of national
spiritual education. And the one feature in the present situa
tion that seems really promising from the Hindu standpoint is
the fact, already alluded to, that Hinduism — yes, that India
— is at last gradually becoming conscious of itself. To increase
this self-consciousness and to raise aloft a purified but truly
Indian ideal is the aim and task of the reformers.

CHAPTER X
THE BRAHMO SAMAJ AND THE ARYA SAMAJ
OF all the Indian reform movements the one best known in
the West, and in fact the only one well known in the
West, is the Brahmo Samaj.1 Its leaders have been consider
ably influenced by Western ideas, and (partly in consequence)
the West has been considerably interested in their work.
Hence in Western discussions of contemporary religious con
ditions in India the Brahmo Samaj usually assumes an im
portance out of all proportion to its membership and actual
influence in India. Yet it must be admitted that this influence
has been remarkable considering the paucity of its membeifS.
It was founded in 1828 2 by Ram Mohun Roy, a learned and
spiritual Bengalee, who by a prolonged study of Hinduism,
Mohammedanism, and Christianity became convinced that
the essential truth for which each stands is the same truth, and
that on this common foundation a Universal Theistic Church
might be erected, in which all men might ultimately find mem
bership. Ram Mohun Roy was not only a scholarly and re
ligious man; he was a man of the world and had wide-awake
human interests and exhibited considerable practical effi
ciency. The primal impulse in the Indian movement for social
reform which is so widespread to-day came largely from hini.
It was to a great extent through his efforts that widow-burn
ing was given up and that modern education was extended
throughout Bengal. A little over two years after the found
ing of the Samaj, Ram Mohun Roy went to England for a
visit — as he planned ; but while there he was taken ill, and
died in September, 1833.
For some years after the death of its founder the Samaj
1 "The Church of God."
' It was not until 1830 that it received its present name and had a church
building of its own. In 1828 it had the name "Brahmo Sabha" and its
meetings were held in a rented house.
190

BRAHMO SAMAJ AND ARYA SAMAJ
suffered a considerable relapse. It was kept alive during
these lean years chiefly by the backing of Prince Dwarakanath
Tagore, of Calcutta, until in 1841 fresh spiritual enthusiasm
was brought into it by Tagore's son, Devendranath Tagore,
of whom mention has several times been made in previous
chapters. He had passed through a marked religious experi
ence three years before, as a result of his first reading of
the Upanishads, and had founded a theistic and anti-idola
trous society of his own, which eventually merged with the
Brahmo Samaj. From the time this young man joined the
Samaj, with his group of enthusiastic followers, he became its
spiritual head and soon also the sole trustee of its property,
and for years thereafter his will was the governing power of
the society. His ideal was that the Samaj should be essen
tially Hindu, — though strictly monotheistic and opposed to
idolatry, — and that it should be first of all a religious body,
with social reform as only a very secondary aim. It was to
feed the spiritual life and to feed it with the food to be derived
from the best of the Indian religious tradition. "The Jewish
and its offshoot the Christian conceptions of God, heaven,
and salvation seemed to him to be so anthropomorphic and
shallow that he passed them by with silent contempt, and de
voutly turned to the Hindu conception of God as immanent
in matter and mind. His solemn conviction was that in mat
ters spiritual the Hindus had no need to turn to the West;
rather the West had much to learn from the East." 1
Early in Tagore's leadership a controversy arose between
some of the members of the Samaj and certain Christian mis
sionaries, during the course of which the former asserted that
the religion of the Samaj was based upon the Vedas and that
the Vedas were infallible. This indeed seems at first to have
been Tagore's opinion. The more rationalistic members of the
Samaj, however, had decided doubts on this point, and as a
consequence a controversy arose on the question of infallibil
ity. One of the most interesting things about this controversy
is that it transpired that neither party had ever read more than
a small part of the Vedas or had any clear idea what they con
tained, and that Tagore, with his usual patient good sense,
1 Shivanath Shastri, History of the Brahmo Samaj, vol. 1, p. 188.
191

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
kept an open mind on the question and sent four young mem
bers of the Samaj to Benares to study the Vedas with com
petent teachers. After two years the emissaries returned ; and
when Tagore had learned from them what the Vedas really
taught, and had verified their report by going to Benares him
self and holding a long interview with the most learned pun
dits, the doctrine of the infallibility of the Vedas was definitely
given up. This, however, did not mean that the Samaj should
cease to be Hindu, or that the belief in the general inspiration
of the Vedas and especially of the Upanishads should be dis
carded. The Upanishads were still held to be inspired in part,
with a human element intermingled ; — the extreme monistic
passages in the tone of Shankara's philosophy being regarded
as emphatically not inspired. For the devotional needs of the
society Tagore, therefore, compiled a kind of eclectic scripture
from various theistic passages in the Upanishads, and called it
the "Brahma Dharma" 1 — a compilation which the Samaj
to-day regards as one of his greatest achievements.
In 1857 a young man joined the Samaj who was destined to
play a great r61e in its history, namely, Keshub Chunder Sen.
Mr. Sen, — or as he is more commonly known, Keshub, —
though brought up in a deeply religious Brahmin family, was
considerably influenced by Christianity, and his study for
years after joining the Samaj increased his enthusiastic ad
miration for Jesus. Devendranath Tagore soon recognized
his earnestness and religious zeal, and his ability as a leader
and inspirer of men, and gave him a large share in directing
the activities of the Samaj. Keshub brought into the society a
great enthusiasm for reform and a kind of evangelical religious
spirit which kindled the hearts of many young men to devotion
and sacrifice for the cause of liberal and inward religion. Ta
gore cooperated with his young follower most heartily; edu
cational movements were started, missionaries and wandering
preachers were sent to various parts of Bengal and even to
the Punjab, Bombay,2 and Madras, and branch societies were
1 See his own interesting account of this in his autobiography
! The branch of the Samaj founded under Sen's influence in Bombay in
1867 became the Prarthna Samaj, which has done such excellent work for
the outcastes. 192

BRAHMO SAMAJ AND ARYA SAMAJ
founded in many centers. But before many years it became
evident that the conservative and radical elements in the
Samaj could not permanently pull together. The older men
wished to keep "Brahmanism" a branch of Hinduism, and
looked askance at Keshub 's Christian leanings and especially
at his reforming ideals; while the followers of Keshub — al
most all young men under twenty-five — were eager to make
Brahmanism a universal religion and the Samaj a center of
radical social reforms. The storm finally broke in 1864, when
the most radical of the younger men demanded that the Samaj
place itself squarely against the caste system by discharging
from the office of minister all those who still retained the
Brahmanical triple cord. The older men accepted the issue
and forced Tagore to choose between radicalism and conserva
tism. His heart seems to have been with Keshub, but he
thought that duty pointed the other way, so he stood by the
older men. Keshub and his followers remained nominally
within the Samaj till 1867, when they went out and founded a
society of their own, called the "Brahmo Samaj of India" —
the older branch from now on being distinguished by the title
the "Adi [or Original] Brahmo Samaj." x It was characteristic
of the young Bengalee enthusiasts who founded the new Samaj
that in their meeting for organization none of the mundane
subjects which usually take up men's thoughts at such a time
were considered. They passed many resolutions, but they
quite forgot to elect officers. "Thus," as Shivanath Shastri
rather humorously observes, "the Brahmo Samaj of India was
ushered into existence with no governing body, no rules, no
constitution, but with God above as President and Keshub
Chunder Sen as its virtual secretary." 2
If God above was the President of the new Samaj, the "vir
tual secretary" was regarded by most of the members (and by
1 The schism was a hard blow for old Devendranath Tagore, and the
criticism which his action received from some of the younger men was not
easy to bear. But he acted throughout in the spirit of selflessness taught by
his religion, and never defended his actions against criticism. He wrote an
autobiography, but brought it to a close at the year when Keshub joined
the Samaj so that he need not enter into any self-defense in the matter of
the schism. He died in 1899.
' Op. cit., vol. 1, p. 180.
193

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
himself) as standing on terms of peculiar intimacy with the
President and as being His spokesman on all important ques
tions. Some of his followers regarded Keshub as a kind of
God-man and paid him reverence approaching almost to wor
ship; and there can be no doubt that Keshub, though not ap
proving of this, did regard himself at times as peculiarly in
spired. Not all the members of the Brahmo Samaj of India
shared in this adulation of their leader, and the antagonism
between these two groups was a source of weakness for the
Samaj, and eventually led to the second great schism. Much,
however, was done by it, especially in its earlier years. Mis
sionaries continued to be sent out and new branches organ
ized. By the year 1878 the number of these branches had
risen to 124. Nor did Keshub forget that his ideals for the
Samaj included more than individual religion. It was charac
teristic of the man that he founded his new society on a prac
tical and social issue. Christianity seems to have influenced
him quite as much as Hinduism; and it was but natural that
the practical needs of suffering India should have for him a
powerful appeal and that he should throw himself and his so
ciety into the battle against various social evils, such as child
marriage and the caste system, with an enthusiasm and a force
that have made an indelible mark on Indian history. It was
through his efforts that a law was passed in 1872 making
possible a new form of marriage which should be neither
Hindu, Mohammedan, nor Christian, and by means of which
a man and a woman of different castes might be married and
no idol be used in the ceremony. One of the excellent stipula
tions of this law was that this form of marriage could not be
made use of unless the man were at least sixteen and the wo
man at least fourteen. This law, of course, had no bearing on
the marriage of Hindus, who could still marry their children at
any age ; but at least it was a first step in the right direction.
But alas for our poor human courage and consistency. After
fighting so splendidly against the evils of child marriage and
accomplishing so much for it, the leader and hero of the pro
gressive Samaj in 1878 gave his own daughter in marriage at
the age of thirteen years and a few months.1 And when he
1 The inconsistency was not so glaring as it seems on a mere recital.
194

BRAHMO SAMAJ AND ARYA SAMAJ
refused to retire from the pulpit as requested to do by a ma
jority of the members, these left him and went out to found a
new society called the "Sadharana [or universal] Brahmo
Samaj." All three Samajes are still existing side by side, and all have
their headquarters in Calcutta.1 They have a committee
made up of representatives from all three divisions for certain
purposes: but there is no immediate prospect of further union.
This is a rather sad result considering the noble aims of the
movement and the lofty minds that have lived and labored
for it; in view also of the fact that in all India the three Sa
majes together number but 5500 members, and that on the
essentials of belief and moral aim they are almost at one.
The Brahmo Samaj teaches, as the Order of Ramakrishna
does, that there is some truth in every religion. But it differs
from the latter on the question of what this truth is. The
followers of Ramakrishna make this vital core of all religions
(once they are understood) to consist in the Vedanta philoso
phy. The Samaj substitutes for the Vedanta three simple be
liefs: (1) That there is but One God, "the First Without a
Second"; (2) that the soul has before it an endless progress;
(3) that worship or realization of God is the duty of man.
Though direct antagonism to the Vedanta is not part of the
Keshub's daughter was betrothed to a local Raja who it was thought (and
the expectation proved correct) could be won over entirely to the Samaj by
this union, with perhaps a considerable following of his people. The Raja
refused to wait any longer for his bride, and his family also insisted on the
marriage being celebrated in Hindu fashion (in the presence of an idol).
Keshub insisted on having a "Brahmo" marriage ceremony in addition;
and also refused to allow his daughter to live with her husband as wife till
she had reached her fourteenth birthday. Hence he regarded the matter as
a form only, and for the sake of winning the Raja and his following to the
Samaj he thought this exception might be made. His opponents, of course,
pointed out that it was forms they were fighting, and that one exception,
especially if made by a man of influence, may lead to many.
1 The "Sadharana Brahmo Samaj " is by far the largest of the three and
in fact is the only one that retains much influence. The " Brahmo Samaj of
India " had an interesting history so long as its leader lived. It was renamed
by him "The Church of the New Dispensation " — for he regarded himself
as divinely inspired, and the movement which he led he considered a con
tinuation of the work of Christ, and (apparently) quite on a par with it in
inspiration and importance. On Keshub's death no one could wear his
mantle, and the "Brahmo Samaj of India" quickly disintegrated. It is at
present split into four bodies who cannot agree to unite.
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INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
official creed of the Samaj, most of its members are thoroughly
opposed to it. They find the Vedanta not only intellectually
unsatisfactory, but morally harmful.1
In like manner the Brahmo Samaj (in contrast to the Rama
krishna movement and to the Theosophical Society) has alto
gether broken with every form of polytheism and of idolatry
and does not hesitate to attack them both. But while agreeing
thus closely with Christianity and Islam in their monotheism,
the Brahmo Samaj parts company with the former in its view
of incarnation, and with both in their belief in authority and
special and exclusive revelations. Each man must be free to
find and see the truth for himself. The truth is not bound and
the truth is not provincial, nor did God reveal Himself once
and then cease to communicate with men. The Brahmo Sa
maj, though rejecting the Vedanta, has retained the universal
Indian faith, so wonderfully expressed in the Upanishads, of
the union of the soul with God. The God of the Brahmoist is
no "infinite and eternal Energy from which all things proceed,"
nor is He an absolute Creator of the eighteenth-century type.
He is closer to us than breathing, "nearer than hands and
feet." The Brahmoists lay a great deal of emphasis on the
possibility of this "loving communion with the Supreme" and
the consequent "duty of habitual communion." According to
their teaching, this immediate realization of the Divine is the
very fountain of life and life's supreme goal, as well as the
source of an unfailing faith in a life that shall be endless.
1 "Under the influence of Vedantism," writes the leader of the "Uni
versal Brahmo Samaj," "the theory of maya or illusion has been invented,
which looks upon society and its relations as so many snares, the greatest
wisdom of an aspirant for final deliverance lying in shunning them. This
anti-social philosophy has done an incalculable amount of harm in this
country. It has drawn away into the life of mendicancy hundreds of spir
itually disposed persons, and thereby robbed society of their personal
influence and example, and has led many others ... to pine away in life by
looking upon the world as a prison-house. It has checked the spirit of phil
anthropy as a part of religious exercise, and has made the cast of Hinduism
somber and melancholy. It is the mission of the Theistic Church of India
to raise Hinduism and Hindu society from this somber and gloomy view of
life and this tainting touch of Vedantism by teaching that human society is
a divine dispensation, and all its relationships are sacred and spiritual.'
Shivanath Shastri, The Mission of the Brahmo Samaj (Calcutta, Kuntaline
Press, 1910), pp. 50-51. I96

BRAHMO SAMAJ AND ARYA SAMAJ
But the Brahmo Samaj has absorbed so much of the spirit
of Jesus that it cannot stop here, but goes on as He did to
apply the love of God to the help of man. It has not indeed
done all it might or should have done for the great need of
its native land. It is on the whole rather more pietistic and
Indian than helpful and Christian. And yet it has done some
thing; and particularly in the matters of marriage reform and
the destruction of caste it has shown a courage and at times
an active energy quite uncommon in India. And this is true
not only of the society as such, but of its members as individ
uals. In two of the three branches of the Samaj one must
break with caste before he can become a member. Whoever
knows India will recognize that to do this must at times in
volve no little heroism, no little suffering and sacrifice in the
cause of an ideal. In illustration of this let me repeat very
briefly the story of his own experience which the venerable
leader of the "Universal Brahmo Samaj," Mr. Shivanath
Shastri, told me.
He was seventeen when he determined to join the Brahmo
Samaj and to break his triple cord. His father begged him not
to do so, then forbade, then threatened. But the young man
steadfastly answered, " I love you, father, but in this I cannot
obey you." So he broke his triple cord and joined the Samaj,
as his conscience would not permit him to do otherwise. His
father thereupon disowned him, refused to see him, had him
driven from the house and notified him he should never return
to it again or attempt to see his mother. The poor woman, of
course, was utterly wretched over it, so the young man occa
sionally crept in by stealth, when his father was away, to see
his mother for a few minutes, and "take the dust from her
feet," putting it on his head according to the Indian custom.
Learning of these visits, the father employed two men to lie in
wait for his son and beat him whenever he visited his mother.
These floggings went on for a period of five years, until in fact
the strain was so great that it began to break down his mother's
health, when the men were at last discharged. But for nine
teen years the father never spoke to his son or allowed him in
his presence. And all the while, with hearts half-broken, father
and son kept on loving each other. It was only at the age of
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INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
seventy-five, and then apparently on his death-bed, that the
old man saw his son again and his pride melted at last.
Mr. Shastri is only one of many members of the Brahmo
Samaj who have gone through trials like this for the sake of the
faith that is in them and for the coming good of India. And
results have justified their sacrifice. By devotion such as this,
they have been able to build up in various parts of India little
communities free from the shackles of caste which are as shin
ing lights in the darkness of slavery to tradition and self-im
posed misery all about them. It was our good fortune while in
India to attend the eighty-fourth anniversary of the founding
of the Brahmo Samaj in Calcutta, and to see there an object-
lesson in this hardly won freedom. The day was celebrated
by what we might call a children's party and picnic in the
meeting-house and grounds of the Samaj. The children, with
many of their parents and older sisters, assembled in the hall
used for preaching services, and here they were entertained
for some time by short talks and good stories. Many of the
older girls came up to our venerable friend, Mr. Shastri, and
"took the dust from his feet," and he introduced them with
pride as being eighteen or more and still unmarried and in
school (!). After a little we all adjourned into the grounds,
and there in many rows all the children sat down (Indian fash
ion) to a little feast. It was one of the most beautiful sights
that I saw in India — no thought of caste, no fear of eating
with your neighbor, no questioning who had drawn the water,
no dread of defilement from some vile " untouchable "near by;
all enjoying together the pleasant food, the fresh air, and the
flowers, in the sunlight of God's love who made of one flesh
all the children of men. It was a vision of what might be all
over sad India if the Brahmo Samaj and the Christian mission
ary could win the day.
Unfortunately there is little sign of the Brahmo Samaj win
ning much of the day. Its membership, as I have said, is very
small and not noticeably increasing. Its members are sadly
divided and there is a reactionary party within it which favors
something like a compromise with Hinduism. Moreover, in
social work it is not so active as it should be — not even so
active as it once was. Yet it is doing something to attack the,
198

BRAHMO SAMAJ AND ARYA SAMAJ
evils of Hindu society and to spread its message of universal
theism and brotherly love. This it does chiefly by schools for
the young — for it takes good care at least that its children
shall be brought up with an intelligent appreciation of their
religion. It also has weekly preaching services and forms of
public worship modeled after those of Protestant Christian
churches. For the spread of its doctrine it has several publi
cations, and it supports a few missionaries in various parts of
the peninsula. And in spite of their small numbers the Brah
moists are hopeful — for, as they put it, he who has the truth
on his side is always hopeful. But the leaders of the movement
are too wise to suppose that all the world will some day come
and join the Brahmo Samaj. They recognize the distinction
between the universal and the local or national in religion and
they realize that each has its place and each may be helpful.
Even within India they recognize that local differences will
always survive among the various religious bodies of the land.
"But each and all of these bodies" (this is the hope) "will
agree in the universal aspects of the faith, in loving commu
nion with the Supreme, in the abjuration of idolatry, in social
ity and morality, in spiritual independence, in freedom from
the errors of incarnation and mediation, and in the spirit of
true catholicity. Thus the universal and the national will be
combined in one faith and practice. In special reverences and
preferences also there will be widely varying attitudes. The
theists of India will naturally look up to the Rishis mainly as
sources of inspiration; the theistic congregations of the West
will draw their spiritual sustenance from the life and teachings
of Jesus ; whereas theistic bodies brought up under the influence
of Islam will naturally turn for their spiritual edification
chiefly to the Arabian Prophet. Thus will all the modern
faiths, divested of their peculiarly sectarian narrowness, come
and mingle in a mighty confluence which in essential features
will be natural and universal theism. That is the goal toward
which we are pushing on." x
The Arya Samaj, or Church of the Aryas, is considerably
younger and also much larger than the Brahmo Samaj . It is, in
fact, by far the largest of the various native reform move-
1 The Mission of the Brahmo Samaj, pp. 107-08.
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INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
ments of India — if indeed we may include under reform
movements an organization which regards itself as the most
conservative and truly reactionary society in the world. The
Arya Samaj was founded in 1875 by a man who in learning and
earnest zeal for his country's welfare resembled Ram Mohun
Roy, but who in other ways was in marked contrast to him.
The founder of the Brahmo Samaj, as we have seen, was a man
of European education who had made a deep study of both
Mohammedanism and Christianity and who conceived of a
universal religion which in its larger aspect should have no
touch of provincialism or nationality. Swami Dayanand, on
the other hand, was an Indian of the Indians, a sannyasi of the
old type, who knew but little about the culture and religion of
the West, and cared less, and whose ideals were altogether
bounded by the traditions of his land. He too dreamed of a
universal religion; but this universal religion was to be simply
the ancient religion of his own country, which, since it was the
only true religion, ought to be adopted by all the world.
"Dayanand" was not the original name of this rather re
markable man.1 He kept his name concealed for years after he
left home, so that his father might not be able to find him; and
adopted in its stead the name "Dayanand" by which he has
been known ever since. For when he was about twenty-one he
had run away from his parents in order to avoid being married,
his great desire being to give himself up to the celibate, reli
gious life of a Brahmachari, and to seek out, by means of an
cient books and his own reflection and experience, the pathway
to salvation. Even as a boy he had become thoroughly skep
tical of the value of puja to idols (though his father was an
enthusiastic worshiper in the temple of Shiva), and the older
he grew the more disgusted he became with the whole practice.
For years he wandered through the length and breadth of
India, visiting learned men and making himself thoroughly
conversant with the sacred Sanskrit literature. And at Ma-
thura he came upon a great Vedic scholar named Swami Virja-
nand, who strengthened in him the belief toward which he was
already tending, and which was destined to be the foundation
1 His original name was Mul Shankar — a fact which came out only
after his death. 200

BRAHMO SAMAJ AND ARYA SAMAJ
principle of the Arya Samaj. For the Swami's first instruc
tion to him was to "drown" all his modern books in the river.
And when Swami Virjanand died, and Dayanand 's real mission
began, he went up and down the land preaching a purer Hindu
ism with the cry ever on his lips, Back to the Vedas!
Swami Dayanand Saraswati (for that was his full name,
given him when he was made a sannyasi) was a man of unusual
gifts and great learning, and (if we may believe the accounts of
his followers) he usually got the better of the pundits whom he
was constantly challenging to public discussion. He was gifted
with great physical powers and lectured with untiring energy to
the crowds who came to hear him, from morning to night. His
usual subjects of discourse were the folly and sin of idolatry,
polytheism, and pantheism, and the untrustworthiness of most
of the so-called sacred books of India except the Vedas and the
older Shastras. He got a considerable following in several of
the cities of the Punjab, the United Provinces, and Bombay,
and in 1875 he began forming these into a society known as
the "Arya Samaj." He died in 1883. The Rev. C. F. Andrews,
in his book "The Indian Renaissance," writes of him as fol
lows: "For Dayanand's personality and character there may
well be almost unqualified admiration. He was a puritan to
the backbone, and lived up to his creed. He was a fighter,
strong, virile, independent, if somewhat imperious in behavi
our. . . . His courage in facing his own countrymen through
years of contumely and persecution was nothing less than
heroic. He was a passionate lover of truth." x
The teachings of the Samaj are of course the teachings of its
founder, based upon his ten or more books and pamphlets, his
lectures and his method of interpreting the scriptures. The
most fundamental of these teachings, as has been said, are the
doctrines that there is but one God and that the Vedas are ab
solutely authoritative and nothing else is. By the Vedas the
Samaj understands only the hymns or "Samhita" of the four
Vedas. The Brahmanas and ten of the Upanishads, together
with Manu and a few other ancient books, are regarded as use
ful and worthy of veneration, but are not considered to be in-
1 Quoted by Lajpat Rai in The Arya Samaj (London, Longmans, 1915),
p. 281. 201

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
spired or authoritative. They were written by wise and pious
Rishis of old, but did not come from God Himself; and thus for
the Arya Samaj they occupy much the same position as is held
in Christianity by the writings of the Church Fathers. The
Veda, on the other hand, is eternal and comes from God Him
self.1 He inspired it at the beginning of creation in the hearts
of four great Rishis. They did not originate it, but acted
merely as channels through which the four eternal Vedas —
which are really one — were communicated to men. The Veda
is not only eternal and absolutely authoritative. It is "com
prehensive and perfect, free from all error, and incapable of
being amended or of becoming obsolete in part or in whole." 2
It is from the Vedas that all human knowledge, directly or indi
rectly, is derived. "As people inhabiting some immense forest
have all the instincts and ways of brutes, even such instincts
and ways would all mankind have retained from the beginning
of creation to the present time, if the Vedas had not been re
vealed to them." 3
It is evident that our Western upholders of the literal in
spiration of the Bible have still something to learn from these
Indian exegetes. And the mote one listens to their claims, the
more one's wonder grows. The Vedic religion, it seems, was
the primitive religion of all the world. "All the people believed
in it," says Dayanand, "and regarded one another like their
second self." For in those good old times there was easy com
munication between all parts of the earth ; and we have it on
Dayanand's authority that the kings of India contracted
matrimonial alliances with the kings of America. Nor need one
wonder at this, for steam and electricity and all so-called
modern discoveries and inventions were known at least in
germ in the Vedic days and in fact are all revealed (to the eye
of faith) within the Veda. Of course these brave assertions
require for their confirmation an equally courageous method
of interpretation. To the ignorant Western reader the Rig
Veda seems to teach plainly the existence of many gods, the
1 This doctrine, of course, is not original with Dayanand, but has been
the orthodox Indian view for thousands of years.
2 Bawa Chhajju Singh, The Teaching of the Arya Samaj (Lahore, Punjab
Printing Works, 1903), p. 101.
1 Quoted by Bawa Chhajju Singh from Dayanand, p. 90.
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BRAHMO SAMAJ AND ARYA SAMAJ
Atharva seems to be full of primitive, superstitious, magical
conceptions, and all four seem to have about as much relation
to science as has the story of Jack the Giant Killer. I hinted at
something of the sort to one of the most influential and learned
members of the Samaj, — a gentleman of very considerable
culture and ability whom I met in Lahore. He answered
with a smile that things might naturally seem so to one who
knew no Sanskrit or to European Sanskritists who came to
the study of the Vedas with Western prejudices; that as a
fact all European translations of the Vedas were bad mis-
transjations; that there were no magical formulas in the
Atharva nor any hint of polytheism in the Rik; and that what
ever in the text of the Vedas seemed to be polytheistic, false, or
magical must be taken as a symbolical expression of a deeper
truth. This last sentence of my informant gives the real Arya
method of interpretation: granted first of all that the Veda
teaches only what is true, everything in it that seems to be
mistaken must be either a "late interpolation" or a symbol
merely of the real but hidden meaning.1
According to Dayanand and the Arya Samaj, then, there is
but one God, who is spiritual and personal. Polytheism and
the use of images are regarded as vile degenerations from the
original pure monotheistic worship of the Vedas, and they are
attacked and ridiculed on every occasion. The One God is
eternal; but so also are matter and all finite souls. God did not
create matter; but there is a succession of endless cycles, and at
the beginning of each God creates the world out of the pre
existing matter.
Dayanand is an enthusiastic upholder of the traditional
Indian belief in transmigration and Karma, and naturally has
no difficulty in finding ample authority for it in the Vedas (a
thing no European critic has ever been able to do). The soul
that has obtained release from Karma is not (as the Vedanta
teaches) absorbed in God. "She keeps her individual existence
and moves about at liberty without any impediment in God,
1 That men of such learning, ability, and liberal ideas as are many of the
members of the Arya Samaj should entertain views such as these on the
nature of the scriptures and the proper interpretation thereof would seem a
psychological puzzle, if we were not familiar with any number of examples
of the same sort of thing much nearer home.
203

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
who pervades all, with her happiness and knowledge per
fected." x The means of salvation are, according to Dayanand,
the following: "Obedience to God's commandments; freedom
from irreligion [vice] ; freedom from ignorance, from bad com
pany, from evil thoughts or associations, and from improper
sensuousness or indulgence in wicked pleasures; veracity,
beneficence, knowledge, impartial justice, devotion to the
cause of virtue or religion, remembering God, praying to Him,
meditating on Him, or introspection, acquiring knowledge,
teaching, any honest profession, the advancement of knowl
edge, the adoption of righteous means in affairs, doing every
thing with impartiality, equity, and righteousness." 2
It will be seen from this that for Dayanand and his follow
ers, religion and morality are very closely associated, and that
in fact the great means of salvation are the culture of the soul
and the performance of one's duty. This comes out again very
clearly in the "The Principles of the Arya Samaj," which I
append in a note.3 The moral trend of the whole movement is
indeed very strong, and it has resulted not only in individual
morality, but in a considerable amount of effort in philan-
1 Dayanand, Satyarth Prakash (English translation, Lahore, Virjanand
Press, 1908), p. 260.
2 Ibid., p. 260.
* 1. God is the Primary Source of all True Knowledge and all that is
known by its means.
2. God is All-Truth, All-Knowledge, and Happiness itself, Incorporeal,
Almighty, Just, Merciful, Unbegotten, Infinite, Unchangeable, Without a
Beginning, Incomparable, All-supporting, The Lord of All, All-pervading,
Omniscient, Imperishable, Immortal, Fearless, Eternal, Holy, and the
Cause of the Universe. To Him alone Worship is due.
3. The Veda is the Book of True Knowledge, and it is the duty of all
Aryas to study, teach, recite, and hear it.
4. One should always be ready to accept Truth and renounce Falsehood.
5. Duty determined after due consideration of right and wrong should be
the basic principle of all our activities.
6. To benefit the world is the chief object of the Arya Samaj ; i.e., to effect
physical, spiritual, and social improvement.
7. Love, Righteousness, and Propriety should be the guiding principles
in our dealing with others.
8. We ought to eradicate ignorance and propagate knowledge.
9. No one should rest contented with his individual improvement but
should consider his own improvement in that of others.
10. In all affairs that affect the well-being of society at large the individ
ual is unfree, but in strictly personal matters he may have his own way.
204

BRAHMO SAMAJ AND ARYA SAMAJ
thropy and for social reform. It has for years been the leader
of Hindu activity in the founding of orphanages, — with the
twofold aim of saving children from starvation and from
Christianity. In the great famines of 1897-98, and 1899-1900
it did a large amount of excellent relief work, particularly in
connection with its many orphanages which were thrown open
for the reception of starving children, who were thereafter
brought up in pious Vedic fashion. In the second of these fam
ines upwards of seventeen hundred children were thus rescued.
On the caste problem the Arya Samaj does not take the
out-and-out stand taken by the two younger branches of the
Brahmo Samaj ; yet it seeks to modify caste very considerably
by encouraging interdining and intermarriage among the
twice-born, and by insisting that caste should be (and in
Vedic times was 1), a matter of man's nature, not of his birth.
Mr. Hansraj, one of the most prominent members of the
Samaj, expressed it to me thus: "The important question
about a man is what he is in himself, not what his father was.
His nature, not his birth should settle his social status. "
The logical corollary of this view of caste is an effort to up
lift the outcaste; and in the preceding chapter we have seen
the methods used by the Arya Samaj to make over the Un
touchables into perfectly good Hindus. This is often done in
wholesale fashion, the "mass methods" of the Christian mis
sionaries being rivaled. Thus in one district an "untouchable"
caste of ten thousand was admitted into the Arya Samaj in a
body, and in another district some thirty-six thousand of an
other caste.2 But the Samaj is not content with "converting"
these outcastes; it has organized several societies to look after
their education and uplift, the most important of which is the
Depressed Classes Mission.
The Arya Samaj is strongly opposed to child marriage,
although it has never taken the prominent part in the cam
paign against this evil which so distinguished the Brahmo
Samaj in the days of Keshub Chunder Sen. The minimum
1 In the Satyarth Prakash, Dayanand cites several passages from the
Shastras to prove this. See pages 135-37 of the English translation. Cf.
also Lajpat Rai, op cit., pp. 137-43.
s See Lajpat Rai, op. cit., p. 230. SOS

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
marriageable age for girls it fixes at sixteen, and for boys at
twenty-five. Widow remarriage is also permitted, but it is
not approved except in the case of virgin widows. If the wife
has really been a wife, the Samaj thinks she should be faithful
to her husband's memory always.1 This is a rather beautiful
thought; but the odd part of it is that no such ideal fidelity is
expected or desired of the widower.
But the Samaj has exerted more effort on education than
upon philanthropy or social reform. "In the Punjab and
the United Provinces its work," according to M. Rai, " in ex
tent and volume, is second to no other agency except the
Government. Christian Missions maintain a large number of
schools of all kinds, but no single mission can claim to have
as many schools for boys and girls as the Arya Samaj." 2 In
addition to these numerous schools each branch of the Samaj
(for there has been a division in the Church of the Aryas)
maintains a college. The older of these, the Dayanand Anglo
Vedic College of Lahore (commonly known as the "D.A.V."),
is a large and flourishing institution, with many handsome
buildings. It has 1737 students in the school department and
903 in the collegiate, "besides a number in the purely Vedic
department, in the faculty of Hindu medicine, in the engineer
ing and tailoring classes." 3 The faculty of the college is a group
of very pleasant and cultured native gentlemen who under
stand the needs of the situation and give their students a
modern and yet Indian education, with required courses in
Sanskrit and the Vedic religion as taught by Dayanand. The
purpose of the college is to crown the system of lower and
middle schools which the Samaj conducts in various parts of
the Punjab, and to give its students not only a good education
but also rational and defensible religious ideas which shall
yet be Indian.
The college of the other (the Gurukula) sect is a much more
conservative and purely Indian institution.4 Its founders dis
approved of the western tone of the D.A.V. and sought to
1 For Dayanand 's reasons for this position see the Satyarth Prakash,
p. 156.
2 Op. cit., p. 179. » Lajpat Rai, op. cit., p. 191.
4 It is situated at Kangri, on the Ganges near Hardwar, and has about
three hundred students, most of whom are in the school department.
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BRAHMO SAMAJ AND ARYA SAMAJ
imitate as far as possible the education of the Brahmachari in
the good old Vedic days. " The boys when entering are usually
of the age of seven or eight years. On entering, the boys take
a vow of poverty, chastity, and obedience for sixteen years,
and this vow they renew at the end of the tenth year. The
pupils are not allowed to visit their homes during this long
period of training, nor can their relations come to the school
oftener than once a month." *¦
The Samaj has also a college for girls and a number of girls'
schools. In all these schools, for both sexes, emphasis is laid
upon religious training. Something also is done for the reli
gious instruction of adults, for whose benefit several cheap
editions of the ritual are published, with the Sanskrit verses
transliterated and translated.2 And more important still, they
have the weekly meeting with its sermon, and the weekly and
daily ritual of worship.
For though Dayanand regarded a moral life as the great road
to salvation, he was not unaware of the utility of ritual in con
centrating the attention upon religious thoughts and building
up a religious and moral habit of mind. Hence he taught his
followers to practice five daily duties, which are in part moral,
in part ritualistic. They are the following: (i) Ritualistic
washing, meditation, and the reciting of certain Sanskrit
verses; (2) the "Agnihotra" or "Hawan" sacrifice to all na-
1 Quoted by Mr. Rai from an article by Mr. Myron Phelps.
2 The majority, of course, must stop their Sanskrit here and can hardly
be expected to delve into the Vedas. This fact is a little embarrassing at
times for an upholder of the Samaj : for, as one of them writes, they all
take pride in being the only true followers of the Veda and regard the read
ing of the Veda a sacred duty. " But when cornered by some clever Muslim
or Christian with the awkward question, 'Have you read the Vedas?' the
majority can render no answer but that inscribed on their blank faces by
blushes of ignorance." Nor would it be wise for the leaders to remedy this
difficulty by putting into the hands of the people Griffith's or Wilson's
translations of the Rik or Whitney and Lanman's translation of the Athar-
van. Hence Mr. Gokul Chand has culled for their benefit certain proper
verses from the hymns in a little book called the Message of the Vedas; and
an authoritative translation is promised which will show up the absurd
inaccuracies of Griffith, Max Miiller, and the rest. But on the whole, it
must be said that the Samaj is made up of very intelligent men and that
its leaders are wide awake to the importance of education, for both the
young and the old, and are doing much to make the Samaj a real power in
the land and to keep it abreast of the times.
207

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
ture (to be explained presently) ; (3) ministering to the com
fort of parents and elders; (4) feeding the poor (certain San
skrit verses being said at the same time); (5) hospitality to
sannyasins, religious teachers, etc. The second of these is of
special interest, as being a deliberate adaptation of an ancient
rite into a new and decidedly rationalistic religion, in part for
the sake of the psychological and social effect upon the partici
pants. Every good Arya is expected to perform it, or be pres
ent at its performance, at least once a day either in his home
or in a public gathering. By good luck we happened to be in
Lahore at the time of the thirty-sixth anniversary of the Samaj
and were invited to see the public Agnihotra or Hawan cere
mony with which the celebration of the day began. It was
held in the large hall or court of the "Dayanand Anglo- Vedic
Middle School," which except for a canopy was open to the
sky. The walls were hung with familiar mottoes, in English
and Hindu — such as Garrison's well-known (but here some
what irrelevant) words : " I will not equivocate — I will not ex
cuse — I will not retreat a single inch — and I will be heard " ;
and Watts's "Birds in their little nests agree
But 't is a shameful sight
When children of one family
Fall out in chide and fight " (sic).
By the side of the speaker's platform there was a sort of
arbor, with a banana tree at each corner, and in the center of
it a pit perhaps two feet square and nearly as deep (in theory
it should be sixteen inches by sixteen by sixteen) . It was neatly
plastered, apparently with cow-dung, and the borders of it
decorated with colors. Near it was a pile of wood, a large
brass dish full of ghi or liquefied butter, and two basins filled
with a brown mixture of various substances — "odoriferous,
nutritive, sweet, and curative." About fifteen men and boys
took their places in the arbor and around the pit, and began by
chanting a long series of Sanskrit hymns from the Vedas. The
chanting was on three notes only, with much nasal pausing on
ms and ns; it was done at first by memory, but for the later
hymns books had to be consulted. Meanwhile the audience
was coming in, consisting of forty or fifty men, perhaps a hun-
208

BRAHMO SAMAJ AND ARYA SAMAJ
dred boys from the Dayanand Anglo-Vedic school (clean and
happy-looking and all with pink turbans), and about a dozen
women and young children who took their places behind a
screen specially provided for them. The real ceremony now
began. Four pieces of resinous material, of the shape and size
of a pencil, were lighted and set up at the corners of the pit; a
fire was built in the pit and started — the chanting continuing
till the end of the performance. When the fire began to blaze
one of the men poured a ladle of ghi into it and this act he re
peated every few minutes. Meanwhile the bowls containing
the brown and "curative " mixture were passed about and each
of the boys and men by turns threw in a handful. Very little
smoke was produced and hardly any odor. This process was
continued till all the mixture and all the ghi were used up,
when the chanting ceased and the ceremony ended. The fol
lowing verses are translations of some of those chanted and
will serve as samples of all the Arya prayers and hymns : —
"We offer to Him who is the soul of movable and immovable things, and
who is the light of lights and life of all, so that this offering may be of service
to all the creatures."
"We offer to Him who is the teacher of truth to learned people, and who
is the life of all."
"We offer to Him who is self-glorious and the illuminer of the whole
world." "0 God, we offer to Thee who art our life, knowledge, and motion."
"0 God, we offer to Thee who art holiness, power, and space."
"0 God, we offer to Thee who art self -existent, light, essence, immortal
ity, supreme being, life, holiness, and happiness."
"0 God, we offer to Thee, who art all in alL"
The Samajists name several purposes in explaining this cere
mony. Thus they say it emphasizes their connection with
Vedic times (for, as I have said, it is an adaptation of a Vedic
rite) ; it is a symbol of one's devotion to all the world, etc. But
the first reason they will give you for it is that it purifies the air.
Our bodies throw off certain poisonous excretions into the air
and we owe it to nature to make this return. Dayanand wrote,
"The vapor which, mixed with particles of fragrant things,
goes up into the sky, purifies the water suspended in the air
and also causes rain in greater abundance. This improves the
quality of herbs, medicinal plants, corn and other vegetable
productions. . . . There are many other benefits which accrue
209

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
from the performance of the ceremony. The wise can think
them out for themselves." l Every good Arya believes im
plicitly that the air is very much better after the ghi has been
burned ; and both the school and the college open every day
with the ceremony.
The Samaj holds regular weekly services on Sunday morn
ings — Sunday being chosen certainly not out of deference to
Christianity, but because on that morning only are the various
offices closed. The service is simple but very long — last
ing three or four hours. Except for the ghi ceremony just
described, it resembles closely the service in a Protestant
Evangelical Church. The Samaj has no priesthood, and vari
ous members, qualified by education for the task, take turns
in conducting the exercises. These consist, in addition to the
ghi sacrifice, of a sermon, chanting from the Vedas, and prayers,
some formal, some spontaneous and extempore. The Samaj
is excellently organized. Every city and village under its in
fluence has its own local Samaj, which possesses a good-sized
meeting-house, and sends representatives to the Provincial
Assembly. These Provincial Assemblies, in turn, send repre
sentatives to the All India Assembly. In theory any Hindu
— whether natural or artificial — may become a member of
the Arya Samaj ; and there are methods and formulas by which
even the Pariah or the foreigner may be made over into a Hindu
for this purpose. "Effective membership involves (a) the ac
ceptance of the Ten Principles; (&) the payment of one per
cent, of one's income towards the revenues of the Samaj;
(c) attendance at meetings; (d) right conduct." 2
As the reader will have noted, the Arya Samaj is emphati
cally a national and Indian movement. It is to this that it
owes its popularity and its rapid growth compared with the
Brahmo Samaj. The Brahmo Samaj is too universal arid also
too Christian to please the average Hindu. It is on this ground
especially that Dayanand attacked it. How, in fact, he asked,
could one expect anything really good from people who do not
accept the Vedas as inspired? "Thus to their hearts' content,"
he continues, "the Brahmoists cry down the glory of their
1 Quoted from Dayanand by Bawa Chhajju Singh, op. cit., p. 210.
2 Lajpat Rai, op. cit., p. 151. 2IO

BRAHMO SAMAJ AND ARYA SAMAJ
country and the greatness of its ancients, extol the English and
Christians in their lectures, and assert that there have been no
learned people in the world unto this day except the English."
They have, however, he admits, done some good in "saving a
few persons from being converted to Christianity." x
For the Arya Samaj recognizes the Christian missionaries
as its greatest foes; and I may add, the Christian mission
aries reciprocate the sentiment. Both are aggressive, both
oppose idolatry and polytheism, both preach moral living
as the means of salvation, and both rely on preaching of this
sort in their appeal to the more intelligent, and especially to
the young. Many of the missionaries will tell you that the aim
of the Samaj is political and revolutionary rather than reli
gious and moral and are hardly willing to give this Hindu devil
its due. The Samajists, in their turn, arm themselves with
arguments from the Rationalist Press Association and make
every effort possible to counteract the work of the missionary.
One of their popular tracts is entitled "Is not Christianity a
False and Fabulous Religion?" And one missionary told me
of a story he had heard in many villages and which he traced
to the Samaj to the effect that Jesus was a bad man and once
stole a donkey.
But toward the Hinduism of to-day, both popular and philo
sophical, the militant Samaj is hardly more friendly. True, it
aims to bring about a purified and what it considers an ancient
and true Hinduism; and, in the words of one of its exponents,
"it does not aim at any future outside and beyond the pale of
Hinduism." 2 But with the modern degenerate descendant
of the ancient religion it has many quarrels. Its polytheism,
its idolatry, its shraddha rites, its veneration of sacred places,
and most of its books are all wrong. And so is also its nar
rowness — for the Arya Samaj would like to see not only all
India but all the world within its fold, and unlike Hinduism
it would gladly accept Europeans in its membership. And only
less repugnant to it than the idolatry of the people is the pan
theistic Vedanta of the philosophers and pundits. To the
Arya, the so-called idealism of Shankara's philosophy is only
1 Satyarth Prakash, p. 376.
2 Lajpat Rai, op. cit., p. 274.
211

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
materialism under a different name.1 And for reasons very
similar to these, the Aryas look at the Theosophist with con
siderable suspicion. One of them said to me, "Theosophy is
trying to bring back and retain in Hinduism all the things —
such as idolatry, shraddha rites, belief in ghosts, etc. — which
we have been trying to abolish. Doubtless it has done some
good work in India; but in its attempt to accept everything
Indian it has filled itself with inconsistencies. It tries to say
Yes, Yes, to every creed."
The Arya Samaj is still growing, especially in the Punjab
and the United Provinces. Altogether it has about 250,000
members.2 In the South of India the difference of language
stands in the way of its missionary propagation, and in Bengal
the Brahmo Samaj seems to have preempted the field. In 1893
the Samaj suffered a most unfortunate "split" on the food
and education questions. The conservatives, who regarded
Dayanand's opinions and example as authoritative, opposed
the admission to membership of any who ate meat, and in
sisted that the education of the young should be less western
and more "Vedic " than that given at the "D.A.V." As they
could not persuade their brethren they branched off and have
started many local Samajes and schools and (as we have
seen) a college of their own. Although efforts at reconcilia
tion have been repeatedly made, the division has not yet
been healed. This, however, has by no means paralyzed the
Samaj, which by means of pamphlets, weekly preaching ser
vices, schools, and its three colleges is still putting up a good
fight and a fairly united front against the superstitious Hindu
and the Christian missionary.
1 Thus Mr. Hansraj said to me, "The Vedantist takes this material
world, makes it one, and calls it ' God,' and thinks that thereby he has spir
itualized it. As a fact if you do away with a personal God and make God
identical with the material world which you call spiritual, you have prod*-
cally nothing left but what the materialists have, unless you wish to cheat
yourself with the name. God has really become merely matter. A 'God
who is not personal is not God at all."
2 This is " two and a half times what it was in 1901, and six times that of
1891."

CHAPTER XI
THE RADHASOAMIS AND THEOSOPHISTS
PROBABLY the reader is by this time quite tired of Hindu
reformers and all their works; in spite of which I mean to
devote one more chapter to them. For I have found the two
movements, the names of which I have put at the head of this
chapter, of considerable interest; and moreover, one of them is
almost unknown in the West, while the other has exercised a
specially dominant influence on the developing thought of
modern India.
The new religion now making considerable head in the
United Provinces under the name the "Radhasoami Faith"
is a very different kind of reform movement from the two
Samajes, yet in some respects is even more typically Indian
than they. It is interesting as a living example of the type of
reform that so often arose in India before the influence of
Christianity was felt in the land. It is purely religious in na
ture with no active social programme beyond a mild disap
proval of caste restrictions; it recognizes but one God and no
idols; has a purified form of worship based upon an elaborate
psychology; regards its founder and leaders as incarnations of
the Divine; and aims at freeing the soul from the flesh. It was
founded by a Government employee in Agra,1 named Shiva
Dayal Singh, who evidently had done a good deal of inde
pendent thinking and felt the need of a purer form of worship,
and who in 1861 made the discovery that he was an incarna
tion of the Supreme Being. He also discovered the true name
of the Supreme Being and many other important and interest
ing things, some of which shall be related in due course. As
was natural in India, he found no difficulty in persuading a
considerable number of people that he was God in the flesh,2
1 So, at least, I was informed by a member of the Satsang in Benares.
According to Farquhar he was a banker.
2 Such things need not seem strange to us Americans, at least, when we
remember Joseph Smith, Prophet Elijah Dowie, and the "Holy Ghost and
Us." 213

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
and thus he founded the new church and became its guru or
"Maharaj." When he died in 1878 one of his followers, Rai
Saligram Saheb Bahadoor by name, whom he had especially
trained for the position, succeeded him as Incarnation of God
and guru (or "Sant Satguru") of the religious community,
under the name Huzoor Maharaj. This man was Postmaster-
General of the Northwest Provinces.1 He published the two
vernacular books (one in verse, one in prose) which his pre
decessor had written, and wrote several himself (one of them
in English), and died in 1898, passing on the leadership to
Brahm Sankar Misra (who had "manifested" himself in 1861).
Misra was a man of excellent education, holding the degree of
M.A. from the Calcutta University and possessed of a clear
and pleasing English style. He was for a time an employee in
the office of the Accountant-General in Allahabad, and wrote
a very readable book in English on the Radhasoami Faith.
He died in Benares in 1907. His successor, Madhava Prasad,
is not a "Sant .Satguru" or absolute incarnation of the Su
preme, but only a highly advanced adept. He makes his head
quarters in Allahabad, where he is Chief Superintendent in
the office of the Accountant-General. The new movement
has steadily grown — chiefly in the United Provinces — and
claims to have nearly a hundred thousand members. In point
of numbers, therefore, it is almost on an equality with the
Parsees. This new faith claims to have the advantage over all other
religions of being founded on "science" and perfectly demon
strable. And indeed, if reference to nerve ganglia, ions, and
positive and negative poles — combined with excellent English
1 Rai Saligram seems to have been both an able administrator and a
really spiritual teacher. Max Miiller gives a short account of him in his
Life of Ramakrishna, including him among the five best-known Mahat
mans of his time, along with Devendranath Tagore, Swami Dayanand, and
Ramakrishna himself. He writes of him (op. cit., p. 23), in 1898, just before
the Guru died: "When last heard of, the old man was still alive, his house
besieged every day by large numbers of persons both male and female, who
flock there from different parts of the country. He holds five meetings day
and night for the purpose of imparting religious instruction, so that he has
hardly more than two hours left for sleep. Everybody is welcome, and no
distinction is made between Brahman and Sudra, rich and poor, good and
bad. The people are convinced that he can work miracles, but he himself
regards such things as unbecoming, and below his dignity."
214

THE RADHASOAMIS AND THEOSOPHISTS
—prove the presence of science, the last book of the Maharajas
is strictly scientific. But in common with the "Radhasoami
Mat Prakash" of the second Maharaj, it has also the greater
advantage of being infallibly inspired, — being written by God
himself in the flesh. A brief r6sume of the teachings of these
two books should therefore certainly be of great interest to the
reader. God is the source or ocean of all force. He is Spirit-Force and
from Him all natural forces come. He permeates the universe
as sunlight pervades empty space, and our souls are part of
Him, though for a while imprisoned in these material bodies.
Now, "if the faculty of hearing is sufficiently developed all
force currents could be heard as sounds." God being force can
therefore be heard ; and His true name will be the sound made
by this Supreme Spirit-Force. The gurus of the new religion
are able to hear this sound and tell us what it is. "The sound
in articulate speech of the spirit-current is 'Radha,' and that
of the spiritual focus or reservoir is 'Soami.' Radhasoami is
accordingly held to be the true and real name of the Supreme
Creator, and its sound, which resounds in the innermost quar
ter of all regions, can be heard by a devotee of the Radhasoami
sect when the faculty of hearing inherent in his spirit is devel
oped by the process of devotional practice prescribed by the
Radhasoami Faith." J
There are in the universe three spheres. The highest of
these is pure spirit and in it dwells Radhasoami (though pres
ent by his force-currents everywhere) ; the second, known as
"Brahmand," is "spiritual-material"; the third is "material-
spiritual." Each of these has six subdivisions. In the last
dwells man — an immortal soul, or eternal and divine spark,
in a material body. Man is a microcosm of the universe and
has six principal nerve ganglia, corresponding to the six di
visions of each sphere. His spirit, which is distinct from his
mind, has its seat (Shades of Descartes!) on the highest of
1 From the report of " Maharaj Saheb" (Brahm Sankar Misra) to the
Census Office, printed as an appendix to his book, Discourses on the Radha
soami Faith (Benares, Radha Soami Satsang, 1909), p. 303. It is said that
in their doctrine of the Divine Name and its importance the Radhasoamis
have been influenced by the doctrine of the Word or Logos in St. John's
Gospel. 215

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
these, namely, the pineal gland — "midway between the two
eyes, three quarters of one inch from the root of the nose in
wards." From this headquarters it perceives through the
various sense-organs by sending out force-currents to them,
But it also has relations with the upper worlds. " In the fissure
between the two lobes of the brain are twelve apertures which
provide the means of communication with the six subdivisions
of Brahmand and of the purely spiritual region. The apertures
appertaining to Brahmand are to be found in the gray matter,
and those appertaining to the purely spiritual region in the
white matter." l If man fails to make use of these channels
for communion with the upper worlds he must continue to be
born again and again indefinitely — for the new revelation
teaches the old doctrine of transmigration. But the aim of
man is to become free from the chains of the flesh and at
length to attain to pure spirituality and to return to God who
is our home.
A moral life is, of course, essential to attaining this aim, but
it is only the first step. Certain methods for enabling the soul
to quit the body temporarily, or hold communion with the
upper spheres during this present life, are taught by the new
faith, and the practice of these, carried on through this and
several more incarnations, will enable the individual at length
to win perfect spiritual freedom from all body. To learn these
methods there is need of a guru who is himself in communica
tion with one of the upper worlds. There have been many such
gurus or adepts; but there were never any incarnations until,
the ground for the spiritual regeneration of man having been
prepared by the advent of these various lesser gurus and
adepts, Radhasoami sent down rays from his very self which
assumed human form in the first Maharaj. The Radhasoami
Faith must therefore not be considered in any sense a reform
or an offshoot of Hinduism, or as in any way a product of hu
man traditions or cogitations. Says the second Sant Satguru
in his authoritative work, "The Radhasoami Faith is not
built on the basis of scriptures appertaining to Hindu or any
other religion, but on the precepts or instructions of the Su
preme Being Himself, Who appeared on this earth in human
1 The Radhasoami Faith, p. 65.
2l6

THE RADHASOAMIS AND THEOSOPHISTS
form and graciously performed the functions of a Sant Sat
guru for the benefit of degraded humanity." x Such an incar
nation is a kind of focus of the divine rays and "carries on, by
the deity's direct impulse, the work appertaining to the ob
ject for which the incarnation was ordained." There have been
but three such incarnations, namely, the three Maharajas of
the Radhasoami Faith. They alone of religious teachers come
directly from the first or purely spiritual region. "All [other]
extant religions have for their goal the second or spiritual-
material region which is subject to decay and dissolution.
This region is not clearly mentioned in the tenets of the extant
religions, but allusions and hints about it are to be found in
their holy books. Only one initiated in esoteric teachings can
comprehend these hints. But such adepts are very rare, and
only those initiated in the Radhasoami Faith can at present
understand the esoteric teachings of all other religions also,
and form a correct idea of the attitude of each." 2
The importance of a living guru to aid the disciple in ascend
ing to these dizzy heights is now plain. The Radhasoamis
think (and with good reason) that the Sikhs and the followers
of Kabir have degenerated just because they have so long been
without a living guru ; and they are determined to profit by the
mistakes of their predecessors and never be any length of time
without an incarnation of the Deity or at least an adept who
has climbed to the top of the second spiritual sphere. "The
ascension of a spirit from its ordinary seat to higher planes is
possible only when a living adept is present. It is not necessary
that the disciple must always be in the personal company of
the adept. So long as the adept is alive, his spirituality is ki
netic on higher planes and he can extend help even when the
disciple is away from him at a distance." 8
There are three great methods by which the soul may begin
its ascent toward the up'per regions. These are " (i) utterance
of the spiritual name by the spirit-current ; (2) contemplation
of the spiritual form; and (3) attentively listening to the spir
itual sound." Each of these methods is based on "Science."
1 Rai Saligram Bahadur, Radhasoami Mat Prakash (Benares, Chandra-
prabha Press, 1896), p. 13.
2 The Radhasoami Faith, pp. 309-10. ' Ibid., p. 123.
217

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
Since every force has its sound, by reproducing the sound of a
spirit-force we may gain some of the power of that force and
by tuning, as it were, our soul and body to that sound we may
put ourselves into harmony with it. My exposition here I con
fess is very unscientific, but the interested reader will consult
the sources. The effects to be attained by proper repetition of
the holy syllables are certainly remarkable. "All obstacles
thrown in the way and traps laid by Universal Mind and
Matter to stop or interfere with the progress of a pilgrim to
the high mansions of the Supreme Being in pure spiritual re
gions disappear at once on the pronunciation of the Holy
Name Radhasoami by the devotee; such is the immediate ef
fect and beneficial influence exercised by this Almighty Name.
It at once strikes awe and terror in the heart of the conflict
ing agents and revolting forces met with by the devotee while
traversing the material regions and gradually removes them
altogether from his path." J As to the second of the methods
— contemplation — it is a well-known fact that we grow like
that which we willingly contemplate, and also that spiritual
facts get themselves recorded in facial expression. "The out
ward marks are specially noticeable on the forehead and in the
eyes of an adept, and the effect of these marks on advanced
devotees in producing concentration and sublimation of spirit
is very remarkable." And the effect of contemplating an in
carnation is, of course, doubly great. Hence the practice of
gazing at the Maharaj, or, during an interregnum, at the
pictures of past Maharajas. The third method — that of lis
tening attentively to the spiritual sound — is the most diffi
cult of the three, and only the more advanced can really suc
ceed in hearing it. Yet it is quite possible; for Radhasoami,
"the true Name, is present everywhere in creation and can
be heard at the innermost plane where the spirit-current is
acting. As each ray from the sun carries with it the constitu
tional components of the sun, similarly the prime action by
focus and current, which are the constitutional components
of creation in the beginning, is carried in the tiniest ray of
spirit, and the sound, Radhasoami, could be heard in minia
ture if we could penetrate the surrounding layers and reach the
1 Radhasoami Mat Prakash, p. 2.
218

THE RADHASOAMIS AND THEOSOPHISTS
innermost quarter occupied by the spirit-ray." x There is
something rather beautiful in this conception that, were the
hearing of our spirit not deadened by its enwrapping mortal
coil, we should hear everywhere throughout the universe whis
pered the name of God.
"There's not the smallest orb which thou beholdest
But in his motion like an angel sings,
Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins;
Such harmony is in immortal souls;
But whilst this muddy vesture of decay
Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it."
There are centers of the Radhasoami Faith at Agra, Allaha
bad, and Benares. Their building in the latter city is one of
the most prominent in town. It is situated in a beautiful gar
den, which is carefully and tastefully kept up. The building
itself consists of a large hall, with a screened gallery at one end
and a marble platform at the other — in short, it has much the
appearance of a Protestant church. There are, of course, no
idols or anything of the sort, the room being quite bare except
for large pictures of the three departed gurus. The ashes of the
last of the three rest beneath the marble platform from which
he used to teach ; while at the sides of the platform are two
small rooms each of which contains his picture and also a large
divan. On these divans the late guru used to sit, in Oriental
fashion, while teaching the inner circle of his disciples, and
hence they are regarded as being full of spiritual magnetism
and as sending out ethereal vibrations.
Twice a day the faithful gather in this hall for public service
— at morning and evening. The women sit in the screened
gallery, the men on the floor, and one of their number, stand
ing at the reading-desk on the floor, reads to them from some
inspired book written by one of the great gurus. For as I have
said, though they reverence the Vedas they regard only the
writings of the incarnations of Radhasoami as really inspired
and authoritative. No one but the guru may teach from the
platform and the present guru is at Allahabad. The following
1 The Radhasoami Faith, p. 152. The details of the three methods as
actually practiced are not made public, but are divulged to members of the
sect on initiation. 219

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
description of a service at which the guru presides is from the
inspired pen of the last guru himself: —
"The service commences with the recitation, in which all
the members of the congregation can take part, of certain holy
pieces which contain a grateful expression of the immense
spiritual benefit conferred by the gracious Supreme Creator
in revealing the true path of salvation. . . . The service closes'
with another recitation of the description given above, but the
subject-matter of the holy pieces is different. . . . The holy
books compiled by the Saints are also read out. Such portions
of these books as do not admit of easy comprehension are ex
plained by the presiding adept, or made the text of a holy dis
course. Other discourses also are frequently delivered. . . .
While the books are being read out the members of the congre
gation are simultaneously attentive, to some extent, to their
devotional practice, especially of contemplation, which is
rendered easy in consequence of the inspired subject-matter of
the holy books they are listening to. Concurrently with this,
the process for the purification of mind and the eradication of
evil desires is also at work. The root of all evils is ignorance.
In the presence of a Saint this ignorance is dispelled to some
extent, and his serene and sacred company is at times alone
sufficient to disclose the shortcomings of the members of the
congregation, and to generate true contrition. . . . The sur
roundings of the satsang [the meeting], the presence of the
adept and his discourses, produce also great effect upon the
faculty of religious emotion, and as the devotee makes prog
ress in his spiritual practice, gradually the satsang affords such
exquisite emotional ecstasies to him that all pleasures of this
world dwindle into insignificance and the entire service is one
of engrossing rapture. . . . The presiding adept is sometimes
garlanded before the commencement of the service, and gar
lands sanctified by his touch are distributed to the members
of the congregation. Sweets or some other light article of
food are also sometimes distributed after sanctification by
the adept. They constitute, as it were, the sacrament of the
satsang." *
For an elect, inner circle there are additional means of
1 The Radhasoami Faith, pp. 125-30.
220

THE RADHASOAMIS AND THEOSOPHISTS
spiritual assistance. "Articles of food left in the dishes after
an adept has finished his meals, clothes and garments worn by
him, and the water used for the ablution of his feet, are con
sidered to be highly spiritualized, and used by such of the dis
ciples as get an opportunity to obtain them. Disciples are also
sometimes allowed to touch the feet of an adept with their
forehead, the object being that the spirituality, which is more
or less flowing out from the feet of the adept, might be imbibed
by them. ... At times disciples are permitted to gaze intently
at the eyes of an adept, and he also directs his gaze similarly at
the eyes and forehead of the devotees engaged in this practice.
. . . The spiritual concentration during such moments is very
great, and the devotees who are performing this practice are
filled within themselves with rapturous bliss." * 1
Only the more advanced may enjoy the great privilege of
using the water in which an adept has bathed his feet; but ad
mission to the outer circle of membership is open to all, with
out reference even to caste. The Radhasoami Faith has room
even for the despised sweeper, and within its hospitable walls
distinctions of birth are thrown aside and only spirituality
counts. "The only conditions required for embracing the
Radhasoami religion are abstinence from meat and animal
food and liquor and all intoxicating drugs, and a conviction
that the goal of the Radhasoami Faith is the only true goal of
true and perfect salvation."
Yet the sect makes no active attack upon caste or upon any
other social evil. The morality which it preaches is pure but
is of a decidedly negative nature. This is rather forcibly
brought out in the late guru's second report to the Census
Bureau, in which he says: "The moral code of the Radha
soami Faith consists, so far as our actions toward others are
concerned, in withholding ourselves from such acts as we
would that others should not do to us."
The truth is, the Radhasoamis are emphatically Quietists.
Mystic cultivation of their own souls is their great aim, and
active social work is regarded as dangerous. The writer of the
Prefatory Note in the book from which I have so often quoted
tells us that "Maharaj Saheb [the late guru] always impressed
1 The Radhasoami Faith, pp. 130-32.
221

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
upon the members of the Radhasoami Faith the necessity of
abstaining from taking part in public assemblies (especially
political ones), as such participation would always result in
some spiritual loss." 1 And the guru himself gives us as the one
great evil consequence of eating animal food the fact that "it
generates outward activity and energy"!
This point of view was so characteristic of native Indian eth
ics before it was influenced by Christianity that I hope I shall
be pardoned if I set down here a further illustration of it — a
conversation I had with a member of the Radhasoami Faith.
I shall put it down in the form of question and answer as it
actually occurred: —
Q. " Does your religion aid in the moral life? "
A. "Yes, greatly — by helping us to overcome the flesh. A
pure life is the prerequisite of progress according to our teach
ing." Q. "Does your religion tend to make one helpful to other
people? — For instance: Yesterday I saw a little girl of per
haps eight who danced for me. She will almost certainly grow
up to be a public woman unless some one tries to save her from
it. Does your religion teach you or inspire you to help and
save that little girl?"
A. "Oh, no. That sort of thing is very secondary. Our re
ligion aims at the one thing of great importance, the develop
ment and salvation of soul. We believe that charity begins at
home : — and this not in a selfish sense. We cannot help others
till we have attained to a high spiritual condition ourselves,
just as a poor man must first become rich before he can be a
benefactor. Our first duty is to save our own souls; and this
takes all our time. It is no easy thing to practice our system
and to develop our souls, and it requires all our thought and
effort." Q. "Have any of you — even your gurus — developed so
far that they have had time for such things as I have men
tioned — saving little girls?"
A. "The little girl must learn by trying which is the best
way — though of course she might be told the truth by others.
No one can save the little girl but herself. She will learn just
1 Page xv.
222

THE RADHASOAMIS AND THEOSOPHISTS
as the child learns to avoid the fire — by putting his hand in
and getting burned. [He would probably have added that in
her long series of lives she would have plenty of opportunity
for learning and profiting by her sad experience.] We can do
nothing for her, except perhaps point out the laws of life and
the effects of vice and virtue."
Q. "Do you do this? Do you make any attempts at prose
lyting and communicating your fine religion to others? Do you
ever actually warn the little girl?"
A. "We do no public preaching or proselyting. When peo
ple come to us and inquire about our doctrines we gladly an
swer their questions. And we offer them our books for sale."
Yet I fear I have done but scant justice by the Radhasoamis.
To be sure, they do little for others beyond showing them an
example of relatively pure and peaceful lives. But after all, is
that not something? And with all their pseudo-science and
their strange "spiritual" methods, they do at least nourish a
very genuine aspiration after a purer, nobler life than they
have yet found in themselves. Sad, is it not, that in their
search for an ideal who shall lift them above themselves, in
their longing for an Incarnation of the Divine, they can see no
further than the self-deluded clerk in the Government Office
at Agra! 1
1 In all fairness to the followers of the Radhasoami Faith I ought again to
warn the reader against the natural prejudice with which we Westerners are
likely to read an account of a religion so strange to us as this is. I should
also add that in a letter which I recently received from the present leader of
the Faith he says, among other things: " I may tell you at the outset that
we are not at all interested in the presentation of our religion in a book deal
ing with the religions of India, and we disclaim all responsibility for any
thing that you are to say regarding our religion in the book you are writing.
The subject is so vast and technical that it requires a training for some con
siderable time followed by actual experimentation by means of spiritual
practices before one can be expected to comprehend and appreciate the
teachings of our religion at their true worth. ... At present we doubt very
much if our religion will be sympathetically and appreciatively received
by people of the West."
The Radhasoami Faith may seem odd to most of us and downright
silly to some; but let not our Anglo-Saxon pride lead us into saying, with
self-conscious superiority, "Lo the poor Indian!" The very newest of the
"New Thought" of our up-to-date West is capable of things not so very
different. Thus the July 1915 number of the New York Key to Funda
mentals ; A Magazine of Revelations of the Underlying Principles of Nature,
,Life and Mind, announces that "it will serve as a guide to those that seek
223

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
And now, if the reader's patience can hold out a little longer,
we shall soon have done with Hindu reformers; for we have
only one more to consider, a reform movement, this, inaugu
rated and carried on by Europeans, who quite out-Hindu the
Hindus. I refer to the Theosophical Society, commonly known
as the "T. S." The Society was founded in the same year as
the Arya Samaj — 1875 — by Madame H. P. Blavatsky and
Colonel H. S. Olcott, two rather remarkable personages, both
of whom were convinced that the fundamental truths about
God and man were common to all religions and that these
truths were capable of considerable verification by means of
"occult science." Madame Blavatsky (commonly referred to in
Theosophical circles as "H. P. B.") was particularly noted for
her writings on religious and occult matters, while "H. S. 0.,"
as President of the Society, was specially active in the move
ment to interpret and build up the ancient religions of the
East. His successor as President of the T. S. to-day is Mrs.
Annie Besant, and the Society counts over a thousand active
lodges in twenty-three National Sections, sprinkled all over
the world under some thirty different governments, with a
total membership of about twenty-five thousand.
The aims of the Society are threefold: " (1) To form a nu
cleus of the Universal Brotherhood of Humanity, without
distinction of race, creed, sex, caste or color; (2) to encourage
the study of comparative religion, philosophy, and science;
(3) to investigate the unexplained laws of nature and the pow
ers latent in man." "The Theosophical Society is composed of
students belonging to any religion in the world or to none, who
are united by their approval of the above objects, by their
wish to remove religious antagonisms, and to draw together
men of good-will whatsoever their religious opinions, and by
their desire to study religious truths and to share the results of
their studies with others." *
psycho-spiritual development with a view to attaining mastership on that
plane of expression. It will serve as the organ of the American School of
Vibration. Its chief distinction will be its suggestions for the realization
of the reciprocal counterpoise of the so-called 'normal' or material plane
of activity, and of the super-normal or ethereal plane ... by imparting a
knowledge of the Law of Inversion." Surely here is a flower that might
have bloomed from the Radhasoami stalk!
1 Information for Enquirers (Adyar T. P. S., 1912).
224

THE RADHASOAMIS AND THEOSOPHISTS
Theosophy and the Theosophical Society are not inter
changeable terms. Theosophy is the teachings of the T. S.:
but not all members of the Society need accept them, for per
fect freedom of thought is always encouraged. As a matter of
fact, however, practically all members of the T. S. agree on the
more fundamental teachings — otherwise they would hardly be
Theosophists. As these teachings are closely bound up with the
religions of India a word or two should be said concerning them.
"Theosophy is the body of truths which forms the basis of
all religions." This first sentence in the Society's official expo
sition of Theosophy gives its fundamental point of view. The
implications of this sentence are important. There are certain
fundamental truths on which all religions are agreed, and
these when put systematically together will form the religious
philosophy of Humanity, which is Theosophy. Says Mrs.
Besant in the Introduction to her "Universal Textbook of
Religion and Morals": "There are fundamental doctrines,
symbols, rites, precepts, which are common to all, while the
lesser variants are innumerable. It thus becomes possible to
separate the essential from the non-essential, the permanent
from the transitory, the universal from the local, and to find
quod semper, quod ubique, quod ab omnibus. When this is done
we have remaining a fundamental religious and moral teaching
which may fearlessly be given to the young, as the expression
of facts concerning God, Man, and the Universe borne witness
to by the elect of Humanity, as being capable of verification by
all who reach a certain spiritual stage of evolution."
This is certainly a very admirable programme and every
liberal-minded religious man will wish the T. S. God-speed in
carrying it out — if such a thing be possible. The Theoso
phists think it not only possible but already easily accom
plished; and accordingly Mrs. Besant presents us with a list of
propositions as the creedal points of Theosophy which all re
ligions teach. The two most fundamental of these are the im
manence of God in man and the brotherhood of all men. " Its
secondary teachings are those which are the common teachings
of all religions, living or dead: the Unity of God; the triplicity
of His nature in manifestation; the descent of spirit in matter,
and hence the graded ranks of Intelligences, whereof humanity
225

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
is one; the growth of humanity by the unfoldment of con
sciousness and the evolution of bodies, i.e., reincarnation; the
progress of this growth under inviolable law, i.e., Karma; the
environment of this growth, i.e., the three worlds, the physical,
emotional, and mental, or earth, the intermediate world, and
heaven; the existence of divine Teachers, superhuman men,
often called the White Brotherhood."
Possibly not all the items in this summary are perfectly
clear to the reader: but I shall simply say that the reincarna
tion and Karma of the T. S. are merely what we have studied
under those names in Hinduism; that the White Brotherhood
is that "Occult Hierarchy" which "governs the world" and
whose members occasionally become incarnate, and even when
not incarnate may be "found" by members of the T. S. (it
was, in fact, one of them residing in Thibet, "Koot Hoomi" by
name, who revealed Theosophy to Madame Blavatsky, and
who on various critical occasions has sent letters and telegrams
to the leaders of the Society for their guidance); and as to
the many worlds, there are seven of them — the Physical, As
tral, Heavenly, Buddhic, Atmic-Nirvanic, Monadic, and the
World of the Logos. The last two of these Mrs. Besant says
"are so far above our present power of conception that, for the
moment, they may be left out of consideration" (!). But the
others, and in fact all the rest of the teachings of the T. S.
mentioned above, are matters "not of speculation but of ob
servation and experiment." It may be a revelation to the
reader that primitive Animism teaches the One Spiritual and
Immanent God and the brotherhood of men ; that Islam teaches
the Trinity; that Buddhism teaches the Supreme God and the
eternal identity of the soul with Him; and that Christianity
teaches transmigration and Karma. The truth is, this recon
ciliation of all the creeds has been so constructed as to make it
appear that all religions are mere variants upon a Vedantic
Hinduism with an occult interpretation. This, at least, is true
of the Theosophy of the Indian section with which alone we
are here concerned. Christianity, Islam, Zoroastrianism, and
"esoteric Buddhism" have contributed certain superficial
marks; but the heart of Indian Theosophy is a kind of occult
and mystic Hinduism. 226

THE RADHASOAMIS AND THEOSOPHISTS
It is for this reason that the T. S. has had so large an in
fluence in India. This influence has been in many respects
admirable. There is a goodly number of Theosophist mis
sionaries in India who have gone at their work in humble and
earnest fashion; deeply religious souls who see that there is in
Hinduism much that may be made ennobling, and who are
endeavoring by publications, schools, and personal influence
to reveal to Hindu girls and boys, men and women, a loftier
outlook and a purer life than they ever caught sight of before.
These Theosophist missionaries have not necessarily ceased to
be Christians; but they feel that there is more hope of success
in teaching the Indian the inner meaning and the spiritual side
of the religion into which he was born, than in indoctrinating
him into a new religion which is foreign to his land. I know
some of these earnest souls — women and men who are de
voting their lives to the humble task of teaching little brown
girls and boys and trying to make them into men and women
of larger vision than their parents were. And there can be no
doubt that many a Hindu to-day is a more intelligent man and
a better man because of the work of the Theosophical Society.
In every part of India you meet with men who will tell you
that their first insight into a more spiritual interpretation of
the rites and beliefs of their native religion came to them
through some Theosophist or through reading some of the
periodicals put out by the T. S. For the Society publishes sev
eral periodicals of an educative nature, some for children, some
for adults. It has also a considerable number of schools 1 in
which systematic education in the better side of Hinduism is
given to every Hindu pupil. And the Central Hindu College
at Benares (to which reference has already been made) was
until the spring of 1913 a Theosophist institution.
In their attempt at spiritualizing Hinduism the Theoso
phists are naturally led into an imaginative reconstruction of
the past and a symbolical interpretation of texts and customs
that inevitably rouse the wonder of the uninitiated. Krishna
with his sixteen thousand concubines is made into an angel of
1 The Theosophical Educational Trust (founded in April, 1913) has
under its management fifteen schools, with 2,608 girls and boys, and 122
teachers. Beside these (which are all in India) the Society maintains a
large number of schools in Burma. 227

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
purity, compared with whom even Buddha and Jesus seem
quite inferior, and the vilest stories are twisted into moral
tales; for symbolism covereth a multitude of sins. There
would be no great harm in this, perhaps, if the matter stopped
here; but it does not. In their enthusiasm over everything
Hindu, the T. S. has not hesitated to defend even such things
as polytheism, idolatry, shraddha, and various beliefs and
rites which to most of us seem hardly elevating. The de
fense is occasionally psychological, more often occult, and in
many cases simply authoritative. If one is to understand con
ditions in India to-day it is important to realize to what extent
the influential Theosophical Society has adopted the Hindu
view of things such as those named above and what kind of
teachings it is spreading throughout the land. Take, for ex
ample, the topic on which the T. S. lays such repeated stress
— "vibrations" and "mantras." The Hindu student is as
sured by Mrs. Besant in her books of instruction that "mod
ern science" (together with the eternal Veda) teaches that the
soul or jiva is surrounded by various sheaths of gross and sub
tle matter; that both it and they are in constant motion and
are ever sending out vibrations and being influenced by other
vibrations ; and that the recitation of certain mantras produces
vibrations that have most marvelous effects on all sorts of
gross and subtle matter and upon the welfare of souls living
and dead. "A mantra is a sequence of sounds, and these sounds
are vibrations, so that the chanting, loud or low, or the silent
repetition, of a mantra sets up a certain series of vibrations.
. . . The forms created by a mantra depend on the notes on
which the mantra is chanted; the mantra, as it is chanted,
gives rise to a series of forms in subtle matter. The nature of
the vibrations — that is, their general character, whether con
structive or destructive, whether stimulating love, energy, or
other emotions — depends on the words of the mantra." '
It follows, of course, that the mantra must be recited in its
original Sanskrit form, else it would fail to produce the desired
vibrations. The mantras, moreover, must be chanted at cer
tain magically favorable times? else their effect is considerably
1 Advanced Textbook of Hindu Religion and Ethics, pp. 166, 167.
* Ibid., p. 216. 228

THE RADHASOAMIS AND THEOSOPHISTS
reduced. If properly recited they have marvelous effects; and
Mrs. Besant teaches that the present "great loss in health
and vigor" of the Indian race is largely due to the fact that
mantras are no longer chanted, as in the good old days, over
prospective mothers before the birth of their children.1
The souls of the departed, no less than children yet unborn,
may be reached by the marvelous vibrations of Vedic mantras,
as well as by other traditional Hindu ceremonies. Hence the
justification of funeral and shraddha rites, according to Mrs.
Besant's instruction to Hindu boys as found in a little book of
hers which is "intended to help them answer the attacks lev
eled against their religion." From this we learn that the fire
which consumes the physical body on the burning ghat also
aids in breaking up the "etheric body" ; and " the sacred man
tras," which form a part of the cremation ceremony, "fill the
air with waves of energy that protect and calm him and that
loosen the clinging etheric body so that it falls away from
him." The soul is now a "preta" {"ghost would be the nearest
English equivalent," says Mrs. Besant) ; and here the shrad
dha ceremony comes in. "The vibrations of the mantras in
the subtle matter that surrounds us are like waves that wash
up against the body of the preta, washing away the coarser
matter, and quickening the disintegration of the preta form.
The water poured out with mantras and magnetized by them
imparts its helpful magnetism to the preta form also." 2
In similar fashion the T. S. has taken up the defense of
idolatry. On the front of her house at Benares Mrs. Besant
has a large Ganesha, and though presumably she does not
worship it herself, she encourages her Hindu followers to make
use of images of the gods in their devotions. She assures them
that the contemplation of such an image — let us say Hanu
man or Kali or a lingam — will help them to concentrate their
minds on God. But the chief argument for idolatry is that the
idol shares some of the "magnetism" of the god it represents,
once the proper mantras have been said and the proper liquids,
etc., poured over it by "a highly evolved person" such as a
1 Advanced Textbook of Hindu Religion and Ethics, p. 172.
2 Reprinted by Mrs. Besant in her little book In Defence of Hinduism
(Benares T. P. S.), pp. 33-37- 229

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
Brahmin priest. "You don't," — she tells the Hindus,—
"you don't take an ordinary image and use it in worship
straightaway. On the contrary, you subject it to a divine
ceremony. You recite over it certain mantras, you use certain
objects, you pour certain liquids, and it is only after all this
ceremony has been performed that the image becomes sacred
and fit to be used for the purposes of worship. . . . Thus you
have been magnetizing your image." x And again: "The pure
and soothing magnetism spreads around it [the idol], creating a
most helpful atmosphere. . . . Such a prepared center is very
readily strengthened and revivified by the Being whose mag
netism already is present there, and the prayer or meditation
of the worshiper drawing His attention, He sends an answering
current through the center already made." 2
The above quotations will serve as an indication of the
attitude of the Indian Theosophical Society toward what most
of us Westerners in our blindness are in the habit of calling
superstitions. For we, unfortunately, are not endowed with
Mrs. Besant's mystic powers of investigation, nor are we
in communication with Koot Hoomi, He of the Great White
Brotherhood residing in Thibet. Probably one reason for Mrs.
Besant's acceptance of everything Hindu is her sublime con
fidence in the revelations of "Occult Science." An ineradicable
hankering after the occult has in fact been the passion and the
bane of Theosophy ever since its birth. One would suppose
that Richard Hodgson's exposure of Madame Blavatsky's
tricks 3 would have been enough to sicken the Theosophists
of that sort of thing; but apparently it had very little effect,
at least in India. Veneration for H. P. B. is still as profound
as ever, and the longing for the super-normal, super-physical,
super-natural, super-everything is still unsatisfied. Mrs. Besant
is no trickster, but she has the same appetite for the hyper-
1 "Speeches at Trivandrum," quoted by Farquhar, Crown of Hinduism,
P- 336.
2 In Defence of Hinduism, p. 5. Mrs. Besant adds: "Any one who has
studied magnetism according to the European methods will at once see this
aspect of an idol, and will recognize the scientific wisdom of the Eastern
Sages in sanctioning the use of images."
3 See "Report of the Committee appointed to investigate Phenomena
connected with the Theosophical Society," in the Proceedings of the Society
for Psychical Research, vol. ui (London, Trubner, 1885), pp. 201-400.
230

THE RADHASOAMIS AND THEOSOPHISTS
physical that distinguished her predecessor. She is ambitious
of developing telepathic powers, and in fact has become an
adept in reading the thoughts of the people on Mars. Very
wisely she confines her attention to Mars, and specializes only
in long-distance telepathy. At the annual meeting of the T. S.
in Benares last year, I heard her declare (with great solemnity
and amid loud applause) that the Veda was eternal; that the
Upanishads were brought into India by the "Toltecs," the an
cient inhabitants of the sunken continent of Atlantis, at the
time when India was raised from the bed of the ocean; and that
she knew this because "occult research" had "recovered" a
large part of "the ancient Toltec literature."
If the reader is interested to learn more of the "results of
occult research," he will be able to satisfy the most rapacious
appetite in a book recently issued by Mrs. Besant and Mr.
C. W. Leadbeater entitled "Man, Whence, Why, and Whither.
A Record of Clairvoyant Investigation." x This book contains
the history of the universe from the earliest times onward.
A few sentences from it, taken entirely at haphazard, will
indicate its nature: —
"On Mars in the fourth Round we find a number of savages
who had not been sufficiently advanced to leave that globe
for the Earth when the mass of the egos went on in the pre
ceding Round. . . . Mars in the fourth Round felt a scarcity
of water and it was the Lords of the Moon who planned out
the system of canals," etc.
"The civilization of Peru in the thirteenth millennium B.C.
so closely resembled that of the Toltec Empire in its zenith
that," etc.
"From the small beginning of 60,000 B.C. there gradually
grew up a thickly populated kingdom which surrounded the
Gobi Sea. . . . This was the root-stock of all Aryan nations,
and from it went out — from 40,000 B.C. onwards — the great
migrations which formed the sub- Aryan races."
Having at last got the universe up to the year 1913 a.d.,
Mrs. Besant's clairvoyant powers seem to be exhausted. But
not so Mr. Leadbeater's. The distant future offers no more
difficulties to him than the thirteenth millennium B.C.; and
» Published by the T. P. S., 1913-
231

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
throughout Part III (entitled "Whither") he takes his
prophetic course, while nations fall and continents subside, —
"Unhurt amid the wars of elements,
The wrecks of matter, and the crush of worlds." '
The most interesting part of the book to me is the Preface,
for this describes the method by which the "research work"
was carried on. Mrs. Besant writes: —
"The research work was done at Adyar in the summer of
1 910; in the heat of the summer many of the students were
away, and we shut ourselves up so as to be uninterrupted, for
five evenings every week; we observed and said exactly what
we saw, and two members were good enough to write down all
we said exactly as we said it. In order to throw ourselves back
into the earliest stages we sought for our own consciousness,
present there, and easier to start from than anything else,
since no others were recognizable. They gave us, as it were,
a footing in the first as second chains." And she adds, with
a truthfulness that surely no one can dispute: "Work of this
kind might be done ad libitum if there were people to do it."
After reading things of this sort it is not surprising to learn
that the T. S. is losing its hold on many of its more intelligent
members. Already in 1895 a large portion of the American
Theosophists had left the Society and founded an independent
organization known as the "Universal Brotherhood and
Theosophical Society." The rebellion was led by Mr. Judge,
formerly Vice-President of the T. S., who upon Madame
Blavatsky's death was favored with a large number of letters
from the Great White Brotherhood in Thibet, indicating him
as the suitable President of the Society in place of Colonel
Olcott; but the Colonel, who was very familiar with the hand
writing of the Thibetan Sages, insisted that Judge's letters
were forgeries; and there was nothing left for the former Vice-
President to do but form a new Society of his own and get
what comfort he could from the love-letters of Koot Hoomi
and his Thibetan Brothers. In 1909 another split in the T. S.
1 Prophecy is not a new development in the T. S. The great H. P. B. set
the example in her famous book, "The Secret Doctrine," in which new
"sub-races" and "root-races" through "long millenniums" arise and play
, their parts before the eyes of those enlightened by Theosophic vision.
232

THE RADHASOAMIS AND THEOSOPHISTS
occurred, some seven hundred British Theosophists with
drawing from the Society in protest against the readmission
of Mr. Leadbeater, who four years previously had been ex
pelled because of various immoral teachings and practices of
which he had been found guilty.1 And quite recently nearly
all the German Theosophists, under the leadership of Dr.
Rudolf Steiner, have broken away and founded an independ
ent organization, the "Anthroposophical Society." Even in
the Indian Section the feeling of discontent and criticism is
present,2 and it has been brought to a climax by Mrs. Besant's
recent attempt to present Hinduism with a new Messiah in
the form of a rather commonplace native boy, whose father
had entrusted him to her charge, and who* she had entrusted
to Mr. Leadbeater for education. Her surprising revelation
that this young gentleman was the latest representative of
the Deity carried occultism too far for even the patient In
dian. Thus the influence of the Theosophical Society has suffered
a great check. Its most important institution, the Central
Hindu College, has declared its independence. Many of the
ablest and most important Indian Theosophists are sadly
abandoning the Society. And it would hardly be surprising
if we should find patriotic Hindus devoutly praying to all their
gods that the T. S., together with the writings of H. P. B. and
H. S. O. — yes, and even those of A. B. and C. W. L. —
might be wafted sweetly and swiftly on occult breezes to the
land of the ancient Toltecs.
For in spite of the unmistakable good that the Theosophical
Society has done in India its influence has had two results that
are quite as unmistakably evil. In the first place, at this time
when India is just awakening to modern thought and is in
such need of careful guidance, Theosophy has not only en
couraged most of its old superstitions, but has taught it to
identify science with obscurantism and occultism and to
found the new structure of its faith on those very shifting
1 See Farquhar's Modern Religious Movements in India, pp. 268-70, 274.
8 A Bengalee Brahmin, whose opinion of Theosophy I asked, answered
with a smile: "It has done something for the less intelligent Hindus: but
really Theosophy is child's play." 233

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
sands. And what is perhaps more dangerous still, in its blind
effort to attack "materialism" it has brought the spirit into
contempt and derision by spreading abroad the view that
"spirituality" means a belief in psychic planes, vibrations,
magnetism, and mantras. Surely not thus shall we triumph
over "materialism." Surely not such is the message that shall
set the spirit free.

CHAPTER XII
THE KABIR PANTHIS AND THE SIKHS
THE reader of ^Eschylus's "Agamemnon" will recall how
the news of the fall of Troy was flashed by signal fires
on mountain-tops all around the ^Egean, from Mount Ida, by
way of Lemnos, Athos, Cithaeron, and many another height,
until at last it reached the summit of Arachne and the royal
palace in Argos. In fashion no less striking surely has the
torch of spiritual insight been handed down through the
generations of men. We all know how true this has been of
Greece, Israel, and the modern West; and in India also the
same story has been repeated through the ages. The spiritual
light first kindled in the Upanishads has leaped across dark
centuries from peak to blazing peak, speaking ever in words
of flame the same eternal message which India has loved so
well. In a previous chapter we saw how the teachings of the Upan
ishads were systematized by Shankara in the ninth century,
and in the eleventh century united by Ramanuja with the more
theistic doctrines of the Bhagavad Gita. Ramanuja's is one of
the greatest names in all the history of "bhakti" — that in
tense personal devotion for a personal God which has had so
much more influence over the Indian people than even the
orthodox philosophy of Shankara, and which (despite many
points of controversy) shares with the more abstruse Vedanta
that most basal of all Indian conceptions, the union of the
human soul with the Divine. The light that streamed from
Ramanuja was caught up and handed on to many a lofty soul
through India's history. Perhaps the most important of the
spiritual leaders influenced directly by Ramanuja's teaching
was his fifth successor as head of the Vaishnavite order founded
by him. This man was named Ramanand, who lived in the
fourteenth century. He was one of those men, all too rare in
India though never wholly wanting, who was unwilling to
235

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
divorce religion from the welfare of society, and whose devo
tion to God made him all the more devoted to his fellow men.
Consequently he was among the foremost of his time to raise
his voice against caste; and being put out of his own order
for this offense he founded a new one, which should have room
for all. He was a man of large and democratic spirit and of
profound religious earnestness as well, not forgetting in his
reforming zeal the devotion to Rama (his name for God) which
he had learned from his great predecessor. "He spoke to the
people in their simple dialect, and among the twelve apostles
that he chose to help him in his work were a leather-worker, a
barber, a Mohammedan weaver, and a woman. From Ra
manand there went forth a mighty current of religious feeling
which still is not wholly extinguished. He preached the
gospel of Rama's boundless love for men of every race, order,
or creed. His sect is still numerous in northern India, chiefly
among the poorer classes, and the poems of Tulsi Das, a
product of the Ramananda revival, are the Bible of many
millions in the Hindi country. Caste has reasserted its power
over them, but the ideal remains." x
Ramanand spent most of his life in Benares; and tradition',
says that one of his disciples in that sacred city wasJKabir.
whose life extended through the larger part of the fif teetlth ceri
tury. Both Hindus and Mohammedans claim Kabir as theirs
by birth; and though the majority of his followers to-day are
from among the Hindus, it seems probable that he was born
a Mohammedan.2 However this may be, he was brought up
in a Moslem family and was influenced fully as much by Mos
lem as by Hindu ideas. He seems, moreover, from early youth :
to have realized that both Islam and Hinduism possessed
much precious truth, but that each taken by itself was nar
row and full of superstition, and it was the aim of his life to'.
teach a kind of universal theism which should include all that
was best in both the old religions and should be based neither
on the Veda nor on the Koran, but rather on the immediate
1 Howells, The Soul of India, p. 374.
2 This at least is Westcott's opinion. See his Kabir and the Kabir Panth
(Cawnpore, Christ Church Mission Press, 1907), pp. 32, and 44. Professor
Wilson held the opposite view. 236

THE KABIR PANTHIS AND THE SIKHS
apprehension of the Divine. With such views as these he
naturally found much in Indian society and the Indian reli
gions both senseless and evil. One of the earliest authorities
concerning him writes: —
"Kabir refused to acknowledge caste distinctions or to rec
ognize the authority of the six schools of Hindu philosophy.
... He held that religion without bhakti was no religion at
all, and that asceticism, fasting, and almsgiving had no value
if unaccompanied by worship. ... He imparted religious in
struction to Hindus and Mohammedans alike. He had no
preference for either religion, but gave teaching that was ap
preciated by the followers of both. He spoke out his mind
fearlessly and never made it his object merely to please his
hearers." x
As Kabir's writings and sayings 2 still form the most impor
tant part of the scriptures of his followers, they are of interest
not merely as ancient literature, but as living religious forces;
hence it will not be out of place here to quote two or three as
samples of what he taught four hundred years ago, and of
what his followers are at least supposed to believe to-day.
One of the chief topics of his instruction was the folly of caste,
and of idolatry and externalism.
" I and you are of one blood, and one life animates us both ;
from one mother is the world born; what knowledge is this
that makes us separate?" 3
"There is nothing but water at the holy bathing places; I
know that they are useless, for I have bathed in them.
"The images are all lifeless; they cannot speak; I know, for
I have cried aloud to them.
"The Purana and the Koran are mere words; lifting up the
curtain I have seen." *
"I laugh when I hear that the fish in the water is thirsty.
"You do not see that the Real is in your home, and you
wander from forest to forest listlessly!
1 Quoted by Westcott (p. 30) from Nabhaji, who wrote about 1700.
2 Contained in the Bijak and the Granth, and in various sakhis, or
couplets. 3 From the Bijak, quoted by Westcott, op. cit., chap. m.
4 One Hundred Poems of Kabir, translated by Rabindranath Tagore
(London, Macmillan, 1915), xlii. 237

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
"Here is the truth! Go where you will, to Benares or to
Mathura; if you do not find your soul, the world is unreal to
you." x
"So long as the sun does not rise the stars sparkle; so long
as perfect knowledge of God is not obtained men practice
ritualism." 2
"The jogis, ascetics, austere devotees and sannyasis wander
about at many places of pilgrimage; those with plucked-out
hair, those with the munj cord, the silent ones, those who are
wearing plaited hair, all are dying at the end. The Tantras
are attended to by them but not Ram. On whose tongue is
put the name of Ram, what can the God of Death do to
him? The Shastras, Vedas, astrology, and many, many gram
mars they know; they know the Tantras, Mantras, and all
medicines, yet at the end they must die. They enjoy domin
ion, an umbrella, and many beautiful women; betel, camphor,
perfume and sandal, yet at the end they must die. All the
Vedas, Puranas, and Smritis are searched by them, but in no
wise are they spared. Kabir says, Utter the name of God;
He extinguishes birth and death." 3
"O Sadhu! the simple union is the best.
"I shut not my eyes, I close not my ears, I do not mortify
my body;
"I see with eyes open and smile, and behold His beauty
everywhere; "I utter His Name, and whatever I see, it reminds me of
Him; whatever I do it becomes His worship.
"Wherever I go, I move round Him,
"All I achieve is His service;
"When I lie down, I lie prostrate at His feet.
"Whether I rise or sit down, I can never forget Him; for the
rhythm of His music beats in my ears." 4
"More than all else do I cherish that love which makes me
to live a limitless life in this world.
"It is like the lotus, which lives in the water and blooms in
1 One Hundred Poems of Kabir, xliii.
1 From the Bijak, quoted by Westcott.
• From the Granth, quoted by Westcott.
4 Tagore's translation, xli.
238

THE KABIR PANTHIS AND THE SIKHS
the water; yet the water cannot touch its petals, they open
beyond its reach." J
Kabir was often persecuted by both Mohammedans and \
Hindus, yet he gathered a considerable following from both
religions, and in the four hundred years since his death the
Kabir Panthis, as his followers are called, have steadily in- '
creased, so that at the time of the 1901 census they numbered
over 84O.O0O.2 Most of these are Hindus, though a few are
Mohammedans — for Kabir never succeeded in winning his
followers completely away from their old religions and blend
ing them into a new one. The Hindu Kabir Panthis are also
divided into two sects or orders, one of which has its head
quarters at the Kabir Chaura in Benares, while that of the
other is in the Central Provinces.3 Both these orders have
lay as well as clerical members, and each has its mahant or
guru, who represents Kabir. There are branch monasteries in
various parts of northern India, each having its own local
mahant, and each being the religious center for the lay mem
bers of the region. "The mahant is supposed to visit his dis
ciples at least once a year, to note the progress they have
made, to give instruction to them and to their families, and to
examine and receive into the order, if found qualified, such
candidates as may be brought to him."4 He must also report
in person to the head mahant at headquarters once a year.
The Kabir Chaura Math — the Benares headquarters — is
an interesting place, though not one that the tourist is likely
to stumble upon if walking about the city — or running
through his Murray. You must turn to the left from the
main street, drive down a narrow and winding lane that be
comes narrower and crookeder as you proceed till at last your
carriage gets stuck between the two walls and can go no
farther. You then get out and walk, diving into a still nar
rower lane between house and garden walls, and when you
1 Tagore's translation, xxrv.
2 According to Westcott (p. 2). Macnicol, in his recent book on Indian
Theism (Oxford University Press, 1915), places the number at "from eight
to nine thousand" (p. 136), but gives no authority for his statement.
Possibly this is merely an erratum for eight to nine hundred thousand.
' In the Chattisgarh District. See Westcott, chap. v.
1 Westcott, p. 118. 239

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
come to the proper gate, stoop and enter. The reader may
think my directions indefinite, but I can do no better! At
any rate, when you have passed through the little gate you
find yourself in a large paved court, at the farther end of
which is the room in which Kabir is supposed to have lived.
It contains a famous painting of Kabir with three of his dis
ciples, and also a pair of sandals intended to represent his
feet, and the pillow on which he is supposed to have sat.
Around the court are cells for the monks, and near its center
is a raised platform, fenced off from the rest of the pavement,
upon which stands what the visitor at first takes to be a little
temple. It is not a temple, however; at least not a temple in
the Hindu sense; for the Panth has been true to the teachings
of its founder and has carefully shunned the many gods of
Hinduism and their many idols. The building is only a "build
ing" — erected to mark and protect the spot where Kabir is
said to have sat when he taught his disciples or repeated with
untiring devotion the name of God. No image is here, but
only a cloth spread in the middle of the place, underneath the
graceful dome, ever decked with fresh flowers.
There are at present about twenty monks in residence at
this Math and in outward matters their life is rather similar
to that of Hindu sannyasins. They rise early and bathe —
though (as they were careful to tell me) not always in the
Ganges; for Kabir disabused his disciples of any superstitious
veneration for the sacredness of particular streams. After
their bath they pray and meditate. At noon their one meal
is brought to them. They do not go out and beg, for the lay
members provide for their wants. Few of them — so far as I
know, none of them — are learned ; but they read from Kabir's
writings — which is not difficult, as they are in the vernacular.
I asked them to whom they prayed, and they answered
quite simply, "To Kabir." "But who is your God?" I asked;
and again they answered quite naturally, "Kabir." "But to
whom did Kabir pray?" To this question they replied that
Kabir prayed to Ram, and that they pray to Kabir to pray
to Ram for them.1 Their assertion that Kabir was their God
1 According to Westcott, prayer for the Kabir Panthis consists chiefly
of meditation. 240

TEMPLE OF KABIR, AT THE KABIR CHAURA MATH, BENARES

THE KABIR PANTHIS AND THE SIKHS
should probably not be given too much weight: the Indian
guru always stands to so'ne extent in God's place for the
pious disciple. I do not uoubt that these monks and their
fellows are mono theists; yet it must be added that Kabir is
coming perilously near to deification.
In fact the contents of the later religious writings of the
Panth, as given by "estcott, show plainly that Kabir in the
eyes of many of his followers has assumed a position quite
comparable to that of Sri Krishna in the Bhagavad Gita.
Two other changes in the religion of Kabir, introduced by
recent generations and revealed in these books, are, first, an
increase of Hindu conceptions — especially that of Maya or
"Kal," with a corresponding tendency toward monism and
away from the personal monotheism of the founder; and
secondly, a greater emphasis on forms and externals. This
latter tendency is, of course, the invariable accompaniment
of a loss of inspiration; modifying Kabir's words quoted above
we might say: When the sun sets the stars begin again to
sparkle. Hand in hand with these changes in belief has gone a
similar change in the attitude of the Panth toward caste.
Kabir's insistence that distinctions of birth are of no impor- i
tance, that all men are brothers, is indeed still earnestly main
tained — so far as the four higher castes are concerned.
Shudras are accepted as readily as Brahmins, and in fact most
of the members of the Panth are Shudras. In theory, more
over, the Panth retains its founder's democratic doctrine that
all men are alike before God; but in practice men from the
"outcaste" castes are not wanted as members.
At the weekly and monthly devotional services x a good
deal of stress is laid upon form: many cocoanuts must be
ceremoniously broken; many betel leaves, properly prepared
with dew, must be consecrated and chewed; and that greatest
of Indian religious delicacies, the water in which the feet of
the guru have been washed, must be provided in abundance,
mixed with earth and made up into pills to be swallowed by
the faithful. Yet, in spite of this externalism, it is said that a
real devotion is displayed, and every day the hymns of Kabir
1 Held on Sundays and on the last day of the lunar month.
241

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
are devoutly sung. There is much in these meetings beside
the form. And as to the form itself, on what ground are we
justified in doubting the ability of piety and faith to turn even
the betel leaf into the bread of life? It is but a symbol after
all, and who are we to judge of others' symbols?
. The ceremony of the initiation, like the Sunday service, has
much of the external in it; but the ethical and genuinely reli
gious teachings of Kabir are not forgotten. "All who desire
to become members," writes Westcott, "are required to re
nounce polytheism and to acknowledge their belief in one
only God. They must also promise to eat no meat and drink
no wine; to bathe daily and sing hymns to God, both morning
and evening; to forgive those who trespass against them up
to three times; to avoid the company of all women of bad
character and all unseemly jesting in connection with such
subjects; never to turn away from their house their lawful
wife; never to tell lies; never to conceal the property of another
man; never to bear false witness against a neighbor or speak
evil of another on hearsay evidence."1
Kabir's attempt to form a new religion from the best parts
of Hinduism and Islam was not, it must be confessed, as
successful and lasting in its results as he probably hoped it
would be; but the attempt was certainly worth the making
and has by no means completely failed. In fact so obvious was\
the need for some such amalgamation in Kabir's time that a '
contemporary of his, up in the Punjab, devoted his life to the
same venture — and with results which have made much
greater impression on India than theKabir Panth has ever
been able to produce. This man wa JNanalA thy founder nf_

the Sikh religion. He was" born "hear iLahore about 1470, and
like Kabir was subject from birth to both Hindu and Moham
medan influences, and early gave signs of the intense religious
enthusiasm that was to be the propelling force of his whole life.
During adolescence he went through the stage of spiritual up-
turnings which is so common with American and European
youth; but in his case, instead of expressing itself in "convic
tion of sin" and conversion, it bodied itself forth in a vision of
God, which seems to have been the beginning of his special
1 Westcott, op. cit., p. 113.
242

THE KABIR PANTHIS AND THE SIKHS
religious vocation. For he now resigned the position which he
held, retired from the world, and together with his faithful
friend Mardana, he went wandering about the land, meditat
ing, discussing, teaching, composing hymns and singing them
to the accompaniment of the musical instrument played by
his friend. In the course of his travels he is said to have gone \
to Benares and to have come under the influence of Kabir. /
According to tradition this meeting was in Nanak's twenty-
seventh year, and when Kabir was a very old man. The^
similarity of Nanak's point of view to Kabir's, and the fact
that many of Kabir's hymns are given a place in the Granth,
go far to bear out the tradition of the meeting of the two men
and the influence of the older on the younger.
Nanak"o whole life, from the beginning of his mission to his
death, seems to have been that of a wandering ministrel, sing
ing the songs of God in all willing ears, from the sacred city
of the Hindus to the sacred city of the Moslems. For tradition
has it that he made a pilgrimage to Mecca where, in charac
teristic fashion, he got into trouble with some of the fanatical
pilgrims by protesting vigorously against their externalism and
almost idolatrous slavery to form. During his long life of wan^
dering he gathered about him many disciples from Mohamme
dans and from Hindus of all castes. Before his death he ap
pointed Angad to be his successor in the office of guru. His
followers were present in great numbers at the last to say
farewell; and when the end came the dying guru uttered the
Divine Name, "made obeisance to God, and blended his light
with Guru Angad's. The guru remained the same. There
rwas only a change of body produced by a supreme miracle."1
i Nanak's teaching was, as I have said, very like that of
j Kabir. And the differences which exist are apparently to be
attributed rather to differences in temperament than to any
real divergence in belief. Both men were reformers and both
were mystics; but in Kabir the mystic element seems to have
been rather stronger than in Nanak, while the active spirit of
protest and reform is more noticeable in Nanak than in
Kabir.2 Yet these differences are only slight. Like Kabir,
i l Macauliffe, The Sikh Religion, vol. I, p. 190.
2 This difference comes out in the attitude of the two men toward vari-
243

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
Nanak proclaimed the unity of God with all the vigor of\
Mohammedanism. Yet the God of Nanak, like that of Kabir,
is of the Indian rather than of 'the Semitic type. He lacks I
the anthropomorphism of Allah, and he has much of the
immanence of Vishnu, or even of Brahman. Moreover, even
the many gods of the Hindu pantheon are retained as sub-\
ordinate spirits — good and bad — Brahma, Vishnu, and )
Shiva being considered the first creations of the One God. In I
no way, however, does this acceptance of the Hindu devas
as subordinate beings militate against the monotheism of
Nanak, any more than the angels of Islam and Christianity
make those religions polytheistic. Not Kabir or Mohammed\
is more outspoken in attack upon polytheism and idolatry I
than is the founder of the Sikh religion. Nor does the doctrine/
of incarnation, so dear to the Vaishnavite, fare any better at
his hands. To externalism of all sorts, moreover, he was vio
lently opposed. And in social reforms no less than religious he
took an active part, opposing caste as Kabir had done, only
with greater success.
The Sikh view of the future life Nanak took over direct\
from Hinduism with little change. Transmigration and Karma 1
are accepted as a matter of course, and the final goal of man is I
reunion with God. God is often represented as light, and the/
soul of each of us as an emanation from It. Nirvana, or re-(
absorption into the Eternal Light, is the soul's aim and its]
great reward, — though for those less worthy a temporary J
heaven is provided. In Nirvana the soul blends its light with
the Supreme Soul, meeting it "as water blends with water."
The way to salvation, Nanak taught, is an inner pathway.
External forms and ascetic practices help not a whit. True\
devotion to God and meditation upon Him and selfless!
"work" done only out of love for God — these are the things/
that profit. In all this there is, of course, little new, little that
was not taught long before Kabir's time in the Gita and by
Ramanand — except that the protest against formalism had
ous Hindu customs. Kabir conformed to the traditional Indian diet, and
in fact emphasized the guilt of meat-eating. Nanak, on the other hand, —
owing perhaps in part to Mohammedan influences, — enjoined upon his
followers a flesh diet. 244

THE KABIR PANTHIS AND THE SIKHS
never been so absolute and so outspoken in any of the bhakti
schools. Another thing in which Nanak's way of salvation
resembled that of the great Vaishnavite teachers was the
emphasis which he put (as Kabir also had done) on the repeti
tion of the Name of God. For fear, however, of inducing a
relapse into the old forms of Hinduism, Nanak devised for
this purpose a new divine appellation, namely, Wahguru.1
The reverent and thoughtful repetition of this name he con
sidered a great help in meditation, and he enjoined its practice
upon his followers. Earnest meditation he regarded as the most \
important element in worship, and without it, he taught, no
one could reach Nirvana or even heaven.
The teachings of Nanak — which are of course the teachings
of the Sikh religion to-day — are, therefore, quite similar to>
those of the Hindu bhakti schools. They differ rather in
what they deny than in what they affirm. Nanak not only
opposed the doctrine of incarnation: he refused to accept any
of the sacred books — either Hindu or Moslem — as authori
tative; he opposed asceticism and professional begging, teach-\
ing his followers to earn their own living, to eat meat and live /
active lives; he would have nothing to do with caste distinc-\
tions and taught that all men were equal before God ; and his 1
constant endeavor was to make religion more simple, more/
inward, more spiritual.
Nanak discarded all authoritative books and relied upon
direct intuition of religious truth; but he realized that not
every one enjoyed such intuition to a degree sufficient for all
the needs of the moral and religious life. The rank and file of
his followers looked directly to him for guidance, and as guru
of the new-founded community he took the place of all in
spired books. So when he saw that his end was approaching^
he named one of his disciples, as I have said, to be the inspired I
guru^when he was gone. This man was Angad, and when his;
turn to depart into Nirvana arrived, in imitation of his Master
he chose a successor with whom he "blended his light." In'
this manner the divine inspiration — or rather, as the Sikhs !
maintain, Nanak himself — was handed on, like the flame
1 Concerning the meaning and derivation of which there is some con
troversy. 245

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
(from which successive candles are lighted, through ten gurus.
An inspired man, the early Sikhs believed, was much better
than an inspired book; and all the gurus were really one.1
Of the nine gurus who followed Nanak, only two need here
be mentioned, namely, Arjan and Gobind Singh. Arjan was
the fifth guru (the fourth after Nanak) and is memorable for
several things. He completed the great tank at Amritsar and
began the erection of the Golden Temple — the center of
Sikh worship — on an island in the middle of the tank. More
important than this, the fifth guru was a mystic and a true
poet, and not only did he add to the hymns written by Nanak
and his three other predecessors, but he collected all these
hymns, together with some by certain other saintly writers
such as Kabir, and published them in a volume known as the
"Granth Sahib" — or "Noble Book," "Holy Bible" — which
is to-day the Bible and Prayer-Book of the Sikh religion. But
Arjan was not only a poet and mystic: he had the stuff in him
that martyrs are made of. When the Moghul Emperor Jahan-
gir ordered him to erase certain parts of the Granth, he re
fused, replying firmly that he meant to maintain the integrity
of the inspired volume; and adding: "If in pursuance of this
object this perishable body must depart, I shall account it
great good fortune." z The Emperor's reply was to put the
guru to the torture. The guru died, but the Granth remained
untouched. But perhaps the act of the fifth guru most pregnant in con
sequences was his advice to his son and successor; namely, "to
sit fully armed on his throne, and maintain an army to the
best of his ability." 3 From this time on the Sikh community
1 " Nanak assumed the body of Angad,
Afterwards Nanak was called Amar Das,
As one lamp is lit from another.

The holy Nanak was revered as Angad,
Angad was recognized as Amar Das,
And Amar Das became Ram Das.
The pious saw this but not the fools,
Who thought them all distinct:
But some rare person recognized that they were one." "¦
(From the Granth of the Tenth Guru. Translation by Macauliffe.)
! See Dorothy Field, The Sikh Religion (London, Murray, 1914), p. 19-
3 Ibid., loc. cit.
246

THE KABIR PANTHIS AND THE SIKHS
gradually transformed itself from a group of religious mystics
into an army, and from a sect into a nation. The guru who
contributed most to this transformation was Gobind Singh.
He had been born and brought up in Patna (on the edge of
Bengal) and was deeply imbued with Hindu influences. It is
said that he was at one time a worshiper of Durga and even
made a human sacrifice to her. He was, according to Monier
Williams, "a curious compound of pugnacity, courage, super
stition, and fanaticism."1 It was he who completely made\
over the Sikhs into a nation of magnificent soldiers, who not j
only succeeded in defending their religion and their independ- \
ence from the Mohammedan rulers in the eighteenth century,
but were able in the nineteenth to carry on two severe wars i
with the British Empire, and later on to become its most trusty'
ally in the suppression of the Great Mutiny. Gobind Singh
was not only a soldier and ruler, but something of a poet as
well, and wrote a number of rather mechanically constructed
hymns, which after his death were put together into "The
Granth of the Tenth Guru" — the Granth compiled by
Arjan being called, in distinction, the "Adi," or "Original"
Granth. Both books are regarded with great reverence by the
Sikhs, but the Adi Granth is naturally much the more impor
tant and authoritative of the two.
For the Granth has become authoritative. When Gobind
Singh died he appointed no successor to the guruship except
the Granth itself. "After me," he said, "you shall everywhere
obey the Granth Sahib as your guru; whatever you shall ask,
it will show you." Thus the Sikh religion was placed on exactlyX
the sort of basis which its founder had intended it not to have,
exchanging the inspiration of a living teacher for the legalism/
of a written book.
The Sikhs to-day number a little over three million,1 most\
of whom live in the Punjab, though some are scattered over)
various parts of India and are found even as far away as
Upper Burma. If one may trust the census, their numbers
are increasing more rapidly than those of any other religion
in India except Christianity and Buddhism — their rate of
increase in the last ten years having been over ten per cent.
1 Brahmanism and Hinduism, p. 167. 2 To be exact, 3,014,466.
247

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
Some of this growth may perhaps be accounted for by the
fact that during the last decade the more liberal Sikhs have
readopted the democratic attitude toward caste that was
characteristic of Nanak and most of his successors in the guru-
ship. Gobind Singh in particular swelled the ranks of his
army by baptizing into the Sikh fold large numbers of out
castes. Since his day, however, the Sikhs have nearly lost theS
old democratic spirit and have become almost Hindu in their I
feeling for caste. They recognize no castes within their body,
but they will not intermarry with non-Sikhs — thus making /
their religious community itself a caste. During the last dec-/
ade, however, as I have indicated, the more liberal of their
number, spurred on by rivalry to the Arya Samaj which is so
strong in the Sikh country, have begun again admitting low-
caste Hindus into the fold. But another reason for the seeming
increase of the Sikhs is to be found in the fact that each census
unearths a large number of them who had in previous reports
been set down as Hindus.1 If this is at the bottom of their
seemingly rapid rate of increase, the increase, of course,
ceases to be significant. The fact, however, that so many
Sikhs have been uncertain whether or not they were Hindus
is significant.
The temples of the Sikhs do not differ so much from Hindu
temples as one would be led to expect, considering the Prot
estantism of the founder. What the visitor sees of them and
the worship within them is usually far from impressive. The
approach to the Golden Temple at Amritsar, for instance, is
lined with the usual display of Hindu beggars and ascetics,
and all the surroundings of the place are unusually dirty even
for India. And according to Professor Oman, the purlieus of
the sacred tank are no cleaner morally than they are physically.
The temple itself is certainly a beautiful building, and no
1 The 191 1 census seems to show an increase of thirty-seven per cent,
but a large part of this is due to the fact that half a million Sikhs in 1901
were put down as Hindus, because of their noncomformity to the rules of
Gobind Singh. This would bring the rate of increase down to something
over ten per cent. It is quite likely that some even of this ten per cent is
due to similar causes. See Oman's Cults, Customs, and Superstitious of
India (2d ed., London, Unwin, 1908), p. 102, and especially the quotation
from Macauliffe in the note. 248

GOLDEN TEMPLE, AMRITSAR

THE KABIR PANTHIS AND THE SIKHS
expense of marble and gold leaf has been spared to make it
impressive. Yet in spite of its magnificence, it is, from a reli
gious point of view, somewhat disappointing. The central
hall has, of course, been influenced by the Hindu temple, the
chief difference being that in place of Krishna's image or
Shiva's lingam you find an enormous copy of the Granth Sahib,
lying on an ottoman and covered over with a cloth. It is un
covered (so at least I was told by one of the temple priests)
at 5 A.M. and II p.m., when the priests read from it (intoning),
and hymns are sung — sometimes by a choir. During the rest
of the day the Granth Sahib simply sits on its ottoman, prop
erly veiled, receiving the reverence of visitors. Perhaps half a
dozen priests were sitting behind it when we entered the tem
ple, most of them engaged in conversation with each other,
while two of them lazily waved long brushes of peacock's
feathers and occasionally swept up with them the yellow mari
gold blossoms that were constantly being strewn around the
Granth Sahib by pious worshipers.
The worship of the Sikhs takes many forms. Perhaps the
most important part of it is the daily repetition of the Japji —
the longest of the hymns of Guru Nanak. "The Japji," writes
Macauliffe, "is considered by the Sikhs a key to their sacred
volume and an epitome of its doctrines. It is silently repeated
by the Sikhs early in the morning. Every Sikh must have it by I
heart, otherwise he is not deemed orthodox. It is the duty of •
all Sikhs, even if they cannot read, to have themselves taught
this great morning divine service." 1 The Japji is a hymn of ^
praise to the Supreme and contains many noble thoughts and
some true poetry. It is far too long to quote here entire, but a
few of its verses will give an idea of the whole: —
"Who can sing His attributes, His greatness, His deeds?
Who can sing Him who fashioneth the body and again destroyeth it?
Who can sing Him who appeareth to be far, but is known to be near?
Who can sing Him who is all seeing and omnipresent?
Praisers praise God, but have not acquired a knowledge of Him,
As rivers and streams fall into the sea but know not its extent.
Kings and emperors who possess oceans and mountains of property and
wealth ,
Are not equal to the worm which forgetteth not God in his heart.
1 Oman, op. cit., vol. I, p. 195. ' Macauliffe's translation, op. cit.
249

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
Beside the repetition of the Japji and the morning service
of intoning the Granth in the temple, the Sikhs have various
other forms of worship. Some visit the temple at any time of
day and there engage in individual devotion, intoning thehymns
of Nanak before the Granth. More often their worship con
sists of circumambulating the shrine five or more times. But
the commonest form of worship, if one may judge by what he\
sees in Sikh temples, consists in making offerings of flowers to
the Granth Sahib, the flowers (usually marigolds) being sprin- /
kled on the book or before it. This is true not only of the Sikhs
in Amritsar, but in various parts of India. In the Sikh temple
at Benares, in the shrine close to Ranjit Singh's tomb at Lahore,
in the very sacred temple that marks the spot of Gobind Singh's
birth at Patna, I have seen the same idolatrous reverence for
the Granth Sahib as at Amritsar. Farquhar writes that in
Conjeeveram he has been shown an altar on which fire sacri
fice is regularly performed to the Granth. In his Satyarth
Prakash, Swami Dayanand, the founder, of the Arya Samaj,
writes of the Sikhs: "Though they perform no idol-worship,
yet they worship their Granth more idolatrously. Is it not
idolatry? Idolatry is bowing to or worshiping any material
object. They have done exactly the same as the idolaters,
who have made idolatry a very lucrative business. Just as
the idolaters exhibit their idols to the people at large and re
ceive presents for their gods; so do the followers of the religion
of Nanak worship the Granth, allow it to be worshiped, and
receive presents for it." J
This sad development of the Sikh religion might very well
give us Christians food for thought. Just as Hindu temple wor
ship should be a useful warning to every Catholic, so the bib-
liolatry of the Sikhs should act as an object lesson to every
Protestant. Nanak's reform, like Luther's, was away from ex-\
ternal authority to living experience. Nanak's successors have/
almost defeated his spiritual purpose by making the Granth
into an idol. And have not some of Luther's successors come
perilously near to turning the Bible into a fetish? If one would
see the logical conclusion of slavery to the letter, let him go to
Amritsar and visit the Golden Temple. t
1 English translation, p. 363.
250

THE KABIR PANTHIS AND THE SIKHS
Not only in their attitude toward the Granth, but in other
matters has there been a decided falling-off among the Sikhs
from the purity of Nanak's teaching. The reverence which he
taught his disciples to cherish for their guru has degenerated
into guru worship. When I asked one of the Sikhs in the tem
ple at Patna whom he worshiped, he answered quite naively,
"Gobind Singh." A tablet attached to the gateway of the
Golden Temple speaks of Guru Ram Das as an incarnation of
Ram. Evidences of a relapse into Hinduism are to be found in \
most parts of the Sikh world. In fact one can hardly call it a '
relapse, for — owing largely to the early enmity of the Mo
hammedans — the Sikhs have always formed, in one sense,
merely a branch of Hinduism. I therefore should not have been
surprised (though I confess I was) to find the tomb of Guru
Arjan at Lahore adorned with pictures from Hindu mythology,
and to see a Ganesh over the entrance of the tomb of Ranjit
Singh, next door. The sacred tank at Amritsar has long been
lined with signs of encroaching Hinduism. When Monier
Williams visited it, nearly fifty years ago, an intelligent Sikh
whom he met there pointed to an idol of Krishna on the edge
of the lake and said, "We Sikhs are gradually lapsing back
into our old habits. Our first guru abolished caste and forbade
the worship of idols. Out tenth guru was a thorough Hindu
at heart and by his own example encouraged the return of
Hindu practices; so that of the Sikhs now found in the Pun
jab a large number adopt caste, wear the Brahmanical thread,
keep Hindu festivals, observe Hindu ceremonies such as the
shraddha, and even present offerings to idols in Hindu tem
ples." 1
There have been for years two parties among the Sikhs, one
of them nourishing the spirit of reform and protestantism, the
other favoring the retention of all the Hindu forms and usages
that have crept into their religion. But the rank and file of the
Sikhs, I imagine, belong to neither of these parties, — at least
not consciously, — but find the questions of their relation to
Hinduism — and most other theoretical questions — rather
vague and decidedly uninteresting. A Sikh whom I found
away up in Mandalay — and who seemed to be an unusually
1 Brahmanism and Hinduism, p. 178.
251

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
intelligent and fervent believer — told me he had never heard
of any of his co-religionists worshiping Ganesh or any Hindu
god, or anything but the Granth Sahib. For his own part, at
any rate, he knew that he worshiped the Granth Sahib and
nothing else. I asked him if he worshiped God, and he said,
"Yes." Then I said, "Have you two Gods, namely God and
the Granth?" — to which he answered, "No." "We worship
God through the Granth," he explained. "And when we wor
ship the Granth it is not the paper and ink that we worship,
but the words and ideas, which are those of God." All good
Sikhs, he said, were supposed to read the Granth every day,
and to go to the temple and hear it read there on Sundays. He
showed me his own little well-thumbed copy of the Japji —
for he had no copy of the whole Granth. This, he said, he used
in prayer. All his prayers consist of recitation or reading from\
some passage of the Granth, and this, he said, was true of most ]
Sikhs. They make no spontaneous prayers or petitions of their/
own, but find in the Granth suitable prayers for anything that
they need. About the next world he seemed to know — and
think — very little. He had a confused idea that if he were
good he would go after death to heaven for a great many lakhs
of years, and then start again on the wheel of birth beginning
with animal forms; but he seemed quite uncertain about it,
and apparently the hope played a very small part in his life.
The Sikhs as a class seem to be a manly lot, and they cer
tainly make fine soldiers. They do not, however, seem to be
particularly noted for intelligence or education. And in reli
gious education they seem to be not much better off than the
average. Parents teach their children the Japji, but how much
of it they understand is a question. Nanak wrote his hymns
in the vernacular, but the vernacular of four hundred years
ago is not the vernacular of to-day; hence the meaning of the
Granth, in its ancient Punjabi, is rather blind to most or its
readers — or reciters. And of course the great majority of the
Sikhs cannot read even the language which they speak. More
over, out of consideration for the weakness of the flesh and
the necessities of business, the leaders allow their followers to
do their Granth reading by proxy.1
1 According to Oman: Cults, Customs, and Superstitions of India, p. 93>
252

THE KABIR PANTHIS AND THE SIKHS
The Sikhs of to-day, however, are waking up, with the rest \
of India, to the need of reform and of education. A growing
self-consciousness has tended to prevent further encroach- /
ments of Hinduism. The idols which had found their way into '
the Golden Temple were thrown out in 1905. And perhaps
more important, a movement has been set on foot for real
education, and the community is now supporting forty-six
schools for boys, thirty-three for girls, and a college — not to
mention a "Sikh Educational Conference" which meets annu
ally to discuss educational questions and raise funds. In mat
ters pertaining more strictly to religious education and propa
ganda, new efforts are also being made. A Tract Society, a
"Young Men's Sikh Association" and a "Khalsa1 Young
Men's Association" have been founded, and twenty or thirty
evangelists and missionaries have been set to work, preaching
the gospel of Nanak to Sikhs and non-Sikhs.2
In spite of these incipient reforms it is evident that the orig-\
inal inspiration of Nanak and the early gurus has been largely J
spent. Whether it can ever be rekindled so as to be again af
really significant spiritual power seems rather questionable.'
The same thing may be said with equal truth of the movement
started by Kabir. And yet the inspiration and insight for
which Kabir and Nanak stood has not been lost. The followers
of these seers, dwelling in the darker valleys, may at times have
forgotten the light; but the light itself, like the fiery message
in the "Agamemnon," has been handed on from headland to
headland, and is the living truth for India to-day as it was
when the ancient Rishis penned the first Upanishads.
1 "Khalsa" is a name for the Sikh community.
! These facts concerning the reform movement are drawn from Farquhar's
Modern Religious Movements in India, pp. 341-43;

CHAPTER XIII
THE JAINAS
THE various reform movements of modern India are not
the only ones to which Hinduism has given birth. India
has always been a land of thought (as well as of tradition),
and from times that antedate history, little bands of relatively
independent thinkers have arisen within the fold of Hinduism,
giving expression sometimes to reforming protests, sometimes
to new philosophies. The overwhelming majority of these
children of Hinduism have quickly or slowly sunk back into the
capacious arms of their ever-patient mother and lost all inde
pendence in her strong embrace. A very few have retained
their individuality and become separate religions. By far the
greatest of these is, of course, Buddhism. But Buddhism is
not the oldest. The title to this position of oldest non-Hindu,
native Indian religion belongs to the faith of a small group of
monks and laymen, numbering now but a million and a quar
ter, and known as the Jainas.
The man who put this religion into something like its pres
ent shape was a contemporary of Buddha, but rather older
than he; and if we may believe the Jaina of tradition (as schol
ars are beginning to do), he was not actually the originator of
the sect which follows his teachings; he merely handed on with
certain modifications a line of thought and practice which was
already old in his day. This man is known by several names,
but the commonest of them is Mahavira, which means "Great
Hero." He is also called the Jina or the "Conqueror," because
he learned how to master himself and conquer Fate, and taught
men how to do the same. It is from this epithet of his that his
religion takes its name; for the "Jainas" are the "Conquer
ors." Mahavira is said to hare been born about 600 B.C. and to
have died about 527. Like his younger contemporary, Buddha,
he spent his life teaching the truths which he had in part re
ceived, in part discovered, and at his death he left behind him
an organized body of monks and also many lay followers.
254

THE JAINAS
The most important event in the history of Jainism subse
quent to the death of Mahavira was the great schism that took
place about 300 B.C.1 as a result of which the Jainas have been
divided, up to this day, into two separate bodies which have
but little to do with each other. The division took place over
the question of the more or less rigorous maintenance of the
ancient rules of the order. To us, to-day, the particular points
at issue seem trivial; but they were serious matters in 300
B.C. The chief controversy was over the costume of the monk.
Mahavira had taught that the monk should eschew all cloth
ing — for nakedness has always been regarded in India as a
sign of peculiar sanctity. At the time of the schism one party
had so far yielded to the conventions of the times as to adopt
clothing, and called themselves the "Svetambaras," or "those
clad in white." The more conservative section would have no
fellowship with those who yielded thus shamelessly to the
weakness of the flesh, and broke off relations with them, being
known by the picturesque title "Digambara," or "clad in the
sky"; for they retained the sky as their only garment. A third
great sect, the Sthanakavasi, established itself about five hun
dred years ago, branching off from the Svetambaras as a pro
test against the use of images. Each of these three sects has
its own canon of sacred scriptures, that of the Svetambaras
being the oldest, and dating in its present form from about
450 A.D., though based on books that probably were in exist
ence at the time of the great schism. The Digambaras reject
the Svetambara canon and have one of their own — which in
fact is based on the Svetambara version ; while the Sthanakavasi
canon is merely a selection from the Svetambara books. Each
of these three great sects, in proper protestant fashion, has
subdivided and blossomed in various ways;2 so that at present
there are nearly ninety subdivisions of Jainism. Fortunately
there is beginning to-day a tendency in the opposite direction
1 The real division seems to have come at this time, though the two
sects were not officially and explicitly divided until the first or second
century a.d.
2 That this process began fairly early and continued through centuries
is shown by the numerous lists of Teachers and subdivisions in the Jaina
inscriptions. See Guerinot, Ripertoire d'Epigraphie Jaina (Paris, Leroux;
1908), esp. pp. 35-68. 255

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
and a real desire for unity among the Jainas — as we shall see
later on in this chapter. The tendency is only a beginning, but
it is hopeful because the differences between the various sects
and sub-sects are minute and purely external, while on the
great fundamentals of their religion they are in perfect
accord. These fundamentals go back to the teachings of Mahavira
and arise out of the great problem of his times and the great
problem of all times: What must I do to be saved? As we know
from Buddhist sources, the age of Gautama and Mahavira
was one in which this problem of the liberation of the soul was
taken very seriously. Buddha enumerates some sixty-two an
swers proposed by various sects and teachers to the great
question. Popular Indian religion taught that the performance
of various rites to some God was the road to salvation. Philo
sophical Brahmanism taught that it could be won only through
recognition of the identity of the soul with Brahman. Buddha
had his solution. And Mahavira had his. Now, the problem
of salvation is complex.1 It involves one's conception of the
whole world, of the soul, its nature and ideal, and of the rela
tion of the soul to the world and to that part of it which in
a special way it inhabits — namely, the body. The Jaina solu
tion of this complex problem is characteristically Indian, yet
quite unique. It rejects Brahman, and, in one sense, all the
gods, accepts the material world and the individual soul as
equally real, adopts Karma, and by one stroke seeks to explain
both the relation of soul and body, the ideal to be attained,
the obstacles in the way, and the means of reaching the goal.
, This it does by identifying Karma with body. Why has the soul
\ a body, and how is this built up? The Jaina answers: It is
[because by yielding to impulses and attractions one draws
around one's true self subtle particles of real physical matter
which one takes with him to the next birth as his Karma, and
which determine his characteristics and his fate in the next
life. It is from this wretched body of ours — both gross and
subtle — that all our ills, our sins and sorrows and stupidities
1 Hence all of the "Three Jewels" of Jainism are requisite — namely,
"Right Knowledge, Right Faith, Right Conduct." Cf. the "Triple Gem"
of the Buddhists. 256

THE JAINAS
arise. And the aim of all life is to strip off layer after layer of
these clinging fetters, until at length the soul is free, —
"Leaving its outgrown shell by Life's unresting sea."
The view is summarized as follows by a recent English con
vert to Jainism, Mr. Herbert Warren : —
"We and all other living beings on this earth are from one
point of view uncreate, self -existent, immortal, individual souls,
alive with feeling and consciousness, and never to lose our
own identity. We are each of us responsible to others for
our conduct toward them. We are responsible to ourselves
for our own condition. In whatever degree we are ignorant, in
pain, unhappy, unkind, cruel, or weak, it is because since birth,
and even previously in the infinite past, we are and have been
acquiring and incorporating into ourselves — by the attrac
tion and assimilation of subtle, unseen, though real physical
matter — energies [Karma] which clog the natural wisdom,
knowledge, blissfulness, love, compassion, and strength of the
soul, and which excite us to unnatural action. Until we leave
off this unnatural kind of life, by refusing to obey impulses and
promptings which by our own conscience and understanding
we believe to be wrong, and which are only the blind auto
matic operation of those unnatural though sometimes power
ful energies in us [Karma], the peace of mind which is insep
arable from a life of rectitude, and the final pure natural state
of existence in everlasting blissfulness [Moksha] must remain
nothing more than matters of faith and hearsay." J
To this summary I need add but a few details. According to
the Jaina system, the universe is unending and uncreate.
There is no God, but only eternal souls and the eternal ele
ments. The universe is made up of the two grand divisions of
jivas, or living things, and ajivas, or non-living things. These
latter are five in number, namely: (i) Motion; (2) Inertia; (3)
Space; (4) Time; and (5) Sensuous Qualities, or a mysterious
substance possessing them.2 The reader will probably note
1 Jainism (Madras, Minerva Press, 1912), pp. 4-5.
1 It is difficult to know exactly what the Jainas include under this fifth
class. Their technical word for it is Pudgalastikaya, which Mrs. Sinclair
Stevenson translates "matter which possesses colour, smell, taste and
form, and is perceptible to touch." (The Heart of Jainism [Oxford Uni-
257

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
with some surprise that ordinary matter is not in this list. It is
odd to find that the Jainas, who in their explanation of the
soul's Karma are so naively materialistic, when they come to
deal directly with what we know as matter may almost be
called panpsychists. For matter, or at any rate a great deal
of it, is for them the lowest form of life, and is at least poten
tially conscious. Mahavira thus by many a century antici
pates Leibnitz. Stones and lumps of earth, water — yes, even
such things as wind and atoms — are for the Jainas living
beings,1 — jivas — and as such members of the great line of
evolution which leads up through plants, animals, and men to
the liberated spirits who have perfect knowledge, being no
longer closed grossly in by the muddy vesture of our clay. To
rise in the scale and become freed from body and its woes is or
should be the aim of all. But this is difficult, because subtle
matter pours into our souls through forty-two different chan
nels (seventeen major and twenty-five minor) and thus forms
the eight different kinds of Karma which we carry with us
into the next life. (The writers of the Jaina sacred books are
very systematic thinkers and particularly "strong" on arith
metic. They know just how many different kinds of different
things there are in the universe and they have them all tab
ulated and numbered, so that they shall have a place for
everything and everything in its place.)2 These forty-two
versity Press, 1915], p. 108.) But it evidently is not "matter" in our sense
of the word, since "things belonging to this earth, such as stones, lumps
of clay, salts, chalk, diamonds, and other minerals," and also "water, rain,
dew, fog, melted snow, melted hail, fire, a magnet, electricity, a meteor,
flintstone sparks," as well as air and "all sorts of wind," all are classed
under one of the five kinds of jiva, or living things. It would therefore seem
that Pudgalastikaya can hardly mean matter, and it is perhaps best to
translate it by the ambiguous phrase, "substance possessing sensuous
qualities." These sensuous qualities, it will be noted, are regarded as exist
ing objectively — a rather odd view for a panpsychist.
1 The attempt to take a realistic view of matter and to explain various
characteristics of the soul by means of it, and at the same time to explain
matter as being in itself composed of jivas, or souls, indicates a confusion
of thought. If matter is really soul, then how are the soul's qualities and
its fate to be explained by means of matter?
* Thus jiva may be classified in thirteen different ways; there are five
kinds of ajiva, nine kinds of merit, and forty-two fruits of merit; there are
eighteen kinds of sin, eighty-two results of sin, and eight kinds of Karma;
the channels by which Karma enters, as has been said, number seventeen
258

THE JAINAS
" Asravas," inflowings, as they are called, are various passions,
particularly anger in all its possible shades of strength, to
gether with pride, illusion, lack of self-control, etc. ; in short,
be it noted, they all belong to the moral category.
It is these forty-two classes that determine our Karma. To
gether with all other religions native to India, the Jainas lay
great stress on Karma as the one satisfactory and complete
solution of the problem of the ills of life. In fact, they carry it
into even greater detail than do the Hindus, for the elaborate
systematization found in their sacred books enables them not
only to say in a general way that So-and-So must have been a
sinner in a previous existence, but in certain cases to analyze
his symptoms so as to determine exactly the nature of his for
mer sins. Thus, Mrs. Sinclair Stevenson writes of a Jaina gen
tleman who told her "that as his family consisted only of
daughters, he found it a great expense to marry them all off,
but he dared not complain, as all his friends assured him it was
only his just punishment for having misappropriated funds in
a previous existence." l A sad example of this belief in Karma
is the Jaina doctrine that if a child-wife loses her husband it is
as a punishment for having been unfaithful to a husband in a
previous existence. Surely the little widow is not greatly com
forted by believing in her own guilt, nor is her lot made the
more bearable by those around her because of their certainty
that through her sins she was responsible for her husband's
premature death.
Rebirth in another human body is not the only possible fate
provided by Jaina philosophy. A wicked man may in his next
incarnation be born an animal or even a vegetable. And this
for the Jaina is no joke. In spite of the Indian's consideration
for animal life, there would be little pleasure in being born a
dog in India, and (as Mrs. Stevenson suggests) consider the
humiliation of being a potato, or perhaps an onion ! But worse
than that is the fate of being born in one of the hells — and
there are seven of them. And though punishment in hell is
major and twenty-five minor; Karma may be impeded in just fifty-seven
ways and destroyed by six austerities; there are four kinds of bondage to
Karma; and fifteen kinds of beings inhabit Moksha.
1 Notes on Modern Jainism (Oxford, Blackwell, 1910), p. 78.
259

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
not eternal, the wicked go there for long-term sentences and
emerge from them, as a rule, only through the lower forms of
vegetable and animal life.
But if there are seven hells, there are twenty-six heavens.
The lower are not altogether void of pain and imperfection;
but joy predominates, and there is a steady progress from one
to the other (with occasional rebirths as ascetics) until one
reaches Moksha, where every perfection dwells. Here finally
one becomes free from body and free from all the eight kinds
of Karma. Endless bliss is here, as distinct from pleasure, for
here at length one becomes pure Soul.
The Jaina books describe minutely the process of spiritual
evolution that leads the natural man on and up. until at last
he attains to Moksha. In proper systematic fashion, moreover,
this process is divided into exactly fourteen stages. The des
cription of it forms thus a kind of psychology of conversion.
It is not possible, however, for all human beings to advance
indefinitely upon this path to liberation in the present life.
Although in theory the Jaina religion is open to all, the best
course for the low-caste aspirant for Moksha is to die and be
reborn in a higher caste; for there is no place for him, in his
present vile state, within a Jaina temple. For the Jainas keep
caste (though not so rigidly as the Hindus), and in fact are
divided by caste lines among themselves. And not only the
Pariah, but even high-caste women also, — including the nuns
themselves, — find it hard to rise very high on the Jaina ladder
to salvation. According to the Digambaras no woman can
reach higher than the eighth step of the ladder; while the Sve
tambaras and Sthanakavasis insist that, though some women
may attain to the highest stage, only twenty women actually
do so for every one hundred and eight men. Even for men who
have not turned monks the prospect of Moksha is not bright.
And as a matter of fact the discussion of all these possibilities
turns out to be rather academic, since we are informed that no
one can enter into Moksha for the next 18,548 years anyhow.
The last man who entered into Moksha died three years after
Mahavira; and no one else is to be admitted during the rest of
this cycle — which is to last until the year A.D. 20,463. Hence
it behooves the pious Jaina to cultivate the virtue of patience.
260

THE JAINAS
Patience, however, is a virtue not uncommon in India, and the
Jaina is not so foolish as to "try to hustle the East," and still
less the East's Providence. There are many good things this
side of Moksha; and I am not sure but they attract the lay
brother quite as much as the rather dull state of Moksha,
which, as we shall see, appears to be characterized chiefly by
indifference to everything.
But the state of Moksha remains, at least in theory, the
bright ideal of Jainism; and the twenty-four Tirthankaras,
together with many lesser lights, have entered into it. The
Tirthankaras are regarded by the Jainas as at once the found
ers or revealers and the ideals of their religion. The last of
them was Mahavira, the historical preacher. But, as I said
at the beginning of this chapter, it is probable that Mahavira
had predecessors; and the Jainas have given him twenty- three
of them, each with a name and date of his own. They are
known as Tirthankaras, or "ford-finders," because it was they
who discovered a way through the wild waters of this world
into the realm of the ideal. They are accepted by the Jainas
(and Mrs. Besant) as historical characters; in fact, Mrs. Besant
assures the Jainas that the only reason European scholars
doubt the historicity of any of these ancient gentlemen is
because young Europe is jealous of the antiquity of Asia.
Antiquity they certainly have, if we may believe the Jainas.
The first of them, "Lord Adinath" or "Rishabhadeva," ap
peared 100,000,000,000,000 palya ago. Now, a palya is the
length of time it would take to empty a well a mile square
stuffed full of fine hairs, if one hair were pulled out every
century.1 But the Tirthankaras are of importance to the Jainism of
to-day not chiefly in their capacity of historical or mythical
founders and revealers, but as ideals set for the emulation of
their followers. They are supposed to have attained to Moksha,
or something very like it, in this life; for Moksha, or heaven,
to the Jaina is not so much a place as a state of mind. It is a
place, too, no doubt — the highest point in the universe, to
1 Incidentally, let me add, Lord Adinath seems to have been sadly at
tached to this wicked world, for he had to live 8,400,000 years before he
succeeded in attaining to Moksha. 261

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
which the soul floats up (by the laws of gravity) 1 after having
got rid of all matter. This is the rather naive and realistic side
of their doctrine. But the emphasis is laid upon the spiritual
rather than upon the materialistic side, and the characteristics
of Moksha most commonly thought of are its psychical ones.
It is these that are of interest to us as having influence over
the life of the Jainas and coloring their ideals. One of my Jaina
friends described the Tirthankaras in Moksha as being immor
tal and dwelling in perfect freedom forevermore. They have
won eternal peace — they are the " Conquerors " — and have no
more to fear. This means, he said, that they are without need,
without care, without desire, without relation to the chang
ing. Though conceived as having infinite power, they never
use it, for they want nothing. When asked as to the nature of
their consciousness, my friend could not tell me. Certainly
they are conscious, he said ; but apparently they are not think
ing of anything. They are free from the particular. Their con
sciousness is a state of peace raised to the highest degree. And
they are, of course, out of all relation to us and quite uninflu
enced by anything that we can do or say.2 To this description
the books in their systematic fashion add certain other marks.
The Tirthankaras — or any one else who has attained to
Moksha — has exactly eighteen characteristics, most of which,
on examination, prove to be of a negative sort. Anger, lust,
greed, ignorance, sleepiness, desire are gone. Gone also are all
sorrow, pleasure, and sense of humor; for (as the Jainas explain)
the sense of humor being due to some unfamiliar connection of
ideas, it is impossible to one who has attained complete knowl
edge. But the chief characteristic of Moksha is the absence of
attachment, the killing-out of desire, which forms so important
a part of the Buddhist Nirvana. In Moksha one attains com
plete indifference to all that happens; and thus becomes inde
pendent and free. It is related of Mahavira that, even in this
1 Dante seems to have had a conception of the ascent of the soul, up
ward from the earth, in some ways similar to the Jaina view. See the
Paradiso, canto I.
* According to Mrs. Stevenson it is the Tirthankara in his capacity of
man rather than as a siddha, or inhabitant of Moksha, that is worshiped.
This, however, is a rather fine distinction, and it is doubtful whether many
of the Jainas know anything about it.
262

THE JAINAS
life, " he was indifferent alike to the smell of ordure and of san
dalwood, to straw and to jewels, dirt and gold, pleasure and
pain, attached neither to this world nor to that beyond, desir
ing neither life nor death." 1
In strict theory, as I have said, the Tirthankaras are merely
ideals for the emulation of the brethren. They are far from
being gods; yet they are the nearest approach to gods that the
orthodox Jaina possesses, and they are commonly referred to
as divine. In this respect Jainism recalls forcibly Comte's
"Religion of Humanity." Both systems are emphatically
atheistic, yet both feel the need of some semi-divine ideal as a
help to the weakness of our flesh. And both seek to turn their
philosophy into religion by setting up for our admiration and
our worship a group of human beings who are conceived as
having gone through what we are experiencing, and as having
conquered and become all that we hope to be. The system of
Mahavira, however, has an advantage over that of Comte in
choosing for its ideals certain almost unknown or quite mythi
cal personages, who therefore can be endowed by the imagina
tion with every virtue; and the further and greater advantage
that its conquerors are conceived as having conquered death as
well as sin, and as dwelling in the glorious light of an eternal
and self-conscious life; whereas Comte's ideals are ideals only,
themselves dead and gone long ago, and existing now only in
the memories of us frail creatures of a day, who are so soon to
follow them into the thoughtless abyss of an endless night,
in which shall perish also all influence and trace of vice or
virtue. The Tirthankaras, then, are the ideals and Moksha the goal
of Jainism; and the attainment of this goal is what it means
by salvation. We can, therefore, now come nearer to the great
question : What must I do to be saved? What, in other words,
are the means laid down by Jainism for the checking of Karma
and the purifying of the soul?
The most elementary and fundamental of these means are
the five great vows or rules of conduct, and the seven supple
mentary ones, which every layman is supposed to observe.
1 Kalpa Sutra, 119. (Jacobi's translation, S.B.E. Vol. x, American ed.
New York, Scribners, 1901.) 263

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
The first of these is the famous "ahimsa" vow against the
taking of life.1 With the monk this is an exceedingly serious
matter — as the reader will see if he recalls how far life is sup
posed, by Jaina philosophy, to extend. But to the layman the
vow is somewhat softened down by the exclusion from it of
jivas with only one sense; that is, what we should call non
organic things, such as earth, water, and air, and also most veg
etables and fruits. These the Jaina layman may slay and eat.
Even with this limitation, however, the vow has certain very
far-reaching effects. For one thing it makes all Jainas vegeta
rians. There are, moreover, certain kinds of vegetables, such
as carrots, potatoes, turnips, — in short, all that grow under
ground, — which are conceived of as not merely being alive
but as having many lives in one body; and these the good Jaina
must not eat.2 In spite of these restrictions, however, the diet
of the Jaina can have considerable variety, and with good
cooking can be very tasty. I had lunch at the Svetambara
rest-house and school in Benares and can testify to the pleas
ant flavor of the twenty-one different kinds of food that were
served. Eating by lamp light is forbidden, since the lamps
may kill many insects. Even certain kinds of occupation are
precluded by this rule of ahimsa, including agriculture and
most manufacturing. For ploughing may destroy much an
imal and vegetable life (not to mention the clods of earth
which include innumerable living things); and manufacture
usually involves fire or some other danger to insects. Hence,
most of the Jainas are dealers in jewels, money-lenders, or law
yers, or have some equally innocent profession. They may also
1 Cf. the vows of the Hindu monk, p. 155 of this book.
2 The rule against the eating of these vegetables is being modified by
some of the more liberal Jainas, as will be seen from the following extract
from the Jaina Gazette for November, 1914. The students of a Jaina board
ing-school in Allahabad, it seems, recently formed an association whose
excellent work is reported in the article referred to, which then continues:
"That its work has been appreciated by those who have come in contact
with it may in some measure be inferred from the valuable assistance given
us by the secretary of the Jaina boarding-house, by considering our requests
and making arrangements that they should be granted. Modification in
the rules of the Jaina boarding-house in the matter of food-restriction is due
to this fact and the students are not prohibited now from eating potatoes.
The association is very grateful to him." 264

THE JAINAS
be landowners, so long as they do not themselves cultivate their
land, but let it out to the wicked for that purpose.
A more pleasing, though hardly less bizarre, result of the
law of ahimsa is the establishment by the Jainas of numerous
animal asylums and hospitals. Sickly and crippled cows, dogs,
horses, etc., are gathered and cared for by these oddly tender
hearted people. The animal asylum in Ahmedabad — a kind
of Old Animals' Home — contains about eight hundred four-
footed lodgers, besides many winged guests; and no one knows
how many hungry insects, to whom, in fact, one entire room is
devoted. One also occasionally sees a Jaina (or a Hindu) going
along the roadside and sprinkling food near ant-hills for the
nourishment of the little inhabitants. Doubtless in their solici
tude for animal life the Jainas are often absurd. Yet the accusa
tion of being too kind to animals is not altogether dishonorable.
And in India, as well as in many Christian countries, there is
crying need of more sympathy with our four-footed brothers.
To the honor of the Jainas be it said one cannot read far in
modern Jaina publications without coming upon appeal after
appeal for greater kindness to the dumb and suffering brutes.
For the vow not to kill is not merely negative. "The man who
takes this vow must avoid five faults in the treatment of ani
mals: he must never tie an animal up too tightly; beat it un
mercifully; cut its limbs; overload or overwork it; or neglect
to feed it properly." x
The second vow is against lying, dishonesty, and exaggera
tion. The third is against stealing. "In especial, a man is
warned never to buy stolen property, never to encourage an
other in thieving, never to act seditiously, to smuggle or to
work in any way against the Government; nor to use false
weights or measures, to adulterate goods or to sell them false
to sample."2 It is said that some of the Jaina merchants adopt
a liberal interpretation of the second and third vows. The
fourth rule is against adultery or incontinence. The Jainas
regard all sexual relations as obstacles in the progress of the
soul, since they tend to increase the influx of Karma. Hence,
for one who is really in earnest about his salvation the celibate
life is best. Yet marriage is not wrong — if conjugal fidelity
' Mrs. Stevenson, The Heart of Jainism, p. 206. ! Ibid., p. 208..
265

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
and a fair amount of continence be observed; and in fact the
Svetambaras even permit a man to have two wives if it is clear
that the first wife can bear no children. The fifth vow is in
tended to prevent covetousness or inordinate desire for posses
sions by inducing the individual to set an arbitrary limit on
the amount of worldly goods which he will ever acquire. It
reads thus: " I take a vow not to possess more of the following
things than I have allowed myself: a certain fixed quantity
of houses and fields, of silver and gold, of coins and grain, of
two-footed or four-footed creatures, furniture and plenishing.
Beyond this limit I will regard nothing as my own posses-
sion. *
Of the seven remaining vows one enforces hospitality toward
Jaina monks, while the six others are concerned with the
training of the mind. Some of these are vows which one occa
sionally takes to perform certain acts of slight asceticism, such
as limiting, either for a short period or for life, the number of
places one will visit, the number of things one will use, the
different foods that he will eat, etc. One vows, for instance,
that for a month he will not touch his favorite food; or in the
morning he pledges himself to sit down on no more than a cer
tain number of seats that day. This sort of thing to us West
erners seems absurd; and with what judgment we judge we
are judged. It seems absurd to us partly because we fail to
realize that self-control is a habit which must be cultivated
if it is to be attained, and that slightly ascetic tasks are to
the moral athlete what dumb-bells and chest-weights are to the
gymnast; and largely because the highest form of self-control
— the complete dominance of the flesh by the spirit — does
not appeal to us as particularly desirable.
In addition to these twelve vows, the Jaina books detail
some fifty-seven different ways in which Karma may be im
peded and the soul gradually freed. In general, however, they
cover much the same ground as the twelve vows, and we need
not go into them here. Most of them have to do with slighdy
ascetic practices, — mind training, inhibition of evil or weak
ening thoughts, and the direction of the mind in proper chan
nels through contemplation of suitable subjects.
1 Mrs. Stevenson, op. cit., p. 209.
266

THE JAINAS
The reader must bear in mind that in Jainism, on the one
hand, and in Christianity, Judaism, and Mohammedanism on
the other, morality stands on quite different bases. For the
three latter the moral laws are divine commands. For Jainism
they are merely means which the wise man will take if he
really wishes to attain his goal. There is no Categorical Im
perative for the Jaina. It lies entirely with him whether he
will make use of these means or not. He has a perfect right,
if he so wishes, to assimilate Karma and be born a potato.1
All of these means are recommended for the layman and lay-
woman, but are indispensable for the monks and nuns if they
are to take their profession seriously. The whole of the mo
nastic life is so arranged as to break all worldly ties and make
one feel that here we have no continuing city and that Moksha
is our home. The original rule of the Jaina orders (consider
ably modified to-day) permitted them to stay but a week in a
village and a month in a town — except during the rainy sea
son, when, indeed, they were, and are, charged to remain for
the entire four months in one place. The purpose of this is not
the protection of the monks or nuns from the downpour and the
heat; it is for the protection of the plant and insect life which
so abounds at that period and which might be injured by the
inadvertent steps of the wandering brothers and sisters. Hence
they stay in the upasaro (rest-house) where they find them
selves at the beginning of the rainy season until the rains are
over. These rest-houses are built for their benefit by laymen
of piety who hope thereby to acquire merit, and their sim
plicity and lack of adornment is in marked contrast with the
elaborate and luxurious construction and decoration of the
Buddhist monasteries in Burma and Ceylon. They consist
sometimes of large and barren halls in which are many beds,
sometimes of four lines of cells surrounding a court.
1 It will be seen that moral vows and methods for moral advancement
form the heart of Jainism. Yet the strictness of these rules is toned down
considerably for the layman who is not specially ambitious for his soul's
progress. Mrs. Stevenson quotes an odd passage from one of the new Jaina
religious schoolbooks. The subject under discussion is the eighteen kinds
of sin, and at the end these words are added : " Children, you must not com
mit such sins aimlessly, where no end can be gained for yourselves and the
interests of your relations are not concerned; moreover, sins should be kept
267

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
When the monk enters the order (and what I say of the
monk in this paragraph holds equally of the nun) a lock of his
hair is pulled out by the roots (hair by hair) and the rest of his
head shaved ; and thereafter at least once every year every hair
of his head must be pulled out. He must own no property save
a very few garments, a rod, five wooden pots, a straining-
cloth, a veil, and a brush. These last three things are of special
importance; for he must strain all the water that he drinks lest
it should contain insects whose lives would thus be sacrificed;
he must place the veil over his mouth whenever the atmosphere
is such that there is danger of his inhaling insects, and also on
official occasions as when preaching; x and with the brush he
must sweep the floor before sitting down, and sometimes the
ground in front of him as he walks, lest he should sit or tread
upon some immortal soul. His food and water he must beg and
(like the Hindu sannyasi) he is allowed but one meal a day.
This, of course, must be entirely vegetarian and very limited
in its choice of vegetables. For the stricter monks it consists
chiefly of rice and other cereals, dhal or pulse, ghi, milk, mo
lasses, fruits, and occasional sweets. All the water that he
drinks must be boiled — by some one else. This is interesting,
as it reflects the rather egoistic morality which to some extent
characterizes most non-Christian (and also many so-called
Christian) ethical codes. The water must be boiled (and must
be drunk within four hours after the boiling) so that the monk
may not be guilty of destroying life by drinking it. But he
must not boil it himself, for by so doing he would certainly
destroy life; at least so thinks the Jaina, and considering the
drinking-water one gets in India he is probably correct. Hence
some one else must assume the guilt of murder in order to pre
serve his innocence. Each day he must confess his sins morn
ing and night to his guru or superior. A certain part of his time
must be given to study of the sacred books and to contem
plation and sometimes to the instruction of those laymen who
within bounds." Advice of this sort, of course, is not for the monk or for
the layman who seriously desires moral advancement.
1 It is not merely for the protection of insects in the water and air that
the monk takes these precautions, but also for the protection of the air and
water themselves, which, it will be remembered, are jiva, and which the
monk vows not to kill. 268

THE JAINAS
care to learn.1 In passing through an Indian village one some
times comes upon a throng of natives, the men on one side, the
women on the other, and between them, on an improvised
platform, two wandering Jaina monks, facing the men and
with their backs turned to the ladies, and with veils over their
mouths, preaching on the duty of ahimsa or on some other
moral doctrine, and evidently making considerable impres
sion on their auditors.
The vows and rules of conduct of the layman must of course
be observed by the monk with much greater rigor. Absolute
celibacy and absolute renunciation of the world and all its
pleasures are of course demanded. In addition to this he must
practice certain austerities (which in proper Jaina fashion are
divided into six external and six internal ones), such as longer
or shorter fasts, endurance of excessive heat or cold, the prac
tice of indifference, etc. " In a village or in a forest, examining
the ground and recognizing it as free from living beings, the
monk should spread the straw. Without food he should lie
down and bear the pains which attack him. He should not
for too long a time give way to worldly feelings which over
come him. When crawling animals feed on his flesh and blood,
he should neither kill them nor rub the wound. Though these
animals destroy the body, he should not stir from his posi
tion." 2 And the ideal monk will at the end depart this life
by deliberate starvation. This, indeed, is no longer common;
but it does occasionally happen, and the heads of the great
orders often complete their present incarnations in that laud
able manner. It is recommended as one of the greatest helps
in the pathway of deliverance.
No summary of Jaina ethics would be complete without at
least a reference to their catalogue of sins. The list is typically
Jaina, and is elaborately subdivided. It consists of just eight
een principal sins, which are the following: (i) the taking of
life, (2) untruthfulness (though little white lies are permis
sible), (3) dishonesty (including treason and law-breaking), (4)
unchastity, (5) covetousness, (6) anger, (7) conceit, (8) intrigue
or cheating, (9) greed, (10) over-fondness for anything or any
1 Jaina monks are said, however, to be a rather ignorant and indolent
lot, with little scholarly interest. a Akaranka Sutra, I, 7, 8.
269

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
one (even too great affection for a relative or guru, since this
hinders detachment from the world), (n) hatred or envy, (12)
quarrelsomeness, (13) slander, (14) telling malicious stories,
(15) fault-finding, (16) lack of self-control, (17) hypocrisy or
suggestio falsi, (18) false faith, such as apostasy from Jainism
or the partial adoption of some other religion.
Mrs. Stevenson, from whom I have taken this list, makes
many excellent comments on the Jaina view of sin, two of
which are of special importance. She points out, namely, the
psychological insight shown in the Jaina treatment of these
various sins, and also the actual application of the list. "The
value of Jaina philosophy," she writes, "lies not only in the
fact that it, unlike Hinduism, has correlated ethical teaching
with its metaphysical system, but also in the amazing knowl
edge of human nature which its ethics display." In their treat
ment of the sixth, seventh, eighth, and ninth sins, for instance
(anger, conceit, intrigue, greed), they make four degrees of
indulgence, each involving more guilt than the preceding, and
differing only in the length of time the indulgence has lasted.
Thus, "they have seized on an essential truth, that the length
of time a sin is indulged in affects the nature of the sin; for sins
grow worse through long keeping." 1
In the training of the moral life the Jainas make use not
only of rules and vows but of confession and penance. At more
or less regular intervals every good Jaina layman confesses his
sins to some sadhu or monk, making use of the twelve vows and
the list of eighteen sins to refresh his memory, and performs
the penance assigned him. The monks make daily confession.
Thus, as Mrs. Stevenson points out, " to judge this list fairly
one must remember that it is not an unused piece of lumber
stored away in the Jaina statute book, but that the most care
less of Jainas test their consciences by it at least once every
year, and that the more devout use it every four months, and
some every fortnight. It cannot be denied that such lists, to
gether with kindred enactments, have educated the Jaina con
science to some knowledge of what sin is." 2
But the Jaina religion in its present popular form includes
not only moral and ascetic rules, but genuine worship or
1 The Heart of Jainism, p. 122. ' Op. cit., p. 132.
270

THE JAINAS
puja as well. The puja, of course, is to the Tirthankaras, and
is probably an addition introduced by the laymen into the
original moral philosophy of Mahavira. For the laymen
felt the need of some superhuman assistance and so made
the Tirthankaras into gods. And so all over India they are
worshiped as such, in temples and by means of images which
do not differ in principle from those of Hinduism — the puja
bearing a close resemblance to the Hindu type. Both the in
telligent and the ignorant Jainas unite in it; but with very
different points of view. For the latter the Tirthankaras are
gods, who hear prayer, are pleased by offerings and praises,
and interfere to help their worshipers in response. The intel
ligent Jaina, on the other hand, considers the Tirthankaras
merely as ideals and as being quite beyond the reach of all
prayers and praises. As one Jaina put it in conversation with
me, "the Tirthankaras are careless of us, for they are literally
free from care." The intelligent Jainas are very logical here,
and recognize that prayer in the sense of petition to such be
ings is quite useless. But these good atheists do not therefore
stop praying. They frankly admit that prayer and praise are
of value only for their psychical, subjective effects upon us;
but these effects are real and desirable so far as they go. Some
of these men bitterly deplore the unintelligent worship of the
Tirthankaras, as being thoroughly inconsistent with the fun
damental principles of Jainism. "Our gods [the Tirthankaras]
are only human souls," writes a correspondent of the "Jaina
Gazette," — "souls who have attained a blissful condition.
Ex-hypothesi/ these gods cannot and should not and will not
take any part whatsoever in our daily lives. Yet every morn
ing they are tortured to come down and sit in the large silver
flat dishes; and thousands of Jaina throats quiver in incanta
tions and eyes half close in delicious expectation, praying the
Tirthankaras byname and generally to 'give us this day our
daily bread,' to give us children, beautiful wives, faithful hus
bands, golden ornaments, victory in a false lawsuit, the pleas
ure even of seeing our neighbor robbed or ruined, and many
more matters of higher or lower order. We claim peace and
indifference for our gods. Why, then, this daily heresy and
torture like the Chairman of a Municipality receiving petitions
271

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
from traders, burgesses, schools, and scavengers? Can we not
leave our gods in their well-earned peace?" J
The writer of this article prudently refrained from signing
his name, and I am inclined to think the article must have been
considered rather heretical or at least ill-advised by the more
conservative Jainas. For many of the more intelligent believe
that with their ignorant theistic brothers the effects of real
prayer to the Tirthankaras is on the whole rather beneficial.
Hence the altruistic and intelligent atheist encourages his
deluded brother to continue to pray to the Tirthankaras and
to praise them, and in fact goes so far as to write prayers
and praises for his use. He himself, meanwhile, uses prayer
and praise only in the sense of meditation and because he
finds them psychologically useful in their reflex effects upon
himself. In fact the more advanced Jaina sadhus do not pray
at all, but simply meditate.
There are said to be forty thousand Jaina temples in India,
and many of them are among the choicest gems of architec
ture that India has to show. Often they are decorated with a
profusion of carving and sculpture which has made them for
many centuries the marvel of the traveler. The court surround
ing the temple proper is usually itself surrounded by many
niches containing statues of Tirthankaras, and in the inner
shrine are one or more similar statues, perhaps larger than
those without, and adorned sometimes with great jewels, but
in other respects the same. For all the Tirthankaras look alike.8
Not even a Jaina can tell which is which, except by the con
ventional symbols attached to them by the artists for pur
poses of identification. They all wear a narrow loin-cloth and
sit cross-legged, with each foot resting on the opposite knee, the
soles turned upward, hands folded in lap, eyes gazing outward
into space, and with expression as vacant as the artist can
make it.3 This exact similarity and lack of individuality among
1 Jaina Gazette, March, 1914, pp. 115-16.
* Cf. the picture on the jacket of this book, which is drawn, with slight
modifications, from a photograph of a group of the twenty-four Tirthan-
kara images, taken by the author in the great Jaina Temple at Benares.
' I have described here the Svetambara images. The Digambara Tir
thankaras differ slightly, in that they are quite naked, their eyes are cast
down, and they wear no jewelry in their foreheads.
272

JAINA TEMPLE AT DELWARA, MOUNT ABU

THE JAINAS
the Tirthankaras is not for nothing, but symbolizes very well
the loss of individual peculiarities and the complete indiffer
ence which pure consciousness and Moksha naturally imply.
They raise also the unhappy query in the mind of the Western
beholder: If I were to become pure soul, should I look like that?
In addition to the images of the Tirthankaras one not in
frequently comes upon other figures in out-of-the-way parts
of Jaina temples. In the Delwara temples on Mount Abu a
female figure is many times repeated which a Jaina whom I
found there told me represented a goddess named Chakesweri.1
The Jainas, he said, have twenty-four gods and one goddess,
and for his own part he certainly believed in them all and wor
shiped them. Other female figures besides Chakesweri there
are also in these temples, sporting with jocund males, none of
whom appear to be very strenuous candidates for Moksha.
More significant is the presence of certain Hindu gods in
Jaina temples. In the Jaina temple at Bombay I found an
image of Ganesh; another image of Ganesh in the great Jaina
temple by the bank of the Ganges at Benares; and in one of
the remote Achalgar temples on Mount Abu an image of Ga
nesh, an image of Hanuman, and a lingam. Mrs. Stevenson
reports other Hindu gods in other Jaina temples.2 Many of
the Jainas seem ignorant of these facts and flatly deny them.
Others when questioned give various explanations, the com
monest being that these Hindu gods are servants to the Tir
thankaras, or are put in the temples in order to do homage to
the Tirthankaras, or to bestow their protection, etc. ; for most
of the less intelligent Jainas believe in the Hindu gods, though
they do not worship them. It is questionable how reliable the
explanations given really are; and it seems more likely that
the presence of these images is a token of a tendency in popular
Jainism to slip back into Hinduism, as so many of its reforming
predecessors have done. I think it improbable, however, that
this tendency will have any great effect; for the leading Jainas
1 He probably referred to one of the "Chasanadevis"or female powers
who occupy in Jainism a place corresponding to that of the shaktis in Hin
duism. They are, that is, the powers of the Tirthankaras. The Tirthanka
ras are supposed to have powers but never to use them.
' Ganesh is also present and worshiped at Jaina weddings.
273

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
are very proud of the independence of their religion and will
probably be successful in heading off any movement of relapse.
One surprising fact about the worship of the Jainas is that
they have but very few priests of their own, and among the
Svetambaras the official puja in the temples is usually offered
by Hindus (Brahmins), who know but very little of the Jaina
religious and moral teachings, do not believe in the gods they
are worshiping, and perform the rites purely as a professional
duty. For their domestic ceremonies Jainas of all sect9 call
in Brahmin priests, — i.e., Hindus. The Digambaras have
priests of their own for their temple service. These priests are
never monks, but laymen who adopt the temple service as their
means of livelihood. Of course they neither preach nor teach;
they simply perform the rites in the proper way. And this is
not a simple thing. The performance takes a long time and
must be done with precision. It begins with washing the Tir-
thankara image, coloring it in the proper spots, waving in
cense before it with the repetition of verses, and the making
of offerings. In some respects this latter is the most significant
part of the rite, and I was fortunate in seeing it particularly
well done in the Syadvad Mahavidyalaya at Benares. This is a
Digambara rest-house, school, and temple — a massive build
ing near the Asi Ghat on the banks of the Ganges. As one enters
the building from the river side he comes first upon a shrine
with two or three small Tirthankara images. To his right is a
long room or hall with many beds — the rest-house for wan
dering monks. The temple proper is on the second floor — a
large and handsome room with a shrine containing two or
three Tirthankara images at the end. As we entered four
priests were doing puja before the shrine and had reached that
part of the ritual in which offerings are made. In front of the
shrine was a table on which a large brass platter was lying.
The four priests were standing by the table, two on each side,
with a serving-table near them on which were eight small
trays each containing a different kind of offering. The priests
would take up first a little white rice from one of these trays
and sprinkle it upon the large platter before the shrine, then
some saffron rice from another, then ghi from a third and pour
it upon the platter, while one of them kept up an unbroken
. 274

THE JAINAS
chant of Sanskrit verses to which the three others occasionally
responded — with no attempt, however, to sing on the same
key as their leader.
How hard it is to see truly and report justly on the rite of an
unfamiliar religion! To me this whole performance at first
seemed almost childish — and doubtless my description makes
it sound so to the reader. Yet my Jaina acquaintance who had
brought me there, — a barrister who holds the degrees of
M.A. and LL.B., and a most intelligent, cultivated, and mod
ern kind of man, — standing by my side, was noticeably
affected by the worship, so much so that after a few moments
he stepped up to the table and joined the priests in making
offerings and intoning Sanskrit.1
For, as another of my Jaina acquaintances explained to me
later, the rite has a meaning. The eight kinds of offerings sym
bolize the eight qualities which the Jaina desires. Thus, white
rice represents knowledge; saffron rice (which the Digambaras
use in place of flowers, since flowers have souls) symbolizes
beauty; another of the offerings stands for immortality, etc.
Moreover, in all this puja (so I was assured by more than one)
there was no thought of giving gifts to the Tirthankara, as
though he had need of anything or would be gratified by them;
the purpose of the Jaina is to enforce upon himself and upon
those who partake in and witness the puja, the desirability of
the various qualities symbolized, and the glory of the ideal
represented by the Tirthankaras. The whole aim for the intel
ligent Jaina is subjective.
But, however the intelligent Jaina may view the matter,
there can be no doubt that for the rank and file puja is puja,
and the Tirthankaras are worshiped in the same sense in which
Shiva and Vishnu are worshiped in the Hindu temple next
door. And it is the rank and file who keep up the puja in the
1 Failure to understand another's symbols may take place even between
close friends of the same nationality and of different branches of the same
religion. John Bright, the Quaker, seems to have found it difficult to under
stand the religious emotions of his friend William E. Gladstone, the High
Churchman. Thus in his journal, under the date of September, 1873, is the
following entry: "Hawarden. To Church. Service high. Three parsons.
Mr. Gladstone most earnest in the singing, etc. To me much of the service
seemed only fitted for very ignorant people." (Quoted in Trevelyan's Life
of John Bright [London, Constable, 1913], p. 4'5-)
275

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
forty thousand Jaina temples. In most of these there are two
services every day — so I was informed, — puja and scripture
reading or chanting in the morning, and illumination with
scripture reading or chanting in the evening. Of course Jainas
(like Christians) stay at home from church occasionally; and
the men seem to stay at home rather often. "Our temples,"
says the "Jaina Gazette," "are sadly, we almost said shame
fully, neglected." Yet in the large centers one will find a fair
attendance of women at the morning temple service and a few
men — kneeling before the shrine, waving incense sticks, scat
tering grains of rice in the center of the room, and chanting
some ancient hymn, with a good deal of fervor.
One of the most sacred of these hymns (the "Shanti Path")
I shall in part copy down here, in the English translation made
by the gentleman whom I referred to above as taking so en
thusiastic a part in the puja just described. It is in honor
especially of Shanti Jinendra, the sixteenth Tirthankara, and
is offered every day in every Jaina temple. It will serve as a
good example of Jaina worship: —
"I bow to the highest Jaina,
Whose eyes resemble the lotus,
Whose body a thousand and eight
Distinctions do adorn.
I bow to Shanti Jinendra,
Whose face has the moon's effulgence,
Purity, goodness, character,
And law in whom find shelter.

"To Lord Jinendra, Shri Shanta,
The worshiped of all the world,
The giver of peace and joy,
I bow down my humble head.
Peace eternal may he award
To all the beings on earth.
May I obtain by his favor
The highest gift of Nirvana.
"Worshiped by Indras and the gods,
Be-jeweled with ear-rings, necklace and crown,
May the Tirthankaras bestow
Peace eternal all round.
Born of noble families
They gave light unto the world,
Their lotus-feet are adorned
By legions of gods celestial.
276

THE JAINAS
"On worshipers and believers
i Bestow peace, O Glorious Jinendra!
Blessed be all subjects
And the ruler just and strong.
May rains be good and timely
And all diseases cease!
"May famine, theft, and pestilence
Not vex the people for a second,
May Chakra divine of Jinendra
Give joy to the world around!
Lords Jinas commencing from Rishabha,1
Destroyers of deadly Karmas,
Radiators of Perfect Knowledge,
To earth may Happiness bring!" *
Not a very inspiring hymn from our point of view, it must
be admitted, even granting that it may have lost something
in being done into English. Yet we non- Jainas are hardly in a
position to judge it fairly, nor to form any just estimate of
what it may mean to a devoted follower of Lord Shanti Jinen
dra. Possibly a Jaina would be equally at a loss to understand
the appeal of the great Christian hymn: —
" Crown Him with many crowns,
The Lamb upon His throne."
In addition to the temples, each Jaina house is supposed to
have a domestic shrine of its own, as the Hindus and Buddhists
have, and here puja is regularly offered to the Tirthankaras.
The Jaina layman is supposed to perform six daily duties,
namely: (i) Puja. This is best done at a temple, but some
carry hymn-books in which are pictures of the Tirthankaras,
and these pictures may, for purposes of puja, be substituted
for the temple images. The full puja for a layman requires
forty-eight minutes, but most are satisfied with waving incense
or a lamp before the image and offering rice. (2) Confession
to one's guru. (3) Reading from the scriptures or repeating
passages from them which have been learned by heart. (4)
The "practice of vows" — some light asceticism as described
above under the twelve rules of conduct. (5) Charity (espe
cially to monks). (6) Meditation. Besides this daily exercise
of the religion there are days of special observance — e.g., the
1 The first Jina or Tirthankara.
J Published in the Jaina Gazette for November, 1913.
277

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
eighth and fifteenth day of each month, the full moon, and
especially the annual festival (an alternating feast and fast)
of Pajjusana at the end of the year, which lasts for eight days,
the fifth of which is celebrated as the birthday of Mahavira.
"The closing day of the Jaina year and of Pajjusana is the
most solemn fast of all. Every Jaina fasts throughout the day
from food and water, and the apasara [rest-houses of the monks]
are crowded with men and women making their confessions.
No outsider can visit these gatherings without being deeply
impressed with the determination of all present to carry no
grudge and no quarrel over into the next year. At the close
of the meeting every one present asks forgiveness from his
neighbors for any offense he may even unwittingly have given,
and they all write letters to distant friends asking their for
giveness also." x
The Jaina religion, it will be seen, makes very considerable
demands even upon its laymen, and its general influence upon
them tends, unquestionably, to a very real kindness and good
will and a certain sort of idealism. Not many of its laymen, how
ever, carry out its rules with any great. care; and the rank and
file, even in obeying its commands, do so very unintelligently.
So at least I was told by one of the Jaina leaders. I have said
above that the scriptures are read or chanted in the temples
and that it is the duty of the layman to read or chant them
every day. But I must now add that very few laymen possess
any of the scriptures of their own to read; and when they do
read or hear them they are (to most of. them) entirely unintel
ligible; for the Jaina scriptures are written in Sanskrit and
Prakrit, both of which are unknown tongues to the great major
ity of the Jaina community.2 Some of the most important of
1 Mrs. Stevenson, The Heart of Jainism, pp. 259-60.
* The hymn copied out above, for instance (the "Shanti Path"), though
recited every day in every Jaina temple, is quite meaningless to almost all
those who recite it. In fact it was for this reason that the English transla
tion was made and printed in the Jaina Gazette; the translator prefacing it
with the remark: "The Text is in Sanskrit and the real and true import of
the solemn verses is not generally understood. An English translation is
therefore given for the information of our young men." I should add, how
ever, that according to Mrs. Stevenson, who is intimately acquainted with
the Jainas of Kathiawar, " most Jaina laymen are familiar with " a few of the
more important scriptures. 278

THE JAINAS
their surras have indeed been translated into English by Pro
fessor Jacobi in the "Sacred Books of the East," but of course
this is entirely unknown to the rank and file of the Jainas.
Very recently some of their sacred writings have been
translated by native scholars into the vernacular and also into
English, but not many of the lower classes make use of these
translations. The adult Jaina once in a long while may hear
a sermon from a traveling monk, or get a little advice from
a professional guru or teacher, but beyond that his religious
instruction is nil.
Up to a few years ago there was no attempt at systematic
religious education for the Jaina children, and in fact for the
great mass of the Jaina community there is but little to-day.
Each family is supposed to have its guru who gives occasional
instruction as to moral and religious duties, but this instruc
tion does not go very deep nor is it systematic. Recently a few
local schools have been started with a few very antiquated
textbooks; but there is still nothing corresponding to our Sun
day School or to our weekly sermon — nothing, in short, to
reach the great mass of the Jaina community, whether young
or old. The religious education of the Jaina boy and girl con
sists (i) in what he gets from his guru and picks up inciden
tally at home and in the temple when taken to worship, and
(2) in certain prayers which he has to commit to memory and
say over morning and night. These are intended to purge him
from the sins of the preceding night and day, and if under
stood and appreciated they would (so my Jaina informant as
sured me) prove helpful in the moral life. But they are in
Prakrit and are learned and recited in Prakrit and often with
no inkling as to their meaning. The father does not tell his
son their meaning because he does not know it himself. But
both father and son repeat the meaningless syllables regularly,
twice every day.
I am glad to be able to say that no one recognizes these sad
failings more openly, and no one deplores them more deeply
or cries out on them more insistently, than some of the Jaina
leaders themselves. My account of the Jainas' use of meaning
less prayers and their ignorance of their own scriptures and
religion was taken almost word for word from a Jaina acquaint-
279

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
ance. And the following quotations from the "Jaina Gazette"
will give further illustration of the frankness of the leaders on
this matter and their earnest desire to bring about reform: —
" If Jainism has yet to live it must come up to date. Old dog
mas alone won't do. The garbled and unauthenticated ac
counts of old Jaina glory are not much. Keen-witted History
and scrupulous Logic have to certify to our fitness before we
can get admission to the halls where truth is sifted and weighed
and the claims of different creeds adjudged. Jainism has got
the true gold in it; but it lies upon us to prove that it is so. . . .
General Booth's Salvation Army is coming to India to take
the criminal tribes in hand to reform them. Is it not fair to
ask the Jainas: What have you done to make life better and
happier for your fellow human beings?" x
"Some of the Jainas may be good, perhaps despite their
birth in a Jaina family, but Jainas on the whole have success
fully made ceaseless efforts to divest themselves of all that was
best in Jainism. Knowledge of Jainism is almost extinct. Very
few original texts are extant; they are unknown to Jaina masses,
even to their learned leaders, and very rarely read even in pri
vate, what to say of public meetings. The spiritual or rather
anti-spiritual food of the masses is derived partly from crude,
half-Jaina, half-non-Jaina truths or half-truths, and partly
from superstitions upon which their lives are based in our
towns and villages." 2
Nor is this all. The Jaina leaders find cause for discourage
ment and sadness, not only in the spiritual condition of their
fellow-religionists, but also because of what the "Jaina Ga
zette" calls "the steady swindling down" of their numbers.
That the Jaina religion is destined to decline steadily through
out our present era, and at last become (temporarily) extinct,
is, strangely enough, one of the beliefs of this rather strange
people. And now that facts seem to be verifying their faith
they naturally look forward with considerable anxiety to the
future. The "Jaina Gazette" reports that between 1891 and
1901 the number of Jainas fell from about 1,500,000 to i,334-
000, and that according to the census of 191 1 it had fallen by
that year to 1,248,000. This means a decrease for the last
1 January, 1911, p. 3. * May-September, 1911, p. 74-
280

THE JAINAS
decade of 62 per cent. In the same decade the Hindus increased
5 per cent, the Moslems 6.7 per cent, and the Christians 33
per cent. What is the cause of this loss in numbers? The Jaina
death-rate is shown to be lower than that of Hindus, Mos
lems, or Christians. Nor, if we can trust the writer in the
"Gazette," who seems to be well informed on his subject,
can conversions away from Jainism account for this steady fall
in numbers. It does not occur to him that a religion which
values celibate life so much above the married, which urges
men and women to turn monks and nuns and regards the pro
duction of lawful children rather askance, has no right to be
grieved but should rather rejoice at a steady decrease in num
bers. But indeed there is certainly some other cause than this
at work. This cause, in part, is the caste system. The caste
system works against the Jainas in two ways. Jainas and
Vaisya Hindus intermarry. But as a rule the Vaisya man,
though he takes a Jaina wife, is not willing to give his daughter
to a Jaina husband. The result is that many Jaina women be
come Hindus and their children are born as Hindus, while
many Jaina men are left with no wives at all. And the division
of the Jainas into small castes who will not intermarry often
works the same evil. But the evil condition is greatly increased
by the maintenance of the traditional feeling against the re
marriage of child-widows,1 which makes 153,000 Jaina women
unmarriageable, and by the custom of child-marriage and
other evil conditions which induce premature death, and thus
considerably reduce the female population. As a result about
twenty-eight per cent of the Jaina men under forty-five have
to remain unmarried because there are not any Jaina women
for them to marry.
This clinging to ancient evil customs, and especially this
division of their small community into castes and sects, are
1 In one little Jaina caste which the writer in the Gazette has investi
gated, there are 408 males and 381 females: 117 of these 381 are widows.
"This means that 117 plus 27, that is, 144 males, cannot have wives under
any conceivable circumstances. . . . On the day when these figures were
taken there were 177 boys who were unmarried, while there were 73 girls
only who could be distributed among them. That means that 104 boys must
go without wives! And 40 grown-up men must have been old bachelors —
either ascetics — or — or what?" (A. B. Latthe, "The Decadence of
Jainas," Jaina Gazette, April and June, 1912, pp. 39-43.)
28l

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
among the things most deplored by the intelligent laymen,
The Digambaras and Svetambaras will not intermarry, and
only a few of them are sufficiently advanced to be willing to
eat together. Only recently they were beginning a law suit
which promised rich pickings for the lawyers, because the
Svetambaras refused to allow those of the Digambara persua
sion to worship at one of the shrines sacred to all Jainas. And
not only are there three great sects in this little community of
a million and a quarter; these sects are divided (as I said on a
previous page) into nearly ninety sub-sects,1 each of which
regards all the rest as more or less heretical.
And what is perhaps worst of all, because it goes deepest,
is the fact that in nearly all these sects the emphasis is put on
the outer form, and the development of the spiritual life of the
community is left to take care of itself. The Jainas are a rich
community and many of their rich men are generous and
loyal. But until recently their generosity has usually taken
the form of buying a new jewel to be put in the forehead of a
Tirthankara image,2 while expenditures for charity and edu
cation have scarcely been thought of. A sad state of things,
indeed, yet one hardly peculiar to Jainism. Only last year in
Christian Spain, in the city of Granada, the priests collected
some forty-two thousand dollars from the pious laity to buy
a new crown for the Madonna; although the city is too poor
to afford pure water, has no poorhouse, and but few schools,
and although the Madonna already had one very expensive
crown which might perhaps have been made to "do" for a
few years longer.
Fortunately there is a good deal of feeling against this sort
of waste in both Spain and India. But in Spain the feeling is
confined chiefly to those out of the Church; while among the
1 The Jaina Gazette for October, 1914, gives a list of eighty-seven castes
into which the 450,000 Digambaras are divided.
! A wealthy Svetambara gentleman is at present building a new temple
in which he is expending twenty-four lakhs of rupees ($8,000,000). Of
another Svetambara the Gazette for June, 1915, records that " in 1905 he
spent Rs. 25,000 in entertaining the persons collected at a religious ser
vice held by him. In 1907, at a cost of Rs. 12,000, he built a garden house
for the public, where a religious fair annually takes place. In making pil
grimage in company he spent Rs. 37,000. He set apart a sum of Rs. 20,000
toward grounding scholarships to students prosecuting their College study.
282

THE JAINAS
Jainas it is the leaders who cry out most earnestly against it.
One of them writes thus : —
"One result of narrow sectarianism is to be found in the
pious endowments, lavish expenditures over the erection of
temples and in processions, and enormous waste of money in
marriages. Not a moment's thought is bestowed on the educa
tion of the Jaina community; not an effort is made to relieve
the sorrows of the unfortunate Purdanashin widows [those
kept in confinement], who within the four walls of their houses
endure untold miseries and to whom an unmerciful fate has
allotted nothing but ' fierce midnights and famishing morrows ' ;
and no provision or scheme is devised for the orphans, who for
sheer want of care and protection drift into a life of sin and
crime. . . . What an amount of real solid charitable work is
here for him who is ready to do the work! But such silent,
beneficent work brings forward no glittering reward, no daz
zling compensation, and hence it is never cared for, it is never
seriously taken up. The Jaina community has, hopelessly and
in outer-seeing beyond redemption, fallen into lethargy and
inactivity. Brethren! Time has come when we should no
longer listlessly stand with folded arms resigned to fate and
destiny, but when we must gird up loins courageously for a
series of steadfast and laborious marches. Time has come when
we should either prepare ourselves for the hard, severe, in
creasing struggle for existence as a community, as a force and
power in India, or suffer ourselves to drop out forever from
the list of living forces and active communities of this great
Peninsula." l
These are stirring words; and a community which can pro
duce young men so alive to the evils of the times as are the
writers whom I have quoted (and there are many others like
them) is far from moribund. It must be remembered also that
the articles in question were written not for Europeans; 2 and
1 Devendra Prasad in the Jaina Gazette for October-December, 191 1,
pp. 31-32.
1 I have had many a talk with the writer of the article just quoted from and
have questioned him closely as to the possible evil conditions or tendencies
within the Jaina community. But all in vain. Scarcely a single undesir
able feature would he admit; his fellow-religionists were apparently perfect.
So complete was his loyalty to them while talking to a stranger that I came
283

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
for me to quote from them at all is, I confess, almost unfair. It
is like disclosing the secrets of a friend's family which one has by
chance learned. I am sure, however, that the reader will agree
with me in feeling that the very frankness of these writers is
itself a token of the moral strength that still remains in this
ancient community. And the words have the men behind
them. I have had the good fortune to know personally a num
ber of these young reformers, and there can be no question of
their earnestness and of their devotion to the rehabilitation
of their religion and of their community. In fact they have
succeeded in getting the reform movement well under way;
and I must say a word or two concerning it before I close this
chapter. One of the organizations through which the reformers have
done their work is the "Bharat Jaina Mahamandal," which
is sometimes translated the "All India Jaina Association,"
sometimes the "Jaina Young Men's Association of India."
It was founded in 1895 and its aim is to bring the different
sects into union or at least cooperation, to arouse the whole
community to the importance of education, and to bring about
certain social reforms such as the ultimate abolition of caste
restrictions and the alleviation of the sad lot of the child-
widows. The "Jaina Gazette," founded in 1905, is its official
organ. A somewhat similar organization is the "Mahavira
Brotherhood,"1 founded in 1913, with headquarters in both
to doubt his information. Yet when he comes to address the Jainas them
selves he writes what I have quoted above, and much more of the same
strenuous sort. One is uncertain whether to admire most this frank and
unsparing criticism toward friends, or the equally downright loyalty of
reticence when speaking to strangers.
1 Its "Minimum of Conduct" for its members is interesting — and in
many ways admirable: —
" (1) Hurt nothing as far as possible; eschew all flesh food.
" (2) Help and serve all (Jainas and non- Jainas) as much as possible.
Expect no return.
" (3) Suppress the passions of
Anger — practice Forgiveness.
Pride — practice Humility.
Deceit — practice Love and Faith.
Greed — practice Sacrifice.
" (4) Cultivate Peace of Mind."
The high aims of the Brotherhood are more promising than its member
ship, which as yet numbers but eight. 284

THE JAINAS
England and India. It aims "to be a nucleus of Universal
Brotherhood of all living beings," as well as "to be a center of
Jainism in the West." Partly through the efforts of these
societies and their members, partly through other wide-awake
Jainas, the cause of religious and moral education in the Jaina
community has made a fair start. A number of schools have
been founded, — both local establishments and boarding-
schools, — ¦ in some of which (notably in the two great schools
in Benares) English and Sanskrit are taught, while in all of
them the study of the Jaina religion is compulsory.1 A series
of books of religious instruction prepared especially for chil
dren was published in 1907.
Another effort that the reformers are making is an attempt
to publish and translate as much as possible of their sacred
literature. Until quite recently only a small portion of the
Jaina literature was known even to the Jaina public. In 1884
Dr. Jacobi translated some Jaina sutras, but these compose
but a small part of the Jaina literature. Most of it, still pre
served only in palm-leaf manuscript, was hidden away in mon
asteries, especially in South India, and guarded by monks who,
too ignorant to read it themselves, have regarded it as too
sacred for any one else to read. In some cases it was with the
greatest difficulty that they were prevailed upon to allow
copies of these manuscripts to be made, even though the copies
were to be kept within their own monasteries. Another ob
stacle in the way of publication was the prejudice felt through
out the Svetambara sect against allowing women or any of the
laity to read the sacred books. In spite of these obstacles con
siderable progress has been made. A "Jaina Literature So
ciety," with a European and an Indian section, has recently
been founded with a steadily increasing endowment fund, and
ancient manuscripts are being edited and translated. It is the
purpose of the society to publish the text together with an
English translation of all the Jaina Sacred Books.
In January, 1912, the "Jaina Gazette," in summing up the
results of the reform movement, was able to point to the fol
lowing institutions: about fifteen journals (in various lan-
1 I should add that the two Benares schools which J visited seemed to
be admirably conducted. 285

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
guages) ; three presses; eleven libraries (in addition to libraries
attached to temples all over India); seventeen schools; an
orphanage; and a Home for Widows. To this list, moreover,
should be added a hospital,1 now six years old, and two recent
gifts of money, one of two hundred thousand rupees for the
cause of education made in October, 1913, and another of four
hundred thousand rupees made in December of the same year.
A few months ago a Jaina lady made a gift of twenty-five
thousand rupees for female education.
The movement for union is also flourishing. For several
years each of the three chief sects has had an association of its
own, with an annual conference, combining thus its many
sub-sects, and in 191 1 the All India Jaina Association made a
proposal to all three associations that a united committee be
appointed made up of representatives from each. This pro
posal was accepted by all the associations; so a first step was
taken for complete union. Moreover, Svetambaras and Digam
baras have at last been induced to eat together, though they
will not yet intermarry. And in December, 191 3, an All India
Jaina Convention was held at Benares, at which representa
tives of all the sects talked in Hindi and English for four days
on the superiority of the Jaina religion to all others and on the
need for education and union. The convention was opened by
a procession through the city in which (as the enthusiastic
Jaina reporter put it) "the chariot car drawn by a couple of
decorated elephants, proceeding slowly and majestically, the
prancing ponies proud of their glittering jewelry and velvet
trappings, the melodious music, the long line of flags, and the
Guard of Honor formed by the students of the Syadvad, all
combined to lend a glorious splendor to the scene." Each of the
four daily (and nightly) sessions had its own president, Mrs.
Besant and Professor Jacobi being among the number. Some
of the speeches were scholarly expositions of doctrine, some
were appeals for united action, and not a few were of the sort
made by an enthusiastic convert from Hinduism who said (so
at least I was told, for it was in Hindi and quite beyond me)
that just as there should be but one language in the world and
1 At Cawnpore. During nine months of the year 1913 it treated 18,833
cases. See Jaina Gazette for June-July, 1914, p. 232.
286

THE JAINAS
that the Sanskrit, so there should be but one religion, and that
the Jaina, since it really comprehends all the rest. And as a
fact, so high has enthusiasm reached, a movement is now on
foot to build a temple and rest-house in the United States, and
to send over missionaries to lead the Americans to Moksha.1
At the close of the conference gifts were announced, to the
amount of two hundred and twenty-eight thousand rupees,
for educational and charitable purposes.
The Jaina reformers are still, of course, but a tiny minority
of the community. Their movement has gone but a little way,
and it is by no means sure of any large success. They probably
will succeed in getting their sacred literature published, but
it does not follow that any but themselves will read it. To be
sure, some measure of success is here possible, for twenty-five
per cent of the Jainas can read and write — a larger per
centage of literacy than the adherents of any other religion in
India, except the Parsees, can boast. Yet I am not sanguine of
any very excellent results even should all the Jainas read their
scriptures in their own tongue. For these scriptures were
written hundreds or thousands of years ago, and, if one may
judge from the samples done into English, but few of them
have any great message for our times. They are not to be
compared in value to the Upanishads or to the Koran or the
Dhammapada. Much of the Jaina religion as contained in
the books is quite devoid of inspiration; and much of it con
sists of logic-chopping, elaborate systematizations, and minute
rules for the self-torture of rather useless monks; much of it is
given up to the exposition of a psychology and cosmology that
date from the times of Mahavira and to a naive philosophy
which no one, not even a Jaina, would think of accepting but
for his belief that it has the authority of some mythical Tir
thankara. It is vain to try to draw much living water from
these sources.
On the other hand, when Jainism is taken in a liberal way,
1 Some of the Jainas are very much in earnest with this idea of foreign
missions. They have already six converts in England; and the Jaina
Gazette says: " India, Asia, Europe, and America are all yearning for one
universal, all-binding Brotherhood. We believe Jainism can satisfy this
craving." 287

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
without leaning too heavily on sutras, angas, and agamas;
when a few of its most fundamental ideas are stripped of their
rather grotesque fittings and allowed to develop in an atmos
phere of perfectly free thought, it makes a very respectable
system, and ranks well among the religions of India. Its ex
treme and almost fantastic altruism, its great emphasis upon
self-mastery, upon the dominance of the spirit over the flesh,
its unshaken faith in the soul, and in the necessity of keeping
one's self free from the cheap enticements of an increasingly
materialistic age, together with some of its psychological sug
gestions as to mental and moral training — these things are
of permanent value; and a religion that has persistently stood
for them for at least twenty-five hundred years is worthy of
very considerable respect.
Nor are these things merely matters of theory among the
Jainas. Professor Biihler writes: "In practical life Jainism
makes its laity earnest men who exhibit stronger traits of resig
nation than other Indians and excel in an exceptional willing
ness to sacrifice anything for their religion." x For my own
part I went to India prejudiced against them from having
trusted Hopkins's 2 characterization too implicitly. I met a
number of Jainas and found them exceptionally intelligent
men, broad-minded, and earnestly devoted to the welfare of
their fellows, as well as remarkably hospitable and generous.
These gentlemen testify that they are happier and better men
because of their religion; happier men because the great aim of
their religion is perfect peace and because its rules enable one
to approach the goal; better men both because the moral com
mands of Jainism if conscientiously followed guard one against
any very serious sinning and demand real altruism toward all
sentient beings, and also because it holds up as ideals certain
Blessed Beings who are conceived of as having once been men
like ourselves and as having actually achieved through moral
means the peace which all are taught to love.
The high valuation that the Jainas set upon this inner peace
1 The Indian Sect of the Jainas (London, Frowde, 1903), p. 18.
* See his Religions of India (Boston, Ginn & Co. 1898), chap. xn. He
characterizes Jainism as " a religion in which the chief points insisted on
are that one should deny God, worship man, and nourish vermin" (p. 297).
288

THE JAINAS
which the world cannot give nor take away, together with the
kind of ideal which they find and love in the life of their Lord
Mahavira is made very plain in the descriptions given in their
ancient books of the persecutions of the founder: "When he
approached a village the inhabitants met him on the outside
and attacked him, saying: 'Get away from here.' He was
struck with a stick, the fist, a lance, hit with a fruit, a clod, a
potsherd. Beating him again and again many cried. When he
once sat without moving his body they cut his flesh, tore his
hair under pains, or covered him with dust. Throwing him up
they let him fall or disturbed him in his religious postures;
abandoning the care of his body, the Venerable One humbled
himself and bore pain, free from desire. As a hero at the head
of the battle is surrounded on all sides, so was there Mahavira.
Bearing all hardships, the Venerable One, undisturbed, pro
ceeded on the road to Nirvana." x
In spite of its setting, so strange to our times and our land,
there is something rather noble in this patient figure, some
thing that suggests, at least remotely, Him "who, when he
was reviled, reviled not again, persecuted, he threatened not."
And there is something noble in a religion which can choose for
its ideal this Winner of the Inward Peace, this Despiser of the
Flesh, and looking past the body to the soul can call this
bloody, dust-stained, insulted figure "the Great Hero," "the
Conqueror." "As an elephant at the head of the battle, so was
Mahavira there victorious."
I have dwelt with some detail in this chapter upon the meta
physics, the rites, the customs, and the shortcomings of Jain
ism. But it is only fair to add that to the broad-minded Jainas
the moral element of their religion is the truly important ele
ment, and that they are ready to a surprising extent to see the
letter perish provided the spirit lives. Thus they hail as true
extensions of Jainism every movement toward the prevention
of cruelty to animals, toward vegetarianism and anti-vivisec
tion; every reform of dress that tends to prevent the wanton
or cruel destruction of bird or animal life; and every effort
toward temperance or the prohibition of intoxicants. The Uni
versal Peace Movement is acclaimed as belonging to the very
1 Akaranka Sutra, I, 8, 3.
289

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
spirit of Mahavira, and Andrew Carnegie is regarded as a Jaina
in disguise. "None can doubt," says the "Jaina Gazette" in
reference to these movements, " that Jainism is extending, al
though the Jainas may not know it, and although those in
whose midst the spirit of Jainism is incarnated, and is growing,
may not know that they are Jainas."

CHAPTER XIV
THE MOHAMMEDANS
IT is usually with a sense of relief that one turns from a Jaina
temple, with its twenty-four jewel-bedecked Tirthankara
images, or, still more, from a Hindu shrine with its lingam and
its Ganesh and Hanuman, its incense-laden air and its din of
drum and cymbal, and enters the stillness of a Mohammedan
mosque. No priests here, plying their trade and collecting their
fees, no images, no incense, nothing to stand between the wor
shiper and the invisible God. Here, as is so often the case, the
architecture itself typifies the religion which it enshrines. The\
plan of a mosque is severely simple. No inner and mysterious
room, no idol shrine, no subordinate deities circling the central
god, — just a court with a fountain for washing the hands,
head, and feet, and an empty hall with a few prayer mats on
which the faithful may stand or kneel and pray, a niche in the
wall to give them their bearings, and a small platform from
which one of their number may read to the rest from the sacred
book. \
Moslem theology is as simple as its architecture and its wor-^
ship. No pantheon of gods with their wives, no semi-divine
Tirthankaras, no avataras, no incarnations, no abstruse philos- .
ophy which only the wise and learned can comprehend — just ;
the One God who made all things and does whatever is done, I
omnipotent, omniscient, merciful, and righteous; a heaven fori
the good and a hell for the evil, and a perfectly authoritative J
book, as simple as it is infallible, revealed by God to the Pro-.
phet — this is the sum of Islam.
Beautifully simple surely — that is one's first reaction on'
this creed. And one's second thought is the query, Is this creed
not, perhaps, rather too simple for the very complex world we
live in? I asked a Brahmin once what he thought of Islam, and
he answered, "It is indeed very simple, and that is just the
trouble with it. It is the kind of religion you would expect a
291

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
very simple Arab of the seventh century to teach his fellow-
inhabitants of the desert. It answered their questions, but can
it answer ours?"
The Moslem thinks it can. The answer to every real and to
every possible question, he will tell you, is to be sought in the
will of the one and absolutely supreme God. Says the Koran:
"He is God beside whom there is none who should be served,
the Knower of the unseen and the seen. He is the Merciful, the
Compassionate. He is God beside whom there is no God, the
King, the Holy, the Author of Peace, the Granter of security,
Guardian over all, the Mighty, the Restorer of every loss, the
Possessor of every greatness. High is God above what they set
up with Him. He is God, the Maker of all things, the Creator
of all existence, the Fashioner of all images. His are the most
excellent and beautiful attributes that man can imagine.
Everything that exists in the heavens or on the earth sings His
glory and His perfection, and He is the Mighty, the Wise."
"The East and West are God's. Whithersoever men turn
themselves, the face of God doth meet them there."1
By this monistic doctrine Islam seeks at once to render to
^God the highest glory and to answer all human questions. And
this view of things seems to have satisfied the Prophet and
his primitive Arabs very completely. But when through their
efforts the new religion had been carried to peoples more familiar
with the problems of philosophical thought, unforeseen diffi
culties arose: and greatest of all, the old problem of God's
eternal decree and man's freedom and responsibility. I shall
not here retail the long controversy of the Mutazilites and the
Sunnites, but shall simply quote from the Creed of the great
Sunnite theologian, Al Ashari, which finally settled the matter
and made belief in man's freedom as heretical for Islam as St.
Augustine had made it for Christianity: —
" Nothing exists upon earth, be it good or bad, but that which
God wills : but all things are by God's will. None is able to do
anything before God does it, neither is any one independent of
God. . . . The works of creatures are created and^p^destined
by God. . . . And God maintains the believers in obediefice4o ^
1 In most of my quotations from the Koran I have made use of Sale's
Translation. 292

THE MOHAMMEDANS
Him; but the unbelievers He leads astray, guides them not
aright, vouchsafes them not faith. . . . For should he be gra
cious unto them and help them aright, then would they be pious.
. . . God is able to help the unbelieving aright and to be gra
cious unto them so that they shall become believing, but He
wills that they shall be unbelieving. He has made them imper
vious to all help and sealed their hearts." l
If one were to confine one's self to the books one would sup
pose that this ended the matter and that all the Moslems have
ever since been good fatalists. As a matter of fact they are
nothing of the sort. What view the Moslems of Turkey and
Persia take of this subject I cannot say; but I have talked with
many Indian Moslems, — both learned theologians and ordi
nary tradesmen, — and they all insist stoutly that they be
lieve in free will. They are quite unconscious of the fact that
in holding this they are out of accord with Al Ashari — in fact
the great majority of them have never heard of Al Ashari; and >
it never occurs to them that their belief in human freedom is
inconsistent with the view that God wills whatsoever comes to
pass. The following conversation, for instance, is typical : —
Question. "Does everything happen in accordance with
God's will, so that nothing is done anywhere in the universe
which He does not decree?"
Answer. "Yes, everything that happens and everything
that is done by man or by any one else is in accord with God's
will." Q. "When a man sins, then, it is God that makes him sin?"
A. "Oh, no, not at all. God never wills sin."
Q. " How do you reconcile this with your former statement? "
A. "You see, man's power to sin, as man's power for all his
actions, comes from God. But man's choice of sin is his own
and is against the will of God. God is displeased at sin."
Q. "Then man's will is free?"
A. "Oh, yes."
Q. "Then some things do happen that are not in accordance
with God's will?"
A. "Yes."
1 Quoted by Macdonald, Development of Muslim Theology, Jurispru
dence, and Constitutional Theory (New York, Scribners, 1903), PP- 294~95-
293

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
None of thejndian Moslems with whom I talked could be
called fatalists in the usual sense of the word. And yet in one
particular they were fatalists. Though God has by no means
decreed whatever comes to pass/God has, they insist, decreed
the time and the manner of every man's death!ftTo my ques
tion how, if this were the case, a suicide could ever be held re
sponsible for his act, they had no reply, but clung to their view
in proper Moslem fashion none the less. With the exception of
this particular case, however, as I have said, many Indian
Moslems have drifted away from the orthodox fatalism of their
mediaeval creed. And this fact seemed very interesting to me.
It pointed out a way in which the fetters of creed that have so
long bound the Moslem world may be broken, and are being
broken — namely, not by revolt but by simple ignorance. It
is not in the Mohammedan to rebel against any generally ac
cepted authority. But once an authority becomes generally
accepted, it is likely to be generally forgotten; and the popular
religion may, without knowing it, drift beyond it and adapt
itself spontaneously to changing human needs. And if at the
same time the thinkers of the community have fairly liberal
tendencies and do not seek to force religious thought back into
century-old forms, we may look with some hope for intel
ligent creeds and an elastic and growing religion.
Another illustration of this development of religious ideas in
Islam will be seen if we compare Al Ashari's creed with the
popular Indian Moslem view on the question of the nature of
God. Al Ashari writes : ' ' We believe that God has settled Him
self upon His throne ; that God has a countenance and two hands
and two eyes. . . . We believe that at the Day of Resurrection
God will be visible to the eyes, as the moon is seen upon the
night of the full moon." x
I quoted Al Ashari to my various Moslem acquaintances and,
to a man, they all insisted that they believed in no such thing.
| God, they all said, has no hands "or eyes or body: these expres
sions must be taken figuratively. God is spirit and spirit only.
\ He is the Creator of matter, but does not Himself occupy space
', — though He is in one sense present everywhere. They were
very clear, moreover, that God's omnipresence must not be
1 Macdonald, op. cit., pp. 294-95.
294

THE MOHAMMEDANS
taken in the sense of immanence in matter. God to them, in
proper Moslem style, is transcendent only, and they were quite
aware of the difference between their view and that of their
Hindu neighbors.
This exjEeme^rrar^sjcend^rijglism and deism of Islam makes
it rather inhospitable to mysticism"." The Moslem God is very
distant and as a rule He has nothing to say to individuals. He
had a message for the race as a whole and that He wrote down*
and sent in the form of various books to the various Prophets.
But since He sent the Koran there has been no need for any
further communication between Him and us. In spite of its
aversion to the immanent view of God, however, Islam very
early in its history began producing mystics; and although it
is certainly much less favorable to mysticism than either
Hinduism or Christianity, one comes upon a touch of it here
and there among many of its followers. The Sufis and Der
vishes are, of course, the most prominent representatives of
Mohammedan mysticism, and these flourish best, perhaps, in
the Persian empire. But in India, too, mysticism is to be
found, and in individuals quite outside the influence of the
Dervish. Thus an old moulvie whom I happened upon —
lying quite helpless on his bed from a paralytic stroke — said
to me that God was very near him, and that sometimes God
spoke to him in ways that were unmistakable; — that God
said things to him and these things came true. "We have five
senses," he said, " and through each of these knowledge of some
sort comes into the soul. The soul is like a reservoir with five
pipes leading into it. But the reservoir has also a spring. The
water from all these six sources gets mingled in the reservoir so
that you cannot at first tell from which source any given part
of the water came. But there is a way of finding out. Shut off
the pipes, and you may be sure that the water coming in after
that is from the spring. So of the soul. If you shut off the five
senses and all sources of evil thoughts you may know that what
is left comes into the soul from God." Certainly this is a kind
of mysticism. Yet the contrast between it and Hindu mysti
cism is very striking. God is still regarded as an outside being
who pours knowledge into the soul as through a spring; and
you know it is from God partly because it is not from the
295

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
senses, partly because it "comes true." Most Mohammedan
mysticism is of a decidedly external nature — and the Hindus
would add of a decidedly crude nature as well. And this brings
us to the question of revelation.
There is an odd combination of liberality and narrowness in
the Moslem view of revelation. God, they tell us, has revealed
Himself at various times and to all peoples — "He hath sent
men to every nation to teach them the right way." Hence in
the sacred books of all religions some truth is to be found; and
an especially large share of it in the Scriptures of the Jews and
Christians. It is this aspect of the Moslem doctrine of revela
tion that is emphasized by such writers as Ameer Ali, Moham
med Ali, and Lord Headly in their attempt to exhibit Islam
as the one universal and all-inclusive religion. And it is this
emphasis on only one aspect of the question which makes the
writings of these modern apologists of Islam so misleading. For
while Islam teaches that God has indeed revealed Himself to
all peoples, it also insists that these various revelations to non-
Mohammedans have in every case become so distorted and
vitiated as to be quite untrustworthy and practically worthless,
and that they have all been superseded by the Koran. The
Koran, on the other hand, has no human or fallible element in
it. It was written not by Mohammed, but by God, and given
to the Prophet through the dictation of the Angel Gabriel.
Hence it is absolutely and infallibly inspired not only as to its
ideas, but in all its words. God did not inspire the Prophet to
write the Koran; God wrote the Koran and wrote it in Arabic,
and the very Arabic words, being the words of God, have a
virtue and a value of their own.
This exceedingly childish and mechanical view of inspira
tion has had — and must continue to have — its deadening
effect upon all real advance of thought in Moslem communities.
Moslems will, of course, deny this, but it is inevitable. A Sufi,
whom I questioned as to the relation of Islam to scientific prog
ress, insisted that Islam was in no way opposed to science —
so long as science conformed to the Koran and the Traditions of
the Prophet. Such necessary conformity, of course, means the
death of free thought. Neither philosophy nor science nor in
telligent literary criticism nor human and satisfying theology
296

THE MOHAMMEDANS
can have any healthy growth when clapped forever within the
plaster cast of such a dogma. The history of Moslem thought is
one long illustration of this. There is, indeed, some slight lati
tude permitted in the interpretation of the Traditions and of
the Koran. Thus, as several Moslems told me, the description
of Creation in seven days need not be taken literally, as a day
might be to God as a thousand years. Moreover, on certain
questions there are contradictory statements within the Koran
itself, so that he who naturally favors a liberal view may some
times be able to quote- the Koran as his authority. As a prac
tical matter there is thus some opportunity for developing
thought within Islam — as in fact we have seen when dealing
with human freedom and the nature of God. But as a matter
of principle there is no justification for the growth of thought
developing beyond the words of the Koran. Apparently neither
Mohammed nor any orthodox Moslem theologian x has ever
had any real conception of the possibility of a developing theol
ogy in response to growing human needs. And in fact it is
questionable whether any of the founders of religions except
Jesus fully understood the great advantages of enunciating
principles only and leaving the applications and the verbal
formulations of them to the varying needs of subsequent ages, N
But, as I have said, some practical advance in Moslem theol
ogy there has been — in spite of its doctrine of revelation
rather than because of it. This is noticeable not only in its
view of God and of human freedom, but in its doctrine of the
future life. The beliefs of intelligent Moslems to-day concern
ing heaven and hell are, indeed, in no way inconsistent with the
Koran; yet the steady tendency has been and is to emphasize
the moral and spiritual aspect of the Koranic teachings and
either to interpret the materialistic passages symbolically or
to pass them over in silence. There is no doubt that both these
aspects exist in the Koran, and the whole development, if such
a word should be used, is purely a matter of relative emphasis.
But when one compares the materialistic pictures of heaven that
have had such influence in the Islam of the past with the views
held by great numbers of Mohammedans to-day, the change in
1 Of course there are liberal theologians who hold no such slavish posi
tion toward the Koran, but these men are heretical and extremely rare.
897

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
emphasis certainly approximates real development in thought.
Several informants of mine — ordinary Moslem merchants —
insisted that the descriptions of heaven in the Koran must not
be taken to mean that it is a place of sensuous delight. They
admitted that many of the lower Moslems so regard it, and that
Mohammed wrote as he did for the Arabs who were around
him. But they affirmed with emphasis that the real meaning of
these materialistic passages is simply that each good man shall
have in heaven what he most desires; and when we get there
we shall probably not want sensuous delights even if here we
think that we shall. No one knows, said they, what the joys of
heaven are to be: but they will be spiritual — "peace from
Allah" and the presence of God.
f This emphasis upon the spiritual passages of the Koran and
Ithis symbolic interpretation of the materialistic passages is
parried still further by the intellectual leaders of liberal Islam.
The following, for instance, I take from a little book by Mo
hammed Ali, editor of the "Review of Religions": —
"The gulf that is generally interposed between this life and
the life after death is the great obstacle in the solution of the
mystery of the hereafter. Islam makes that gulf disappear al
together: it makes the next life as only a continuation of the
present life. . . . The great facts which shall be brought to
light on the day of the resurrection shall not be anything new
but only a manifestation of what is hidden from the physical
eye here. . . . The Holy Quran makes it clear that the state
after death is a complete representation, a full and clear image,
of our spiritual state in this life. . . . The pleasures and pains
of the next life, therefore, though spiritual in reality will not
be hidden from the ordinary eye as spiritual facts are in this
life." 1
Islam also holds that hell is not eternal, and from this the
more liberal Moslems conclude that there will be infinite prog
ress in the next life for both bad and good. "Those who have
wasted their opportunities in this life," writes Mohammed Ali,
"shall, under the inevitable law that makes every man taste
of what he has done, be subjected to a course of treatment of
the spiritual diseases which they have brought about with their
1 Islam (Quadion, the Sadr Anjuman-I-Ahmadiyya, 1912), pp. 27-30.
298

THE MOHAMMEDANS
own hands, and when the effect of the poison which vitiated
their systems has been nullified and they are fit to start on the
onward journey to the great goal, they shall no more be in hell.
This is the reason that the punishment of hell according to the
Holy Quran is not everlasting. It is meant to clean a man of
the dross which is a hindrance in his spiritual progress, and when
that object has been affected its need vanishes. Nor is para
dise a place to enjoy the blessings only of one's previous good
deeds, but it is a starting-point of the development of the facul
ties of man. Those in paradise are not idle, but are continually
exerting themselves to reach the higher stages. It is for this
reason that they are taught to pray even there to their Lord :
'0 our Lord! make perfect for us our light.' " J
The odd combination of breadth and narrowness which we
saw in the Moslem view of revelation is reflected again in the
attitude of Mohammedans toward non-Moslems. Islam is
regarded as the fulfillment and completion of all other religions
— it is the crown of Christianity, just as Christianity is the
crown of Judaism. Theoretically all religions have some meas
ure of truth. Yet as a matter of fact the doctrine of the dis
tortion of all revelations except that of Mohammed in effect
nearly nullifies most of the really fine and liberal expressions
which one finds in the Koran and in the writings of modern
Moslems. There is practically no hope for any beside Moslems,
Christians, and Jews, for only these worship the One True God,
and only these (if we may trust the more explicit statements of
the Koran) have had a genuine written revelation. They are
"the people of the book"; and though "God hath sent men to
every nation to teach them the right way," this book revela
tion seems to be particularly important for salvation. Jews and
Christians may be saved if they are true to their respective
revelations. But as a fact very few are. For we are assured the
present Old and New Testaments have been badly tampered
with, and to get at the truth which they originally contained
one must have recourse to the Koran; and most Christians and
Jews are strangely obstinate in refusing to do this. The Old
Testament, moreover, commands the Jews to recognize Jesus
as a Prophet of God, and if a Jew does not do this he will go
1 Islam (Quadion, the Sadr Anjuman-I-Ahmadiyya, 1912), pp. 37-38.
299

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
to hell. In like manner the real New Testament (so I was as
sured by learned and ignorant Moslems alike — and they have
the Koran for their authority) — the real New Testament, be
fore its text was tampered with and vitiated, taught that Jesus
was not God and must not be worshiped; and that he was not
really crucified, but was taken bodily up into heaven and an
illusory body substituted; and it also taught that Mohammed
should come and complete God's revelation — for the Para
clete means Mohammed ( !) . Hence no Christian who worships
Christ or believes in the Trinity can be saved. My Moslem
friends were kind enough to intimate that there might be some
chance for a Unitarian Christian — though they did not feel
at all sure of this, inasmuch as Unitarians do not usually be
lieve in Mohammed and the Koran. Belief in particular doc
trines forms a large part of the Moslem method of salvation;
and every religion of which this is true must necessarily exhibit
a good deal of intolerance. Certainly the history of Islam has
shown this in no small measure, and it is questionable whether
the religion of the Prophet can ever throw it off altogether and
retain anything distinctive.
In India, however, this intolerance is becoming steadily more
and more a matter of theory only. The influence of British
rule and the constant rubbing-up against Hindu, Christian,
Jaina, and Parsee neighbors are having their inevitable effect.
One acquainted only with the history of Islam, or with the re
ligion as seen in Turkey, would, I think, be astonished at the
tolerance and liberality of thought manifested by a very large
proportion of Indian Moslems. As an illustration of what I
mean, while in Benares not only was I invited to attend the
Friday service and to kneel down side by side with the faithful
during their prayers, but after the service was ended I was
asked to make an address, there in the mosque. I am not sure
in how many Christian churches a professed Mohammedan
would be asked to make a public speech at the end of the Sun
day service.
Of course this would not have been possible in all the mosques
in India; and in a few of them one still sees the sign, "No
Hindus, Christians, dogs, or other non-Mussulmans admitted."
Still, I think there is little question but that the general tend-
300

THE MOHAMMEDANS
ency among Indian Moslems is toward true tolerance and a
certain kind of liberality in thought and action.
The active duties of the Moslem are divided by the theolo
gians into those which one owes to God and those which one
owes to man. It is significant that prayer is regarded as be
longing to the former of these two classes. It is not so much
a means of getting what one wants, or of satisfying one's in
most longings, as a service which one owes to God. This view^
of prayer explains both the nature of Moslem prayers and the
manner in which they are said. One must make his prayers j
five times every day at certain stated intervals — the first !
being before sunrise. Before saying them one must first washs
his head, hands, and feet, and while praying he must kneel and
bow down in the direction of Mecca. The prayers he is to say ,
are definitely specified — being all made up of verses from the
Koran. He may, of course, add as many petitions of his own
as he cares to; but in each of his five daily prayers he must
begin with the following: —
" In the name of Allah, the Merciful and the Compassionate."
"All holy praises are due to God, who out of his mercy pro
vides for our welfare before we have done aught to deserve it,
the Merciful God who rewards our deeds mercifully." "Sole
judge of the Day of Judgment who has not given to any one
else His right to judge his creatures." "Thou to whom all
these praises are due, Thee alone do we worship and of Thee
alone do we seek assistance in all matters." " Guide us, O Lord,
into the right path which leads to Thee, and let it be so that,
remaining firm in that path, we may be guided to walk in the
footsteps of persons upon whom have been thy blessings and
favors. Save us, O Lord, from the path of the people upon
whom has been Thy wrath and of those who, having fallen
into errors, have gone astray and not reached Thee." "Be it
so, 0 God!"
The nature of these prayers shows the purpose aimed at
by them. From the objective point of view they are praises
rendered to the Most High, and subjectively considered they^
have value in focusing the mind five times every day on God
and on the desirability of righteousness. An admirable institu- '
tion this; but one unfortunately whose value has been largely
301

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
vitiated in the usual Indian fashion. The prayers must be said
in Arabic, and to the great majority of Indian Mohammedans
Arabic is an unknown tongue, so that the prayers which they
recite are merely songs without words. They learn to make the
noises, but most of them have either never learned the meaning
of them or have long ago forgotten it. Of course there are very
many Moslems — even among the uneducated — of whom this
is not true. Many make a point of finding out what the prayers
mean and of following in their minds the meaning of the strange
Arabic syllables. Many also, at the close of the formal prayers,
add petitions of their own and pray to God as genuinely as any
Christian. I think no one can watch a Mohammedan praying
alone at sunset-time, or can attend the public prayers in the
mosque on Friday without feeling that there is here a great deal
of genuine devoutness and true worship.
This, at any rate, has been my experience. I have attended
the "Friday mosque" more than once and have always come
away considerably impressed. The throng of Mussulmans
worshiping in the great mosque at Delhi — rising, kneeling,
prostrating themselves on the pavement, with the uniformity of
a military drill and as if all mastered by one impulse — this
is a memorable sight. But perhaps even more impressive is the
worship in a small mosque with only twenty or thirty present.
The leader is seated on a flight of four or five steps which serve
as a pulpit, facing the audience, who sit on mats, Indian fashion,
in two or three rows on the floor. The service begins by one of
the men in the front row (not the leader) chanting in slow and
musical cadences the Arabic prayers which I have copied out
above. Then the leader takes his stand on the top of his step-
ladder pulpit and reads a sermon which is usually not of his own
writing, but is taken from a book of sermons from the pen of
some well-known preacher. The sermon ended, he descends and
places himself in front of the audience and with his back to
ward them, so that he as well as they may face the kiblah or
niche which shows the direction of Mecca. The congregation
rises and the leader intones a series of Arabic prayers, with a
long pause after each — thus giving an opportunity for silent
prayer and meditation. Each prayer is accompanied by a
change of attitude, leader and congregation bowing, rising, (
302

THE MOHAMMEDANS
kneeling, and prostrating themselves as one man. At the close
of the service few, if any, go at once; nearly all stay and con
tinue praying, — each one silently and by himself. In this
service in the mosque there is a simplicity that must appeal to
every observer. It has a directness that makes it very much
more comprehensible to the stranger than is, for instance, the
Catholic mass to the average Protestant. >
Besides prayer, the Moslem's duties toward God may be >
summed up under fasts, feasts, and pilgrimages. Pilgrimages
are common to many religions, and as practiced in modern
times are usually an anachronism for which justification is
sought in various ways. Intelligent Moslems defend the pil
grimage to Mecca as an opportunity for very great self-sacri
fice. As a matter of fact, it is of course a survival from a primi
tive stage of thought; and as it brings the pilgrim into Arabia
it is the last stronghold of old-fashioned Mussulman intoler
ance and fanaticism.
The manner of observance of the great Mohammedan fast, l
in the month Ramadhan, varies with the observer. For those ^
who really wish to grow in grace it is an opportunity for crucify
ing the flesh and refining the spirit. Since abstaining from
food, however, is required only during the day, those who care
to fulfill only the letter of the law may, if they like, turn the
fast into a feast during the hours of night, or even into a revel.
My Moslem friends assured me that this was very uncommon
in India, and as Ramadhan did not come round during my
stay there I have no way of judging for myself. Certainly the
picture which they drew of the terrible thirst which they vol
untarily suffer all day long and day after day, when Ramadhan
comes in the hot season, made me feel that to be a good Moslem
at such a time required considerable firmness of will and very
real devotion to one's religion.
The celebration of Muharram is certainly not a religious duty
comparable to the Mecca pilgrimage or the fast of Ramadhan.
It has no basis, as they have, in the Koran — as indeed is ob
vious inasmuch as the event which it commemorates occurred
many years after Mohammed's death. Yet it is a religious cus
tom of considerable importance for both Sunnis and Shiahs
all over India and should have some mention here. The
303

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
Muharram festival commemorates the death of al-Hasan and
al-Husayn, the two sons of Ali and Fatima (hence grandsons of
the Prophet), who in the opinion of the Shiahs were the right
ful inheritors of the Kaliphate, and who many even of the
Sunnis admit were good men and died as martyrs in an attempt
to prevent the Kaliphate from falling into the hands of an am
bitious and wine-drinking politician. Hence in every town in
India Sunnis and Shiahs join in the celebration. Taziahs, or im
itation tombs of pasteboard, brilliantly decorated (represent
ing the tombs of the two young martyrs), are carried through
the streets in procession and the less costly of them destroyed
amid pretended weeping (the more elaborate being put safely
away for next year) . The central figure in the parade is a white
horse, covered with a white and red cloth, representing the
bloody charger of al-Husayn as he returned riderless from the
battle. Five days are given up to the festivities and the last
one ends up with a kind of miracle-play, or a series of vaude
ville performances, and the whole town, Hindu and Moham
medan alike, turns out and has a good time. I should add that
many of the more religious Moslems deplore the Muharram
celebration and take no part in it. But there is no doubt that
it forms one of the external observances of the rank and file and
is regarded by them as having at least something to do with
religion.
fr* If prayer, fasting, and pilgrimage constitute the Moslem's
Iduties toward God, his duty toward man is summed up in the
[Word charity. And in the teaching of this duty the Moslem
' means something very definite and businesslike. All Moslems
1 but the very poor are required by their religion to put aside a
\ certain percentage of their income to be disbursed in charity.
Theoretically this money should be collected by the State —
for theoretically the State is a theocracy with the Prophet or
the Kaliph at its head. But in States which are purely human
institutions the money is collected in each community by the
imam — an individual chosen by his fellows for the perform
ance of certain duties relating to the religion. The money thus
collected is devoted to helping the poor, assisting slaves in buy
ing back their freedom, and debtors in paying their debts, and
helping strangers in the land who need assistance.
304

A TAZIAH, IN THE MUHARRUM PROCESSION, BENARES

THE MOHAMMEDANS
One of the most important of one's duties toward one's fel
lows is the education of the young and particularly their train
ing in morals and religion. It cannot be said that in the per
formance of this duty the Mohammedan is very intelligent or
even very zealous.1 Most Moslem boys are sent to a Moslem
school to learn Arabic and the Koran before going to the regu
lar school to learn English. Children in India as a rule, how
ever, have things pretty much their own way and no great
effort is made to force them to learn. And so it happens that
most Mohammedan boys shirk their lessons (for boys will be
boys even in India) and learn very little Arabic, and that
little they soon forget. One enthusiastic Moslem told me that
perhaps a quarter of the Moslem men and boys in Benares
could read Arabic. An equally zealous but much more intel
ligent fellow-religionist, on hearing this, added it was probably
true, but very misleading; perhaps a quarter do know how
to read Arabic, but this means merely that they know how to
read it aloud — they can make the sounds, but have little
notion as to the meaning. It is in this manner that the Arabic
prayers are said and that the Koran is read in the homes of
the great majority. It is read aloud in Arabic, not one of the
family having a notion as to what it is all about; it is kept on
a shelf and honored, but neither obeyed nor understood.
Of course this is not true of all Moslems. In many homes,
lowly as well as learned, a mullah comes once a month or
oftener and reads the Koran to the family, first in Arabic, then
in translation. Good translations of the Koran in the vernac
ular exist and are used by a few. And of course the vernacular
preaching in the Friday mosque is a source of very real reli
gious education for children and adults alike.
The absence of a professional priestly class in Islam is one
of the causes of the lack of systematic religious education. The
mullahs or moulvies are merely learned laymen who are well
read in the Koran and its theology and are sometimes willing
'According to the 191 1 census, the Moslems are the most illiterate re
ligious community in India, only 6.9 per cent of the males and .4 per cent
of the females being able to read. For Hindus the percentages are 10. 1 and
.8 (for males and females respectively), while for Christians they are 29.3
and 13.5. The percentage is still higher for the Buddhists and Jainas and
highest of all for the Parsees. 305

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
to preach and teach it. The imam who presides at the Friday
services is in no sense a priest, but merely a member of the
community paid by the others to read the Koran and a sermon
and to have charge of the mosque. He is chosen, not because
of any special learning or zeal on his part, but often merely
because he is unable to make a living in any other way. As a
result there is no one who feels it his special duty to look after
the moral and spiritual welfare of the community. On the
other hand, there are marked advantages in this absence of a
priestly class, — advantages too patent to any one acquainted
with Hinduism to need enumeration. The Moslem is subject
to no ecclesiastical tyranny and at the mercy of no superstition-
spreading authority. There is no mediator, human or semi-
divine, between him and his God. He goes in prayer directly
to Allah, and to Him alone is he responsible for his beliefs and
his actions.
Religious and moral education among the Moslems in India
seems to have reached a pretty low ebb. My friends assured
me, however, that there were signs of the turning of the tide,
and they were somewhat hopeful (though by no means san
guine) over the future. The progressive movement may be\
said to have its center in Aligarh, where there is a large Mo
hammedan college. The college was founded by the great Mos- J
lem reformer Syed Ahmad Khan, with the aim of providing
young men with a sound education, the central part of which
should be a thorough grounding in the doctrines of the Moslem
faith and a prolonged and careful moral training. According
to the Prospectus, a learned and pious moulvie supervises the
religious life of the students. "The first period of each day's
work is devoted to the lectures on theology and attendance on
these lectures is enforced by regulations as stringent as those
regulating the ordinary class work of the college. Attendance
at prayers in the college mosque is also compulsory. On Fri
day the college is closed at eleven so as to allow the students
to attend at Juma prayers, after which a sermon is delivered
by the resident moulvie." x
The college at Aligarh is not the only institution whose aim
is to give the Moslem youth an education that shall be founded
1 Quoted in Farquhar's Modern Religious Movements in India, p. 94-
306

THE MOHAMMEDANS
in religion. Few other Moslem schools, however, have the same
liberal tendencies of thought to be found at Aligarh. A num
ber of associations have been formed with the double purpose
of giving to young men a sound orthodox religious training, and
of combating efforts of Christian and Arya missionaries and
writers. Besides these movements for the religious education of the
young, something is being done by means of itinerant preachers
to rekindle the light of a truer Islam among nominal Moham
medans; and even to spread the faith of the Prophet among
the lower strata of Hindu society. One of the sufis with whom
I talked spends most of his time traveling about northern
India exhorting his fellow-Moslems to purer lives and a stricter
Mohammedanism; and he is only one of many revivalists (as
we should call them) who travel about, largely at their own
charges, from city to city, preaching in the mosques, address
ing small groups of the faithful in private homes, and exhort
ing individuals to a stricter observance of the behests of the
Prophet. The influence of these men, however, must not be
overrated, for their numbers are few. A community of a hun
dred thousand Moslems may get two or three such visits during
the course of a year ; and many a village is almost untouched by
their influence. But the need of their ministration is very real,
for a large proportion of the sixty-seven million Moslems in
India knows but little about their religion. "Of many, nom
inally Muslims," writes Professor Arnold, "it may be said that
they are half Hindus: they observe caste rules, they join in
Hindu festivals and practice numerous idolatrous ceremonies.
In certain districts large numbers of Mohammedans may be
found who know nothing of their religion but its name : they
have no mosques, nor do they observe the hours of prayer." 1
Most of the work of Moslem preachers is devoted to winning
back these lost sheep; but the effort at gaining new converts
from heathen darkness has never been given up. Islam has
always been a missionary religion and it is so to-day. Moslem
missions have been of a different sort from the Christian,
but quite effective none the less: and their influence has been
1 The Preaching of Islam (second edition. New York, Scribners, 1913),
p. 286. 307

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
almost equal to that of conquest in spreading the faith of the
Prophet in the really marvelous manner to which history bears
witness. Up to the close of the last century Islam possessed
practically no institutions corresponding to our foreign mis
sionary societies and our Collegio di Propaganda Fide. Instead
of paid missionaries, individual enthusiasts have undertaken
the missionary venture, living in Oriental simplicity upon the
pittance contributed by their converts or by the "heathen"
among whom they labored. And besides these men, who have
given up all their time to the spreading of the faith, innumer
able men and women engaged in ordinary occupations have
felt the preaching of Islam to the non-Moslems among whom
they lived to be an incidental but exceedingly important duty.
Especially has this been true of the Moslem trader, who has
carried — and is carrying — along with his commercial wares,
the message of the Prophet to the utmost corners of Asia,
Africa, and Polynesia. It is to these unsystematic methods of
propaganda that Islam has owed its converts during the past
two centuries; but in imitation of Christian methods, more
systematic efforts are now being made by Indian Moslems.
Professor Arnold x enumerates seven Moslem missionary socieA
ties (as we should call them) in various parts of India. Thein
missionaries adopt the methods used by their Christian op-/
ponents, especially street-preaching,2 and their success during
the last thirty years or more has been considerable. In 1887
a writer in the "Spectator" could say, "We are quoting the
results of long and minute enquiry when we say that in India
the average addition to Islam by conversion exceeds a hundred
thousand a year." 3 It is questionable whether this rate has
been continued to the present time; in the decade, 1891-1901,
the increase was at the rate of 8.9 per cent, whereas in 1901-11
it fell to 6.7 per cent — a rate of increase no higher than that
of the total population. Still a considerable amount of pros
elyting is undoubtedly going on,4 especially among the low-
caste Hindus, who find the same improvement in their social
1 See Appendix III to The Preaching of Islam.
2 Ibid., p. 285.
8 Spectator for October, 1887, p. 1383.
4 I should add that there are at present three (heterodox) Moslem mis
sionaries laboring in England. 308

THE MOHAMMEDANS
condition by embracing Islam that often prompts them to ac
cept Christianity.
And it should be added that with this social improvement
goes a very real moral and religious advance. In view of this
fact it is often astonishing to note the hostility manifested by
Christian missionaries and other Christians toward this Mos
lem movement. In the zeal of proselyting and the zest of play
ing the game and beating the other fellow, they seem often to
be altogether careless of the real spiritual progress made by the
convert to Islam; as if the great aim were not the uplift of
India's oppressed and benighted millions, but the swelling
of the numbers in the next missionary report.1
This effort to teach both ignorant Moslems and low-caste
Hindus the most elementary principles of Islamic monotheism
and morality is by far the most important part of the Moham
medan reform movement. The attempt to liberalize Moslem
theology is not meeting with any great success nor are its pros
pects at present very bright. A few really liberal thinkers there
are, indeed, working most enthusiastically in defense of a spir
itual and glorified Islam (such as never was on land or sea!);
men who are seeking to spread what their leader calls "the
spirit of Islam," rather than the letter.2 Their influence, how
ever, is decidedly limited and for some years to come, at any
rate, it is hardly to be hoped that this new leaven will leaven
any appreciable part of the Mohammedan lump. The message
"Back to the Koran!" on the other hand, — with a correlated
effort to purify popular Islam from various Hindu supersti
tions and late accretions, — is more promising, though it can
hardly be said to offer much to the really intelligent and modern
Moslem. To the average ignorant Moslem it is, indeed, a step
in advance; for the animistic and non-moral superstitions to
which I referred just now as "late accretions" are, of course,
really much older than Mohammed and date from several
1 It should be said, however, in explanation of the missionary's position
that he is considering the ultimate welfare of the convert and of India, and
that he realizes how much more difficult it is to convert a Moslem to Chris
tianity than a low-caste Hindu. If the low-caste Hindu is ever to become a
Christian it is important that he should not be made a Moslem. It is a case
of the good being the worst enemy of the best.
1 See Amir Ali's The Spirit of Islam (Calcutta, Lahiri, 1902).
309

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
thousand years B.C. Yet we, who are not of the Faithful and
who believe that the Koran was written in the seventh century
and in Arabia (instead of before all time and in heaven), can
not regard the process of tying up more tightly to that rather
primitive book as an assurance of any very great progress. A
section of the modern world whose leaders are intent chiefly on
making fast its moorings to 622 A.D. is destined to find itself
quite lonely before long. And after all, the most hopeful sign
for the future of Mohammedanism is not the attitude of its
scholars, but the fact that there are some indications of a gen
eral feeling of the necessity of better education among all the
more intelligent. \
One more token of progress, or at least of the possibility of\
progress, is the increasing number nf"pr/.<| throughout Moslem 1
India. The orthodox Sunnis bewail this, but it is a healthy sign/
none the less, and shows that, at least within certain narrow
limits, many Moslems are able and eager to do some thinking
and choosing for themselves. The points of difference that di
vide the sects, to be sure, are often ancient quarrels that should
have been made up long ago, or questions of doctrine and life
that seem to most Westerners surprisingly trivial or antiquated.
The great division, of course, is that between the Sunnis and
the Shiahs, whose chief bone of contention is the question
whether or not the Kaliphs who were not of the house of Ali
deserved their position. It is really an old political feud kept
alive to-day by the fact that the Shiahs still curse the first
three Kaliphs, while the Sunnis regard them as saints, and also
by the fact that the Sunnis consider the Turkish Sultan in some
sense the head of the Moslem world, and the Shiahs deny this.
Each of these great divisions has its many subdivisions, some
ancient, some recent, in origin. Thus most of the Shiahs in
sist that the "true Imam" or successor of the Prophet is hid
den away by the Lord, to be brought forward by Him at some
time in the future, while the Khojah Shiahs insist that His
Highness the Agha Khan is the representative of the true
Imam. The majority of the Sunnis are simply Sunnis, but
there is also a great number of Sunni sub-sects, the most im
portant of which are the Wahabis, a body of Puritans who con
demn various observances — such as prayer at the tombs of
310

THE MOHAMMEDANS
saints, the use of the taziahs at Muharram, the celebration of
the Prophet's birthday, etc. — which ordinary Sunnis permit
and approve. New sects are being constantly formed by en
thusiasts who get a more or less local following. An interesting
example of this is the sect founded only a few years ago by one
Mirza Ghulam Ahmad. Besides urging more exact obedience
to the Koran and a purer life and worship, the chief points (and
the only distinctive points) of his teaching were: (i) that Jesus
was not taken bodily up into heaven (as other Sunnis believe),
and therefore could never come again as "the Promised Mes
siah"; and (2) that he, Mirza Ghulam Ahmad, was "the
Promised Messiah." He was also, it seems, the Mahdi (whom
Mohammed had prophesied) and the tenth avatar of Vishnu,
but his chief r61e was that of the Messiah. He was greatly in
censed at the claims of John Alexander Prophet Elijah Dowie,
for it was pretty evident that the Prophet Elijah was unwilling
to undo the shoe-laces of the Promised Messiah; and he offered
to prove that Dowie was an impostor by proclaiming pub
licly that Dowie would die before he did,1 — which, in fact, the
Prophet Elijah was kind enough to do, the Promised Messiah
managing to hang on to this wicked world till the year 1908.
This his five hundred thousand followers throughout India
naturally regard as a remarkable fulfillment of prophecy and
incontestable proof of his Messiahship.2
But in spite of the unimportant nature of many of the ideas at
the basis of most of the sects, there is often some sound feeling
for moral reform at least in their inception. And it is high time
for some such movement. For both religiously and morally
large sections of the Moslem world are in a bad way. Rank
superstition has been dominant among the less intelligent Mos
lems for centuries, and is far from being expelled to-day. In
northwestern India and in Afghanistan, I am told, the rever-
1 See " Divine Judgment in Dowie's Death, or the Fulfillment of a Grand
Prophecy," Review of Religions (Quadion, India) for April, 1907.
* Dowie was not the only one whose death Ghulam Ahmad foretold. In
fact his predictions of death and disgrace for various individuals came so
thick and fast that at last the Government had to interfere and make him
promise to keep these unpleasant tidings to himself. Before its interven
tion, however, the prophet had foretold the death of one hundred and
twenty of the wicked in addition to that of John Alexander.
3H

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
ence at the tombs of saints has degenerated into something
very close to saint worship : — all my Moslem acquaintances,
I should add, deny this stoutly, but I believe their loyalty and
zeal here mislead them.1 Certainly practices quite as far re
moved from the teachings of the Prophet are to be found in
less remote corners. One of the most zealous Moslems I met
told me, with shame and sorrow, of sights he had seen in La
hore — Mohammedans worshiping their taziahs in the Mu
harram procession, and bands of zealots going through the
streets beating their bare backs with spiked chains. Similar
ascetic practices are not uncommon in other parts of the Mos
lem world. In the feast of Nebby Mousa in Jerusalem I have
seen Moslem ascetics marching up from the "tomb of Moses"
with skewers passed through the festering flesh of their cheeks.
Mohammedans have never been noted for their sexuaft
purity, and both missionaries and earnest Moslems have as
sured me that they are growing no better. They are said to be
worse in this respect than their Hindu neighbors — though not
so bad, it should be added, as European Christians. Islam
permits polygamy and has done very little to elevate woman
above the position in which Mohammed found her.2 Certainly
woman owes very little to Islam. It is, however, a libel against
that religion to assert that it denies woman a soul. Moslems |
believe that good women go to heaven and rejoin their hus-j
bands, and that married women shall in heaven have husbands!
if they want them. But the ideal of the marriage tie is for
most Moslems not very lofty. The Prophet knew his own flesh
1 There is plenty of evidence for this (see, e.g., W. Crooke's Popular Re
ligion and Folklore of Northern India [Allahabad, Government Press, 1894],
pp. 127-44). In fact there is nothing at all surprising about it, and it is to
be met with in various parts of the Moslem world. In Syria I have seen
(as every traveler in that country has) marks of superstitious reverence be
fore the tombs of Mohammedan saints. Goldziher has shown how this and
other similar heathen customs, common to Arabia and many other parts
of the world in the days before Mohammed, were carried into Islam and
have never been weeded out. See his Muhammedanische Studien (Halle,
Niemeyer, 1888), vol. i, pp. 229-63.
2 This view is stoutly attacked by Amir Ali, in his Spirit of Islam (part
II, chap. iv). He points out that Mohammed did something to regulate
divorce and that the Koran regards marriage as a sacred institution. Per
haps this is more than "very little"; but it is difficult to be exact in ques
tions of more and less. 3T2

THE MOHAMMEDANS
pretty well, and was very generous in making allowance for the
flesh of his (male) followers. One may have four wives, pro
vided he can support them and keep them from quarreling;
and divorce is extremely easy. Still, it must be remembered
that sexual relations outside of marriage are possible for the
Moslem only in defiance of Islam. A good Moslem cannot in
dulge in that sort of thing. Drunkenness has never been a
Mohammedan vice, owing to the splendid earnestness and
vigor with which Mohammed opposed it. And it cannot be'
said that the Moslems of to-day as a whole have forgotten
their ancient virtue of temperance; but (owing no doubt to
the influence of low-caste Hindus who must have their " todi,"
and high-caste Englishmen who must have their whiskey-and-
soda) many individual Mohammedans are beginning to break
the strict rules of their Prophet. The better Moslems deplore
these tendencies among their fellows very deeply. One of them
said to me: "Islam is the best and most moral of all religions;
its ideals are the highest and purest and noblest, and if a man
tried to be a true Moslem he would have to be a very good
man indeed. But as a fact here in India the Moslems are a very
bad lot. They are the worst men in the world considering their
great advantages as the inheritors of the only true religion.
Islam teaches temperance, purity, and honesty, but some Mos
lems are beginning to drink, and many of them keep prostitutes,
and are very dishonest in their business relations. They are
even neglecting the five hours of prayer and no longer go to the
mosque on Fridays. They have forsaken the plain teachings
of the Koran. It is probably for this reason that such terrible
calamities have come in recent years upon the Moslem world,
— the loss of empire in India and these last terrible defeats of
the Turks. It is the judgment of God. God is casting us off
because of our sins, just as He cast off the Jews."
I cannot but think that some of the moral slackness of the
Mohammedans is due to the very worldly example set them by
their human ideal, the Prophet. I have a good deal of admira
tion for Mohammed ; and if history had not crowned him as one
of the Founders of Religions and so forced a comparison, my
admiration would doubtless be more enthusiastic than it is.
But I never think of poor old fallible Mohammed introduced
313

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
into the glorious company of Zararhustra, Buddha, and Jesus,
without having a picture of a country beau suddenly set down
in a Parisian salon. There was much that was fine in Moham
med, especially in his Mecca days; but (to put it generously)
he was also very merciful in judging his own shortcomings. It
is said that a stream can rise no higher than its source, and\
certainly it seems possible to trace in the history of Moslem 1
morals the influence of its Prophet's sensuous propensities, J
his unscrupulous grasping after power, his occasional hard-'
heartedness and even cruelty toward his enemies. I am not
sure that the saying about the stream quoted above really ap
plies to religions; in fact, I feel persuaded that it does not. As
Homer was superior to his Zeus, so many Moslems have been
better men than their Prophet. And not only better than he;
they have been most kind to him and have done their best to
retouch the reputation of the poor old man, and explain away
half his shortcomings and forget the rest. It is almost pitiful
to talk with a Mohammedan to-day about his Prophet and
note the extreme efforts made to view all his actions in the
most admirable light. He took Zeid's wife to his own harem,
not out of any sensual desires of his own, but in order to please
Zeid, who had become tired of her, etc., etc. The good Moslem i
will hear nothing of Mohammed's acts of cruelty and faithless- 1
ness; instead he dwells with loving admiration upon his un- I
selfish devotion and his persistent preaching during the dark
days at Mecca and upon the beautifully democratic simplicity
of his life after he had become the paramount Lord of Arabia.
Thus the historical Mohammed is being made over into a moral
ideal more consonant with modern notions. Yet if modern
feeling is influencing the ideal, the ideal that Mohammed
actually set has had its effect upon modern Moslem feeling:
and I think there can be little doubt that Moslem ethical ideals \
of to-day are much lower than they would have been had they
started with a Moses or a Buddha — to say nothing of a _
Christ. I would not, however, leave the impression that the Moslem
ideal is low. It is lower than the Christian, but as ideals go in
this world it is fairly high. The chief trouble with the MoslemsX
(as with the rest of us) is that they do not live up to the ideals j
314

THE MOHAMMEDANS
they have. Judged by their own standards they are in a sad
moral condition. Yet there are many left who have not bowed ,
the knee to Baal. The very earnestness with which my friend
whom I quoted above bewailed the sins of the Moslem world
showed the strength of the moral ideal in many a Moslem
heart. To men of this sort the stern Daughter of the Voice of^
God, who speaks in no uncertain tones in many a noble pas
sage of the Koran, is the Supreme Ruler of life. An example of/1
the strong control it exerts over even small details was shown
me (quite unostentatiously and unintentionally) by the man
from whom I have just quoted. He had been for years a great
smoker, and the habit was strong upon him. During the six
weeks of our acquaintance, he discovered that when he woke in
the morning the desire to smoke was so strong that either he
had to smoke before praying, or he found his mind filled with
the thought of the smoke while saying his prayers. Thereupon
he determined to stop smoking altogether, and to do so at once
without any tapering off. It cost him two very unpleasant
weeks, but he conquered and broke his pleasant habit ab
solutely. Nothing should be allowed to interfere with his
morning prayer.
I have spoken of drunkenness among the Moslems, but I
should add that the drunken Moslem is like the Sunday-School
superintendent who robs the bank. We hear a good deal about
both, but just because both are so uncommon. A missionary
friend of mine told me once (and not altogether with sadness)
of a certain saloon where the bartender was a Moslem. Doubt
less what he said was true; but has it ever seemed worth while
to any one to make mention of a saloon in which the bartender
was a Christian?
There can be no doubt that Islam, if taken and obeyed in its
most ideal form, is capable of being a great force for the moral
life. To take one small point only — it is impossible (as one of
my Moslem friends pointed out) to say one's prayers thought
fully and devoutly five times every day, thereby directing one's
thoughts to God and to the desire for righteousness, without
becoming a better man. It may be of interest to some of my
readers to see what is said of this more ideal side of Islam
by an English nobleman who has recently turned Moslem; —
315

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
I refer, of course, to Lord Headley. He writes: "Though my
gratitude for God's favors and loving care has been profound
from my earliest youth, I cannot help observing that within
the past few years, since the pure and convincing faith of the
Muslims has become a reality in my heart and mind, I found
a happiness and security never approached before. Freedom
from the weird dogmas of the various branches of the Chris
tian churches came to me like a breath of pure sea air, and on
realizing the simplicity as well as the illuminating splendor of
Islam, I was as a man emerging from a cloudy tunnel into the
light of day." J Mohammedans, he believes, are better Chris
tians than most Christian missionaries; and he adds, "I say
'better Christians' advisedly, because the charity, tolerance,
and broad-mindedness of the Muslim faith come nearer to what
Christ himself taught than do the somewhat narrow tenets of
the various Christian churches. ... I received a letter — it was
apropos of my leaning towards Islam — in which the writer
told me that if I did not believe in the divinity of Christ I
would not be saved. The question of the divinity of Christ
never seemed to me nearly so important as that other ques
tion: Did He give God's message to mankind? Now,: I if had
any doubt about this latter point it would worry me a great
deal: but, thank God, I have no doubt, and I hope that my
faith in Christ and His inspired teachings is as firm as that of
any other Muslim or Christian. As I have often said before,
Islam and Christianity as taught by Christ himself are sister >
religions, only held apart by dogmas and technicalities which
might very well be dispensed with. In the present day men
are prone to become atheists when asked to subscribe to dog
matic and intolerant beliefs, and there is doubtless a craving
for a religion appealing to the intelligence as well as to the
sentiments. Who ever heard of a Muslim turning atheist?
There may have been cases, but I very much doubt it." 2
In equally enthusiastic strain, Mohammed Ali writes of his
religion: "It teaches men to display high morals under the
most adverse circumstances; to be honest even when honesty is
likely to lead one into complications; to speak truth even when
1 From an article by Lord Headley in Muslim India, vol. I, no. 10.
1 Quoted in Muslim India from the London Observer.
316

THE MOHAMMEDANS
one's truthful statement is against those nearest and dearest to
one; to show sympathy even at the sacrifice of one's own in
terests; to be patient under the hardest afflictions; to be good
even to those who have done evil. At the same time it teaches
the middle path : it teaches men to exercise the noble qualities
which have been placed in their nature by God while transact
ing their own affairs. It does not inculcate severance from
one's worldly connections; it requires men to be chaste, but
not by castration; it requires them to serve God, but not as
monks; it enjoins them to spend their wealth, but not in such
a manner as to sit down 'blamed and straitened in means'; it
teaches them to be submissive, but not by losing self-respect;
it exhorts them to forgive, but not in such a manner as to
bring destruction upon society by emboldening culprits; it al
lows them to exercise all their rights, but not so as to violate
others; and last of all it requires them to preach their own
religion, but not by abusing others." J
These quotations, of course, idealize Islam — not so much
by what they say as by what they leave unsaid. Its theology
is primitive and crude, and there is little room within it for
mysticism — though, to be sure, the sufis have insisted on
bringing some mysticism into it, despite the deism of the Koran.
Excellent as are many of its ethical teachings, they are at best
only on a par with those of the Old Testament, and in spiritual
insight and loftiness of ideal cannot be seriously compared with
those of Christianity. There were, no doubt, many fine things
about Mohammed ; but as an ethical teacher and a moral in
spiration he has not much to give to the modern world. And
(most fatal of all its weaknesses, perhaps) orthodox Islam is
bound — and wishes to be bound — hand and foot to the words
and sentences of a book written by an Arab in the seventh
century. If it could once shake off this bondage and take as its
ideal something more lofty than the teachings and example of
poor old Mohammed, there might be in it the making of a great
religion. But, on the other hand, if it should do so it would lose
what is chiefly distinctive in it and become a kind of Unitarian
Christianity. 1 Islam, pp. 59-60.

CHAPTER XV
THE PARSEES
IT may seem quite out of true proportion to devote a whole
chapter to the religion of a people who number but one
hundred thousand out of India's three hundred and fifteen -
million; but the importance of the Parsees in history, their
prominence both commercially and intellectually in Indian
society, and the remarkably enlightened nature of their re
ligion will certainly justify it. As every one knows, the "PaM
sees" are the remnant of the ancient Persian Zoroastrians.||
When the Sasanian or mediaeval Persian Empire fell before the
rising power of Islam, at the battle of Nahawand in 642, the
great majority of the Zoroastrians yielded to the direct or in-^
direct persecutions of the conquerors and exchanged Zoroaster
for Mohammed. A few thousand only clung to their ancient
faith, and the majority of these, to avoid further persecution,
bade farewell to their native land and migrated to the western
coast of India. Here they were kindly received, and their set
tlements soon began to spread all over Gujerat, of which they
have formed, from that day to this, the most important com
mercial class. In the census of 191 1 there were exactly one hun-\
dred thousand one hundred Parsees in India, nearly all of them
within the Bombay Presidency. Besides these there are per- '
haps ten thousand still in Persia, and smaller numbers in scat
tered settlements in other parts of the East — such as Aden,
Ceylon, Siam, and China; but the headquarters of the religion
of Zoroaster is in and about the city of Bombay.
The Parsee creed is still distinguished by the noble simplicity
which marked the faith of their great prophet. Its nature may
in large part be seen by the following authoritative formula or
confession of faith which every Parsee child must learn in the
ancient Zend language and which every Parsee, young or old,
recites (in Zend) several times a day: —
" I am a worshiper of God [Mazda]. I am a Zoroastrian wor-
318

THE PARSEES
shiper of God. I agree to praise the Zoroastrian religion and to
believe in that religion. Ij3raise_gQod thoughts, good words.
good deeds^ I praise the good Mazdayacnian religion which
allayTdissensions and quarrels, which brings about kinship or
brotherhood, which is holy, which is the greatest, the best, and
the most excellent of all religions that exist or shall in future
exist, and which is the religion revealed by God [Ahura
Mazda] to Zoroaster. I ascribe all good to Ahura Mazda.
Tmsis the praise or profession of the Mazdayacnian relig
ion." i
The Mazdayacnian or Parsee religion thus claims to have
^been revealed by God to Zoroaster. In the glorious com
pany of the prophets this Aryan Zoroaster, or Zarathustra, as
his name is properly spelled and pronounced, occupies a very
illustrious place. According to Professor Jackson 2 and Dr.
West, he was born about 660 and died about 600 B.C., being
thus a contemp^faryoTjeremiah, and preceding by a century
or less Xenophanes, Buddha, Mahavira, Confucius, and Lao
Tse. He was born in Iran, among a people who had many
gods and many superstitions and whose religion bore but
slight relation to morality; and from the age of thirty he went
about preaching that there was but one God and that He was
preeminently a God of Righteousness. During twelve years of
constant missionary work in various parts of his land he made
but one convert. But he persisted in the delivery of his mes
sage until at last he had succeeded in converting one of the
small states of Iran. And he died at lasFunder the daggers of
the heathen, while worshiping at the altar of his God, a martyr
of the true faith.
In the "Catechism of the Zoroastrian Religion," which is
regarded as a semi-authoritative statement of the faith, three
doctrines are emphasized as the principal theological tenets. \
These are: (1) "the Existence of Mazda, the All- Wise Lord;
(2) the Immortality of the Soul, or the Life Hereafter; (3) our
Responsibility for our thoughts, words, and actions." Though ,
the nature and existence of God are supposed to have been
1 A Catechism of the Zoroastrian Religion (Bombay, Petit Printing Works,
191 1), p. 3-
8 See Appendix II, Jackson's Zoroaster (New York, Macmillan, 1901).
319

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
revealed to Zarathustra, the whole question is treated in the
manner of "Natural Religion," and the "Argument from Na
ture" is called in evidence much more than the original rev
elation. To Ahura Mazda are assigned the usual attributes of
omnipotence, omniscience, eternity, omnipresence, etc. He is
also ^regarde<Las the-Creator. And here we come upon a rather)
interesting point in Zoroastrian theology. The oldest of the
sacred books teach that in addition to Ahura Mazda there is
another powerful _sp_irit who seems to be co-eternal with Him
and who created all the^evijj things in the universe, as Ahura
Mazda created all the gooa ones, and that for thousands of \
years there has been a struggle between these two, a struggle
which still goes on andTnwhich we may play our part. To many
this has seemed the finest and most inspiring point in all the
Mazdayacnian religion. And a dramatic presentation of world
history it surely is, for it pictures Time as a long battle between
the Power of Light and the Power of Darkness in which the
whole universe is involved; it emphasizes the duty of each man
to choose in which army he will serve; it gives him confidence
in the : final victory of the^good; and throws around each little
effort that he may make, no matter how prosaic and insignifi
cant it seem, the awful glamour of a cosmic conflict. This con
ception also does away with the persistent problem of evil, and
spares the Most High all responsibility for sin, for the suffer
ing of the innocent, and for the defeat of the ideal — things all
too patent and too common in this wicked world.
But this frank/dualtsm/has seemed too "unphilosophical"
for many modern Parsees, and they reject the accusation of
being dualists with the usual repugnance which that word )
arouses in so many modern bosoms. It is interesting to see hoW(
they attempt to evade it. They tell us that when in the sacred
books the name Ahura Mazda is used as in opposition to the
Evil Spirit, it means not God, but a spirit created by Him to be
a secondary Creator of the good things of the Universe, and
who by an odd coincidence had the same name with the Most
High. Both this Creator of good and the Creator of evil, we are >
assured (though with little authority from the Avesta), are
"under" God, and God "works through " both. God, therefore,
is not opposed to evil, but is the ultimate and indirect Creator
320

THE PARSEES
of all things that are, whether we know them as good or bad.!
" He is, in fact, not unlike the inscrutable First Cause, whom we
may regard with awe and reverence, with love and hope, but
whom we cannot pretend to define or to understand. ... It is
evident that this simple and sublime religion is one to which, by
whatever name we may call it, the best modern thought is fast
approximating. Men of science like Huxley, philosophers like
Herbert Spencer, poets like Tennyson, might all subscribe to
it." r In short, Ahura Mazda, instead of being the Great God
of Righteousness, is repainted after the style of Shiva or even of
"Brahman without qualities," to whom "shadow and sunlight
are the same." It is pretty plain to what this emasculation
of the splendidly definite and moral conception of Zarathustra
is due. It is an attempt to make Zoroastrianism "ap
proximate" to "the best of modern thought." In these days
Herbert Spencer is a better name to conjure with than Zara-,
thustra, and a religion which would be up to date must surely
be "monistic." And so all the distinctive features of the theol
ogy of Zoroastrianism, with its unique advantages for a moral
view of the world, are given up.
Given up they are, however, only if one will be logically con
sistent. And with the usual splendid inconsistency of the re
ligious consciousness the Parsee divines who insist most strenu
ously upon Monism, persist in maintaining as emphatically as
any one all the moral advantages which only a dualism can
consistently claim. God is the Creator of evil as well as of 1
good, He is the Power behind all things, the unknowable First >
Cause, etc., and yet He is also emphatically the God of Right
eousness, the Foe of Evil, the Bringer of good things only, — i
in short, He retains, in spite of his promotion or abstraction
or evaporation into an "All-One," most of the positive and,
definite and one-sided qualities which Zarathustra so persist
ently preached. Of course this is like trying to eat one's cake"
and keep it too, but it is the expression of a laudable impulse.
And as a fact Zoroastrianism is for all the Parsees, except a
few sensitive philosophers, in effect as much a dualism as
1 Quoted with approbation from Mr. Samuel Lang by Mr. Jivanji Jam
shedji Modi, in his paper on The Religious System of the Parsees. (Bombay,
Education Society, 1903.) 321

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
(ever. Its monistic aspect is reserved for a few very abstract
discussions, and in fact is seldom brought out except when some
non-Parsee makes the monstrous accusation that Zoroas
trianism is dualistic. The rest of the time Ahura Mazda ceases
to be the indeterminate and unknowable God back of all phe
nomena, whom "Herbert Spencer might subscribe to," and
becomes the God of Righteousness and the Foe of Evil whom
Zarathustra preached and loved.
| In the opinion of the Parsees, in fact, the emphasis which
J their religion puts upon morality is its distinctive feature.
Duty is something which its sacred books, with all their for
malism, have never lost from sight — duty toward one's God,
one's neighbor, and one's self; in fact toward the whole crea
tion. In a particular way it has emphasized especially the\
duties of physical and mental purity, of health of body and
mind, of productiveness and of charity. The whole of the/
moral law is supposed to be summed up in the three words
that are on every Parsee's lips and early impressed on
his mind — humataJmkhta±M&rshta — "good thoughts^good
words, good deeds." The little Catechism to which I have
referred says in connection with these three keywords that
"it is these that lead us to salvation." "If you will always
keep your thoughts pure, that is, if you will think of nothing
but what is true and proper, and if after such true and good
thoughts you will speak nothing but the truth, and if after
speaking nothing but the truth you will do nothing but what
is good and righteous, then Ahura Mazda will reward you for
all that, and you will pass a happy life." l
i "It is these that lead us to salvation." Salvation consists
in part in the very life of duty, in part it is to be found in the
rewards of the next life. Zoroastrianism, like nearly all re
ligions, teaches a future life of rewards and punishments, but
these are to be gained not through the usual Indian process of
transmigration, but in a heaven jmdjiell in most respects like
those which Christianity has taught. As is the case with
Christianity, moreover, heaven and hell may be pictured in
more or Jess literaland local or : more or less symbolical fashion
according to the intellectual level of the particular Parsee.
1 Page 16.
322

ZARATHUSTRA — AN IDEALIZED PICTURE FOUND IN MOST PARSEE HOMES

\

THE PARSEES
Many think of them as definite places ; and on the other hand,
Mie of the great Parsee scholars with whom I had a long talk
believes that heaven and hell mean simply the continued life
and activity of the soul after the death of the body, — that we
shall go on developing in the direction of our deliberate choice,
some for the better, some for the worse. The Avesta word for
heaven is Vahishta-ahu, which passed into the Persian word,
Behesht, an exact equivalent of our English "best." Thus
heaven literally means " the best life." And my wise and saintly
old Parsee friend teaches the children that when they strive
from the Good toward the Best, they are already on their way
to Heaven.
Humata, hukhta, hvarshta — "good thoughts, good words,
good deeds, it is these that lead us to salvation." A significant
and a noble phrase. If salvation is to be taken in a truly moral
sense it must mean salvation from sin. He — and he only — ,
who has attained to good thoughts, good words, good deeds is
saved. And no one can do my good deeds for me nor think
my good thoughts for me — they must be my very own. For
righteousness is a matter of the will, and no one can will right
eousness forme, and in my place. And so the Zoroastrian Cate
chism asks, "Then according to the teaching of our religion
there is no savior for one other than himself?" And the an
swer is: "Of course not. Every man is his^ own savior. His'
deeds alone will bring out his salvation. A man is the archi
tect of his own fortune. He is his own savior." Zarathustra '
has an honored place, indeed. He is the great prophet who
first revealed from God to man the true religion; and as such
his picture is in most Parsee homes, and his name is enshrined
in all Parsee hearts. But in no further sense is he regarded
as a savior.
On hearing the changes so constantly rung upon "good
thoughts, good words, good deeds," one is tempted to say,
"This is allvery well; but is it not rather trite, or at least a bit
indefinite? What sort of deeds are 'good deeds'? " — And to
this the Sacred Books and the traditional teaching give an an
swer which, while it does not go very deep into the fundamental
questions of morality, does give some degree of practical guid
ance. Mingled with a great deal of the undeniably trite, one

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
finds in Zoroastrian teaching a characteristic point of view on
moral questions which leads to fairly practical results. That
> point of view is the utilitarian. The virtues which it teachesN
I are decidedly the virtues of this world and for the sake of this
| world. The result is a very practical and sensible system of
ethics which so far as it goes must win the assent, if not the
admiration, of all who study it.
It is because of this utilitarian ajm that Zoroastrianism lays )
such emphasis .upon purity. Zarathustra, or his early followers,
perceived the immense importance of personal purity, physi
cal and mental, for the health and strength of the individual
and for the power of the race. Hence the innumerable precau
tions — many of them puerile and imaginary, to be sure-
prescribed in the ancient books and continued in modern prac
tice against every kind of physical contagion. Almost equal tm
purity in the emphasis which it receives is charity, especially/
to the poorer members of the Parsee community. The Parsee?,
are by common consent easily the most charitable natives of i
India. All their own poor are so well taken care of by their
more fortunate brothers that there are no Parsee betryars. Be
sides a great deal of private giving, and many large cfiaritable
institutions of various sorts, such as hospitals, schools, etc.,
there exists among the Parsees an establishment for systematic
charity of a sort probably nowhere paralleled until a few years
ago it occurred to Mr. Rockefeller to found an institution of
"^the same sort. I refer to the ''Par^e,.EanchayatJl_ancLlts
charity fund. The Panchayat was formerly a council of elders
who had the general oversight and control of the Parsee com
munity. This council was long since dissoved, but the trustees
of its moneys have become a corporation for the distribution of
funds given for charitable purposes. Its capital is now between
four and five million rupees, and though the trustees give away
every year nearly one hundred thousand rupees, the fund is
always growing, because of the constant contributions to it by
Parsees rich and poor. It is the custom to mark great events
of life — joyful or sad — by making contributions to this fund.
Every Parsee widow or orphan who has no other means of
support, in fact every indigent member of the community, is
helped or altogether taken care of out of this fund, after the
324

THE PARSEES
trustees have first inquired into the case to see how far such
assistance is really needed. And not only individuals but char
itable institutions receive assistance from the Panchayat,
prominent among these latter being a temporary home for
wandering Parsees from abroad, and an asylum for the help
less — a sort of poor-house — whose inmates are free to do as
they like except that they must obey the one rule never to
beg of any one.
In characteristically utilitarian fashion, the Vendidad singles )
out three kinds of good deeds which are peculiarly meri- /
torious — namely, (i) to help the poor; (2) to help a man toll
marry and thus enable him to live a virtuous and honorable
life and bring honorable children into the world ; (3) to give edu
cation to those who are in search of it. And these aims remain
no dead letter with the Parsee community. Not only are they
the most charitable native people of India, but probably also'
the bestedugated. Illiteracy with them is at a minimum,1 and/
the higher education of women as well as of men is very com
mon. The stranger in Bombay is not there twenty-four hours
before he acquires the habit of looking about for a Parsee when
in need of information. The great majority of them whom one
meets in the streets can speak English, and the evidence of
intelligence and education which one sees in their faces and in
their bearing easily marks them out from all but the exceptional
Hindus and Moslems in the city.
And thejrcp_urtesy is as marked as their, intelligence. Their
sacred books, in fact, urge upon them to extend their kindness
even to the animal kingdom and to the insentient earth. This
is, however, due to no sentimentality, but to the combination
of genuine humanity with a very canny eye to the main chance ;
— as will be seen in the following extract from the Catechism : —
"Q. In the Creation round about us, who draws our atten
tion next to our fellow-men?
"A. All animals and living creatures. We should treat all
animals with kindness.
"Q. What about noxious creatures or harmful animals?
1 As has been pointed out on a previous page, their percentage of illit
eracy is considerably lower than that of the Christians or of any other
religious community in India. 325

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
"A. As for the animals or beasts of prey which harass men
and harmless beasts of burden, such a state of existence should
be produced for them as would not permit of their doing harm.
" Q. How should we act towards the beasts of burden and
other animals serviceable to mankind?
"A. We should treat them with kindness. We should give
them their proper food and nourishment. We must exact from
them as much work only as lies in their power to do. We should
not treat them cruelly for the sake of our bread and should not
exact from them work beyond their capacity. When we do not
treat them properly, they, as it were, curse us. On the other
hand, if we treat them well, they bless us. . . .
"Q. What is meant by saying that Ahura Mazda expects
us to promote the growth and development of His creation?
"A. The Creator of the Universe expects from us that we
may so bring about the further growth of His creation as would
bring about a better enjoyment of the creation and as would
make the world more and more prosperous.
"Q. Will you give an instance?
; "A. Yes. For instance, a man promotes the work of growth
[and development when he brings about the growth of two
^ blades of corn where formerly grew only one. In this way he
pleases Ahura-Mazda. Though he may have enough for him
self, he must increase the growth of corn so that others can buy
it cheaply and readily." 1
A religion like this should surely win the plaudits of an age
which reads history and morality and everything else from the
economic point of view; and if the Parsees admitted proselytes,
we might expect to see Professor Carver and his fellows who
value religion by its economic fruits trooping over to Zoroas
trianism as "the religion worth having." The result of this
utilitarian tendency is evident among the Parsees as a com-
i munity. Success in business looms very large in their eyes, and\
they bear the usual marks, good and bad, of a pronounced com- I
mercialism. " If it may be said that Americans are all after the '
mighty dollar," writes Mr. W. B. Stover, "it may yet more
truthfully be said that the Parsees are all after the silver rupee.
Between Bombay and Ahmedabad, and on out toward Wad-
1 Pages 29-31.
326

THE PARSEES
wan, nearly all the saloon-keepers in towns, villages, and coun
try places, are Parsees — because it pays. There is money in
it. The man with money is the most respected. However,
there are not a few noble exceptions to the above." * And I
should here repeat what I have already said, that the Parsee is
very generous with his money. He is a shrewd business man,|
but he is very seldom stingy.
The Parsee morality and religion is, in short, very sane/*-
practical, and utilitarian. It belongs to what the German phi
losophers call the "Verstand" with very little of the "Ver-
nunft " about it. After watching the professional beggars and
self-tormentors of Benares, one comes upon the eminently sane
Parsee with a sense of relief. But the endless repetition of this
perfect sanity which one finds in the Parsee community, with
so little to break the spiritual commonplace, becomes itself
at last rather monotonous; and one almost longs for a ragged
sannyasi again, who has dared to turn his back upon bread and
butter, and, going out under the stars with staff and bowl, to
risk his all in the great adventure of faith. Zoroastrianism is)
much too sane for this sort of thing. It despises asceticism, norf
has it any place for mysticism. It has no great enthusiasms!
which disdain to count the cost, no missions and no self-con-\
sciousness of a mission, no irrational vistas and visions, and!
little poetry. There is no nonsense about it. It is prosaically '
sane and decidedly of this earth. But it must not be forgotten
that prose has certain solid advantages and that sanity on the
whole is quite as important as dreaming. And the moral quali
ties of the Parsee community, emanating as they do directly
from the teaching of its religion, have a solidity and bulk that
no one can either be blind to or deny. We must not expect all
conceivable virtues to be combined in anything of this world ;
and whether it appeals to our individual taste or not, there is
no denying that the faith and teachings of Zarathustra form ,
a very noble religion.
There is, however, one unfortunate feature in the actual
practice of the faith of the Parsees which deserves especial
notice if we are to form a true estimate of it, not as a theory but
as a religion. For the whole of a religion is not to be found in
1 India; A Problem, p. 54.
327

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
any set of books, no matter how sacred or authoritative they
be, but in the lives of the people. The unfortunate feature I
have in mind is the surprising ignorance of the bulk of JheJPar-
sees as to their own religion. The Parsees as a whole are a well-
educated people, as education goes in India; but their eriur^
tiqn Js^ almost altogether secular and utilitarian and practical
even in the home, ancTIs intended to prepare the child to get
on well in this world, and to furnish him with just enough of
the external rites and ceremonies to pass him on into the next.
His religious education is mostly of the objective sort and is
apparently regarded as a sort of other-worldly life insurance.
Up till quite recently almost no systematic effort was made to
spread throughout the community, or to communicate to the
rising generation, any intelligent attitude toward the truths
and doctrines which were for Zarathustra the essential thing.
A superficial formalism and externalism has been the bane of |
Zoroastrianism almost ever since the death of its founder. The/
sacred shirt and the sacred thread must be put on properly
every morning, and taken off and put on again several times
each day with the recitation of the proper formula; no beefor
pork_musi-ever-be*aten; the sacred fire must be properly pro
duced, fed, and protected; the priest must perform the proper
ceremonies with the haoma plant and the urine of the bull; and
all good Parsees must at last be properly devoured by vultures
in the Towers of Silence ; but the truths about God and morality
need be known only in their most meager outlines. A practical^
and hard-headed race, they regard prayer and other rites quite
objectively as things that must be done, and the rules of religion/
as laws which must be obeyed. To many of them it has never
occurred that the spirit in which the prayer is said or the law
obeyed is of any importance.
These ceremonies, so scrupulously observed, are, to be sure,
not merely arbitrary external acts, but have always some more
or less remote utilitarian purpose or some symbolic significance.
In fact the Parsees, like other Orientals, carry symbolism to a
point which to us Westerners often seems wearisome if not
incredible. Thus the kusti, or sacred thread, which the Parsee
must wear upon his body at all hours of the day and night, is
made up of seventy-two strands, put together in six bundles of
328

THE PARSEES
twelve each; and each of these strands and bundles, together
with the spaces between them, is symbolic of something or
other, from the seventy-two chapters of the Yasna to the
space between heaven and earth. The kusti symbolizes all
these things; hut only the learned-few know it. For the rank
and- file it is sufficient to wear the kusti continually and to
untie and retie it at certain stated times.
As said above, neither in the symbolism nor in the weightier
matters of the Law has there been till very recently any sys
tematic effort at instruction for the old or young. The Parsees
have no weekly holy day, as have the Christians, Jews, and
Mohammedans, no meeting for religious instruction, nothing
corresponding to our preaching services or Sunday-School.
On certain special days — perhaps six or seven times a year —
a sermon will be given in one of the Fire Temples, but these
occasions are of too rare occurrence and too disconnected to
have any appreciable influence. The Fire Temgles^^ indeed,
are always open to the Parsee (and to him alone), and at any
time he may enter and find the priests officiating before the
sacred flame, the most marvelous of all the symbols of God.
But as there is no special time for him to go, and as he will
probably find few others there when he arrives, he goes but
Seldom. Some go as often as once a month, some but once a
year7~And indeed there seems to be little enough to bring them
there. To see a priest bowing before the sacred fire is prob
ably no very inspiring sight; and one can pray quite as well at
home or out of doors.
For the priests as a class enjoy no great respect from their .
co-religionists. In fact most of them are looked down upon
as a lazy, ignorant, and greedy lot, — and I am here using
words employed by Parsee acquaintances of mine. The ma
jority of them are unable to understand the meaning of the")
ancient sacred texts which they read and recite; and divine /
truth seems to play a much less important r&le in their thoughts
than the possible size of the forthcoming fee. And in morals
they are certainly not superior to others. One Parsee whom
I met expressed his opinion of them by saying he would take
a priest's word perhaps as readily as a carpenter's, but not
more so. Moreover, it seems questionable whether they are
329

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
improving noticeably in education and worth, or whether they
are even keeping pace in these things with the rest of the com
munity. The reason for this state of things is, in my infor
mant's opinion, to be traced largely to economic causes. The
priest is assured oT aTiving -^ he wifirnot starve: but his living
will be a very poor one and he_canrise financially onlya little
way. The amount he can earn as a priest, which is entirely
made up of fees and presents, is quite limited, while the Parsee
layman — merchants and professional men — form the rich
est class in rich Bombay; and there are no sumptuary laws
among the Parsees to prevent the lavish display of wealth be
fore the faces of the poor. Moreover, the Parsee priest is not
allowed to go into any business or be anything but a priest*
He may not turn an honest anna by any extra labor or little
venture of his own. His wife, indeed, helps out somewhat by
making sacred threads, the manufacture of which is a monop
oly belonging to the wives of priests. But there is no other
way by which the priest's sorry little income may be increased.
Now, while the Parsee priesthood is an hereditary office in the
sense that only the sons of priests may enter it, there is no law
forcing the son of a priest to follow in his father's profession
unless he so chooses. Hence the more able and ambitious of
the priest's sons, seeing what their father's life is like, go into,
some other profession or into business, where the great rewards
of life, as measured in rupees and annas, are to be won, and
only the indolent sons as a rule care to enter the priesthood.
Naturally these indolent persons find much study a weariness
unto the flesh, and hence only a few learn Zend and are capable
of understanding the scriptures which they read. For the Par-
see priest is not required to understand what he reads; the only
requirement is that he should be able to make the right sounds
at the right time. And as a fact the great majority of the
priests are almost as ignorant of their sacred literature and of the
meaning of the prayers which they recite as are the laity.
And this is saying a good deal. For though every Parsee,
layman as well as cleric, learns in childhood and recites daily
a number of prayers, these prayers he learns and recites in a
transliteration (not a translation) of the original Zend. Trans
lations of them, indeed, exist, but it is the exceptional Parsee
330

THE PARSEES
who takes the trouble to look them up or to teach his children
the meaning of the strange syllables in a tongue long dead
which he requires them to commit to memory. Probably
ninety per cent of the laity, in the opinion of one of my Parsee
informants, are in this condition of ignorance as to the prayers
which they offer, — they know how to make the sounds but
nothing more.
"Some of the Parsee Theosophists (for the T. S. has Parsee
as well as Hindu members) justify this repetition of meaning
less syllables, as might be expected, on the ground that the
Zend verses have a virtue of their own and are productive of
"vibrations" in the ether, which have a powerful effect upon
the nature spirits.1 Not many of the Parsees, however, are
acquainted with this "scientific" explanation, and manage
to get on without any. The more intelligent, of course, regret
and deplore this ignorant and superstitious kind of worship as
much as any one could. One Parsee gentleman, in speaking
of it, told me that he had never attended a Christian service
until, in crossing the Atlantic, he found himself in a Sunday
service in the cabin. "I was very much struck," he said, "by
the prayers and the reading from the Bible. They were all in
English. It made a great effect upon me, appealing to both my
mind and my heart. It roused in me a longing for God such as
I had never felt in any Parsee temple. And I would five times
rather hear the Bible read like that than any of my own sacred
books in their unknown language."
Some of the more advanced Parsees like my friend are in
favor of having their sacred books translated and used in the
vernacular in temple and home. They feel that if this could
only be done it would work a religious revival in the com
munity. For my own part I fear this would bring only added
1 This I was told by a Parsee Theosophist acquaintance. The Theoso
phist Parsees also "preach to the less educated classes of people that there
is high efficacy in offering flowers and milk and cocoanuts to the waters; they
preach to the people, as an act of special religious merit, to fall prostrate
before and kiss imaginary pictures of their prophet; they exhort people to
make a show of penitence by a vigorous slapping of cheeks. They represent
to the people that the sole efficacy of their prayers consists in the material
form resultant upon the physical vibrations created by their utterances."
(Quoted in Farquhar's Modern Religious Movements from the Journal of the
Iranian Association, for March, 1913.) 331

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
disappointment. The Parsees who have never read a translation
of their sacred books naturally suppose that, being inspired,
they form a very wonderful literature full of divine truth. As
/a matter of fact, aside from a few memorable passages, they>
form a most prosaic and "uninspired " mass of reading. A very
large part of them is given up to matters of ceremonial purity and >
impurity (which, indeed, sometimes have their practical bear
ing on health) ; another large part to some very primitive myths;
while the passages that deal with moral questions are mosdy
devoted to commonplaces and redundancies which leave one
no wiser than he was before. "Virtue is the path of God; vice
that of the devil. Good thoughts, good words, good deeds con
stitute virtue; evil thoughts, evil words, evil deeds constitute
vice. Honesty, charity, and truthfulness constitute the former;
dishonesty, want of charity, and falsehood constitute the lat
ter." This is a sample of the finest sort of thing to be found in
the Parsee sacred books. And doubtless what it says is all true
and fine; but what has it either of- instruction or of inspiration
for a man in the twentieth century? How can an injejhgent I
Parsee read- it without feeling its tritenesTeven more than its
truth? And when one turns from this to the interminable dis- '
cussions of ritualistic cleanliness and purification which fill the
Vendidad,1 one feels that the Parsees have suffered no great /
loss in having no adequate and popular translation of their I
sacred books. Doubtless their sacred literature was wellj
enough adapted to the times in which it was written. But the^
world has grown beyond it — the Parsees along with the rest
of the world; and it has no real message for them to-day except
the one fundamental truth that God is Good — a message which
in the modern worship of Monism is only too far from being
trite or unnecessary.
Perhaps the most important function of the sacred books of
the Parsees is to bind them to the past and to preserve for their
religion the enormous force which comes from a conscious tra
dition. And this is a function the value of which it would be
hard to overemphasize. It is this emotional force of tradition
as much as anything else that marks the difference between
1 For a translation (by West) see the 5. B. E., vol. in (American ed., New
York, Christian Lit. Co., 1898.) 332

THE PARSEES
a religion and a philosophy, and enables the least spiritual
individual members to draw upon the collective and cumu
lative spirituality of the community stored up through centu
ries of religious experience. And the same great function is
performed by the public cult of whatever form. It is easy for
us Protestant-minded Americans to minimize the importance
of cult, and in fact it is often difficult for us to realize its value
both as a link with the past and as an expression of the com
munal religious life. Most of us need to learn greater respect
for worship and tradition wherever they are met with. It is
in this light that we should view the religious customs of the
Parsees, foremost among which is their ancient Fire Ceremony.
The Parsees are sometimes spoken of as "fire-worshipers."
This, of course, is an ignorant calumny. Parsees are no more
fire worshipers than Christians are bread and wine worshipers.
Every religion has felt the need of some external act which all
could perform or could see performed as an expression of the
common faith or purpose or emotion. And Zoroastrianism,
as far back as the days of its great founder, chose as its chief
symbolic act the public and perpetual reverence for that most
brilliant and mysterious element of God's creation, Fire. "We
look to fire," says the Parsee Catechism, "with reverential
feelings as the manifested form of the power of heat and light |
permeating this world, and also as the symbol of the splendor ¦
and glory of the Creator. Then, in the case of the sacred fire
of the fire temples, the religious ritual in its consecration adds
some elements of moral thoughts." What these moral thoughts
may be in the case of the more intelligent and spiritual mem
bers of the community who look behind the external act to its
symbolic meaning, is suggested by the following passage from
Mr. Modi's "Religious System of the Parsees": —
"When a Parsee goes before the sacred fire, which is kept all
day and all night burning in the fire temple, the officiating
priest presents him the ashes of a part of the consumed fire.
The Parsee applies it to his forehead just as a Christian applies
the consecrated water in his Church, and thinks to himself:
' Dust to dust. The fire, all brilliant and shining and resplen
dent, has spread the fragrance of the sweet-smelling sandal
wood and frankincense roundabout, but is at last reduced to
333

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
dust. So it is destined for me. After all, I am to be reduced to
dust and have to depart from this transient life. Let me do
my best to spread, like this fire, before my death, the fragrance
of charity and good deeds and lead the life of righteousness and
knowledge before others."
For I would not leave the impression that the Parsees
merely perform external ceremonies with no understanding of
their meaning and no religious sentiment in the performance.
There are many, many intelligent men and women among
them by whom the value of external rites is understood as well
as it is by intelligent Christians. And even among the most
ignorant members of the community, the religious customs so
loyally adhered to probably have in many cases some very real
spiritual and moral effect. The man who pauses five times a
day to turn his thoughts toward God and to reaffirm to him
self the value and importance of "good thoughts, good words,
good deeds," even though at the same time he recite a list of
meaningless syllables, can hardly fail to find his life in some
wise influenced by the practice. And of course even the most
ignorant Parsees, though quite unable to translate or para
phrase the prayers which they recite, do know in a dumb sort
of way what they are about; and sometimes, though by no
means always, they doubtless accompany the words they say
with a really prayerful state of mind. What prayer means to
the more intelligent may be gathered from the following quo-
tation: "All Parsee prayers begin with a resolve to do acts '
that will please Almighty God. The resolve is followed by an
expression of regret for past evil thoughts, words, or deeds. A
Parsee in beginning his prayers repents his errors and says,
'O Omniscient Lord, I repent of all my sins; I repent of all
evil thoughts that I may have entertained in my mind, of all
the evil words that I may have spoken, of all the evil actions
that I may have committed; O Omniscient Lord, I repent of all
the faults that may have originated with me, whether they
refer to thoughts, words, or deeds, whether they appertain to
my body or my soul, whether they be in connection with the
material or with the spiritual world.' " l
I said above that no one could see the Parsees at prayer and
1 J. J. Modi, op. cit., p. 33.
334

THE PARSEES
not feel that there was a good deal of real devotion mingled
with their formalism. And whoever wills may judge for him
self by going any evening in the year to the western water
front of Bombay. The Parsee may pray anywhere, but hel
prays best in the presence of some form of fire, the supreme
symbol to him of the Eternal God. And especially when the'
sun sets over the sea the Parsee feels impelled to turn his face
toward the great luminary and his heart toward its great Crea
tor. And so every evening, an hour or more before sunset,
they begin to gather on the beach in Bombay, facing the set
ting sun, and from that time till dusk there is a continual pro- ,
cession of them, going and coming, all silent and quite informal, '
worshiping together and yet each alone. On feast days there
are thousands lining the shore, and every day the number
mounts up into the hundreds. Some stay but five or ten min
utes, some half an hour or more. Each one first dips his hands
into the sea, if the tide be full, — or if at ebb tide, then into
some little pool of salt water, — and touches his forehead with
it. After this ceremonial washing he takes his stand facing the
west, unties his sacred thread, snaps it out to full length, and
usually touches his forehead with it or fingers it as if it were a
rosary. Then he replaces it, tying it properly about him, and
recites the proper prayers in the Zend language. This much
all do, and the less devout, having done this, return homeward,
or stay and gossip with their friends. But the more devout —
and these are many — continue their prayers beyond this
minimum, either reading additional prayers from a prayer-book
(in transliteration) or making spontaneous prayers of their own
— or probably both. One old gentleman whom I have seen
more than once on the Bombay beach seemed to combine in a
striking way (for I watched him closely) both the formalism
and the spirituality of his religion — a combination which is
often so genuine in the East, and which an Anglo-Saxon Prot
estant often finds it so difficult to understand or even respect.
After going through, most scrupulously, all the forms just de
scribed, this man stood for perhaps fifteen minutes, with head
thrown back, gazing at the yellow glow of the evening sun—
a glow that comes in the tropics only some time after the sun
has disappeared. His lips did not move and he did not seem
335

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
to be reciting any prayer, but his face had an expression of d<
votion and exaltation such as one sees in old Italian painting
of the saints. Sometimes he put his hands together in the com
mon Christian attitude for prayer (an attitude common to a
Orientals), but generally he was quite still, except for a sligh
involuntary swaying of the body. At the end of his prayer -
or meditation — he bowed down three times to the west, the
to the south, to the east, to the north, and again to the wesl
touching his head to the ground in each case. Then going to :
pool of salt water he dipped his hands in it, as at the beginnin]
of his prayer, and touched his forehead. This he did five times
turning completely around each time. Finally, he took out ai
envelope filled with small flowers, emptied it into the littli
pool, and turned homeward through the dusk.
There is something about this daily out-of-door prayer
meeting of the Parsees — silent, informal, collective yet indi
vidual — which is very nearly unique. The dome of the eter
nal heavens is the cathedral, the setting sun acts as altar, anc
the golden orange of the tropical evening sky, bending ove:
the endless reaches of the Indian Ocean, lends a framework o
suggestiveness which can hardly fail of its influence on eithe
Parsee or Christian.
The combination of individualism and communal life exhib
ited in this prayer-meeting is typical of the whole Zoroastriai
religion. As each Parsee says his prayers by and for himself
with no officiating priest for him to follow, so in his faith ant
life he is responsible to God alone and not answerable for hi
| views to any ecclesiastical authority. The Parsees have n<
i heresy trials. Yet, on the other hand, their social consciousnes
is exceedingly strong, and they prize their racial unity and sep
ateness so highly that it has resulted in the erection of a wal
between them and all others which none are allowed to scale
This is one of the most striking things about the Parsees. Per
/suaded as they are that theirs is the best religion in the world
they not only do nothing to spread it, sharing none of th
proselyting zeal so notable in Christians and Mohammedans
: but they simply will not permit of any proselyting on th
| part of any of their number. No one born out of the Parse
fold can ever be allowed to enter it, no matter how firmly h
336

THE PARSEES
believes in Zarathustra and all his teachings, no matter how
ardently he longs to worship before the sacred fire, noimatter
how conscientiously he practices humata, hukhta, hvarshta.
The sudrah and kusti — the sacred shirt and thread — are not
for him: he can never be admitted within the fire temples, and
when he dies he cannot be granted the privilege of having his
flesh devoured by vultures and his bones reduced to dust in
the well of the Tower of Silence. A notable instance of this
exclusiveness occurred not long ago when a very wealthy and
influential Parsee, who resided part of the year in Paris, con
verted his French wife to the Zoroastrian faith, invested her
with the sacred thread and shirt, and applied for her recogni
tion as a Parsee and her admission into the Fire Temple at
Bombay. The question became an issue for the whole Parsee
community, and was finally tried (odd as it may seem to us
Westerners) before the Government court of justice. The
court decided that there was no precedent of a non-Parsee be
coming one through conversion or marriage, and that therefore
the lady in question had no right to be admitted to the fire
temples or to consider herself a Parsee. Proselytism, in short,
is simply impossible.
The ground taken by the conservatives in this matter is that
the whole question should be regarded as social rather than
religious. If the Parsees should let down the bars and admit)
Outsiders, the French wives admitted would form a very small
proportion of the proselytes. Neither would there be many
Brahmins nor other desirable members of the Indian com
munity among those found knocking at their gates. The over-\
whelming majority of those admitted would be low-caste Hin-|
dus. And these would greatly lower the standard of the Parsee?
community and destroy its individuality. The Parsees are a)
very successful and ambitious people, and notably proud of
their success, and they have no taste for the highways and
hedges. They want none of their number to be poor and lowly;
and they prefer that the poor and lowly should not be of their ,
number. Moreover, it must be remembered that they occupy a
very anomalous position. Their great founder gave his entire
life to the work of proselytism, and so long as they had a land
of their own they were not averse to making converts: but
337

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
since their migration to India they have been but a handful in
the midst of the heathen (as they regard their idolatrous neigh
bors), and it is only since then that they have adopted this
seemingly strange rule against spreading their religion. And
indeed it is easy to see what would, in all probability, have
been the result had they not drawn the line very strictly around
their little community on entering the land. They would have^
been simply absorbed into the great, amorphous body of Hin
duism which surrounds them on every side, and which has/
sucked out from so many independent movements all that
( was distinctive in them. So the Parsee community would have\
become merely one of the innumerable Hindu castes or sects,/
and Zarathustra would simply have been added, as one more
god, to the thirty-three million deities that the Indians have
already.  — — — >
It is encouraging to note that this determination of long
standing to keep pure the blood is being paralleled to-day by a
new and growing desire to disseminate a deeper knowledge of
the religion which is their bond of union and their great dis
tinction. As I have shown above, there always has been and
there is still far too little effort made to teach the children
more than the merest outlines of the religion. And all the more
intelligent Parsees have come to recognize with regret both
this lack of religious education, the accretion of various Hindu
superstitions and undesirable customs, and in general the
degenerate condition into which their religion has been lapsing
for many centuries. As long ago as 1851 a Religious Reform
Association was founded whose aim was "the regeneration of
the social condition of the Parsees and the restoration of the
Zoroastrian religion to its pristine purity." Ten years later a
movement was set on foot for the advancement of Avesta
scholarship and the higher education of Parsee priests. These
movements and others like them have had some influence, and
a yearly conference is now held to discuss various questions of
religious, social, and educational reform.1 About ten years ago
a systematic effort at religious education was begun. A com
mission was appointed to prepare five books for religious in-
1 For the facts just cited I am indebted to Farquhar's Modern Religions
Movements (see pp. 84-89, and also 345).
338

THE PARSEES
struction in the vernacular. These books were soon completed
and authorized, one of them being the Catechism from the
English edition of which I have so often quoted. These books
are now used by many parents in the instruction of their chil
dren, and in most Parsee schools a special hour is given up to
their study.
In the face of these various reform movements the conserv
atives, of course, have not been idle. Like the conservative
Hindus, they have identified everything old with the national
and community cause, and under the leadership of their The
osophist members have resisted with considerable success the
advance of the reformers. In spite of their efforts, however,
modern ideas are gradually permeating the community, and
the change from the old to the new is going on rapidly enough
to keep the religion in touch with life, and slowly enough to
insure the necessary continuity with the past. The more edu
cated and liberal Parsees see in the old forms and ceremonies
only customs which in past time were useful, but most of which
must undergo gradual modification or be outgrown altogether.
The great fundamental beliefs, such as the theistic doctrine
and the hope of the endless life, they regard as having eternal
value, and a few of the ancient forms, such as that of revering
God through His element of fire as a symbol, will, in their opin
ion, always be found useful for the Parsee community and will
never be outgrown. The more irrational customs and the
more materialistic beliefs will be outgrown. But the wiser
liberals can wait with patience for their departure, knowing
that everything cannot happen at once, and that all healthy
change in an organism like religion must be a process of growth,
not of revolution.

CHAPTER XVI
THE BUDDHISTS OF BURMA AND CEYLON
FROM the far northwest on the borders of Afghanistan,
to Orissa and Madras in the east and south, India is cov
ered with caves, rock-cut temples, columns, statues, carvings
that come from a religion now long since perished from the
land. It is over a thousand years since Buddhism died out of
the country of its birth. The museum for it has been substi
tuted for the temple, and the archeologist and Pali scholar
have taken the place of the yellow-robed monk and the devout
lay follower of the Blessed One. Yet so great an impression
has the Buddha made upon his land and upon the minds of all
students of Indian religion that the spell of his personality
still hangs over those regions where he lived and taught, and
most of us can visit only with a very deep and genuine rever
ence those few well-authenticated spots where we know his
"lotus feet" once trod. Most sacred, and at the same time
most well authenticated and most beautiful, of all these spots
is Buddh Gaya. Its great temple, to be sure, has been rebuilt
and considerably changed since ancient times by the Nepalese,
and the place as a whole is in the hands of the Hindus. Yet
with native reverence for all that others revere, its guardians
both respect and honor the temple; and it is surrounded by a
garden in which all manner of fresh flowers clamber over all
manner of half-ruined statues and ancient stupas, so that the
whole forms a combination of loving care and picturesque de
cay unsurpassed in loveliness and beauty by anything in India.
And over the whole place rests the spirit of the Teacher; so
that I for one was not ashamed to follow the little band of
Nepalese and Thibetan pilgrims in their circumambulation of
the great tower and to pause and do a little puja of my own
under the Bo tree which marks the spot where illumination
came to him who was to be the "Light of Asia."
In fact I am sure that if the Buddha could have returned
and watched us that morning, he would have preferred my
340

THE BUDDHISTS OF BURMA AND CEYLON
homage to that of the Himalayan pilgrims who bore his name.
He who came to destroy belief in the efficacy of outer forms
could have marked only with deep disappointment and sorrow
the fastening of gold leaf upon the temple's stones in his name,
the mumbling of mystic texts and the swinging of prayer
wheels, which were the principal occupations of these pilgrims.
And if he could have followed them back to their mountain
homes he would probably have exclaimed that the time was
ripe for a new Buddha to appear on earth, for scarcely a token
of his teaching would he have found.
It was not my good fortune to follow these pilgrims any far
ther toward their Thibetan homes than Darjeeling; but in and
around Darjeeling one can get a very good idea of Thibetan
and Nepalese Buddhism. Halfway down the slope between
Darjeeling and the valley on the east is a Buddhist temple
of the Thibetan type. On the outer wall, on each side of the
entrance, is a line of five or six "prayer wheels " or prayer cyl
inders, each about two feet high and covered with sacred texts.
The recitation of these texts or mantras is supposed to keep
off the evil spirits which abound wherever the Lamaistic type
of Buddhism is known, and the spinning of one of these cylin
ders produces the same miraculous result. One can set all twelve
revolving at once — and the effect on the spirit world is pre
sumably considerable. In the porch of the temple is another
prayer wheel, much larger and apparently much more impor
tant and official than those without. It is six feet high and
bears several rows of inscribed texts. The axis of the cylinder
is continued by an iron rod on which it rests, and this before
reaching the floor is bent outward and then back in such a
fashion that by pulling a rope attached to the bend the cylinder
can be easily revolved. On the top of the cylinder is an iron
projection so placed that in each revolution it will hit against
two bells suspended from the ceiling directly above the cylin
der. When we entered the temple — and in fact throughout
our visit — a boy, seated on the floor in front of the cylinder,
was occupied pulling the rope and thus revolving the wheel.
Apparently he was praying for the whole community — and
by the hour. Thus do the Northern Buddhists "pray without
ceasing." 34i

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
At the farther end of the inner room of the temple were three
seated Buddhas, with a row of various kinds of offerings before
them. The central one of these images represented "the great
Buddha" — which is not Gautama but Gautama's heavenly
essence, of which the historical Gautama was only an ap
pearance. Gautama himself was represented by the humbler
figure on the left; while to the right was Gautama's reflex or
Bodhisattva. For Himalayan Buddhism has not only made the
Buddha into a god; it has been unsatisfied with this and has
invented some twenty-eight Buddhas, made each of these into
a Trinity, and deified all the members of each. Quite consist
ently it has also transformed its monks into priests and en
dowed them with all manner of powers, and in place of simple
contemplation of the Blessed One and his Doctrine, it has in
vented magical mantras by means of which one may avoid
the hordes of dangerous devils to which reference has already
been made. One may use these formulae in various ways —
repeat them, write them out on a prayer wheel and revolve it,
wear them in a little case and carry it suspended round the
neck, swallow them, or reflect them in a mirror, wash the mir
ror, and drink the water it was washed in,1 etc., etc. The fa
vorite of these charms is the famous "Om! mani padmi, hum!"
— which means (so far as it means anything) "Om! the Jewel
of the Lotus Flower! Hum!" In all the region round Darjeel
ing one meets women and men wandering through village
streets or along country roads, fingering their rosaries of one
hundred and eight beads and murmuring, "Om meni pemi
hum!" Little hand prayer wheels are almost as common as
rosaries — brass cylinders containing texts and revolved on a
stick. I watched carefully two women in the streets of Dar
jeeling, one of whom was revolving a prayer wheel of this de
scription. Much of the time she was talking eagerly with her
1 Methods of this sort are not confined to Thibet. In southern and cen
tral Italy, including Rome, pictures of the Virgin printed on very thin tissue
paper may be procured, which are useful in curing headaches and other
slight ailments. The method of application is quite Thibetan: the paper is
soaked in a glass of water till it has in part gone to pieces, and then the
water with the fragments of paper is swallowed. The use of these miraculous
papers is not confined to the lower classes, but is to be met with in some of
the best families. 342

THE BUDDHISTS OF BURMA AND CEYLON
companion and when not talking she was looking into the
shops that they passed; but all the time she kept the wheel
going. Occasionally they would enter some shop and inquire
prices and haggle over bargains with the shopkeeper; but the
wheel never stopped. Finally, having completed her morning
devotions, she handed the wheel to her friend, who then took
her turn at it. I could see no sign of what we should call real
prayer or devotion in either of them or in any of the Himalayan
Buddhists whom I met. Buddhism to them (so far as I could
judge on a very superficial acquaintance) seemed to be merely
a way of acquiring supernatural "merit" by external mechani
cal devices.
Far different is the impression which one gets on his first
superficial acquaintance with Burmese and Ceylonese Bud
dhism. And the contrast between it and the lower forms of Hin
duism is quite as marked. When the traveler turns his back
upon India and steams up the Rangoon River, he finds great
forests and green fields about him instead of the parched and
dusty plains to which he has become accustomed; and when he
lands and begins to watch the Burmese people at their devo
tions he feels that spiritually as well as physically he is in a
new land and is ^breathing a new atmosphere. In place of the
closed temple with its mysterious inner shrine, its lingam and
Ganesh, its continual wash of dirty water, and its fat priest
keeping out all but Hindus and extorting unwilling money
from poor pilgrims, — instead of this one finds the white or
golden pagoda, open on all sides to the sky, accessible to
every one (with or without shoes), and guarded by no priest;
and instead of the lingam or the hideous Hanuman, the digni
fied image of the calm Buddha. I think that travel has few
experiences to give in any part of the world more striking and
memorable than one's first impression of the Shway Dagon
Pagoda in Rangoon. The pagoda stands upon a lofty artificial
mound, and mound and pagoda together are as high as St.
Paul's in London. There are approaches to the pagoda at each
of the four points of the compass, — long and gentle stairways
climbing by an easy ascent from the foot to the top of the
mound, between continuous lines of booths where good-natured
Burmese and pretty Burmese girls, in silks of many a hue and
343

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
all smoking long cheroots, stand waiting to sell you candles
or gongs or incense or paper flags or flowers of varied kinds
and colors for your use in paying homage to the memory of
the Master to whose glory the pagoda was erected. When you
emerge from this sacred bazaar at the top of the steps, you find
yourself on a platform in the midst of which rises the great
pagoda, quite covered with gold leaf and gleaming in the sun,
and surrounded by a forest of smaller pagodas and shrines of
varied forms, each containing a statue of the Buddha and a
profusion of tropical flowers, while palm trees wave their
stately branches overhead against the blue Burmese sky, and
thousands of little tinkly bells that circle the pagoda tops
quiver in endless chorus as the soft breeze touches them with
its unfailing caress. In every corner of the great platform and
before each shrine are worshipers — here one or two, there a
family or a little group — kneeling in prayer and presenting
offerings of flowers and of lighted candles before some image
of the founder of their faith. No priests, no supervision, no
fees, no concerted and systematized worship. Here, you feel,
is the religion of the individual. And though you may miss the
communion of saints and the congregational singing, you can
hardly go away from the pagoda without recognizing that you
have been in an unmistakably religious atmosphere.
What is true of the Shway Dagon will hold for thousands of
pagodas small and large in various parts of Burma, — for the
great Shway Maw Daw at Pegu, the sacred Arackan Pagoda
at Mandalay, the Shway San Daw at Prome (most beautiful
of all Burmese buildings), and for many a small pagoda quite
unknown to fame on the upper reaches of the Irrawaddy. Every
where the same unmistakable reverence to the memory of the
Buddha, the same direct, individual expression of devotion
with no mediating priest, the same obvious gain of courage and
poise and peace as a result of the prayer.
When one first visits a Burmese pagoda — especially if he
has been reading Fielding Hall — he is likely to see only the
beauty of the worship and to come away with unmixed adrnira-
tion for the Burmese and their religion. A better acquaintance
with their worship, however, will make one more critical.
There is a great deal of externalism in their religion. I do not
344

THE BUDDHISTS OF BURMA AND CEYLON
agree with the missionary who told me it was all external; but
it is quite possible that if I knew as much about the matter as
she does I might agree with her. But though I believe that
there is more than mere externalism in the worship of the Bur
mese, there can be no doubt that a large part of it is merely
that. Many Buddhists themselves have told me this. The
"prayers" said at the pagodas are mostly formulae learned by
heart, some in Burmese, some in Pali, and the Pali ones are
often quite meaningless to the worshiper. Moreover, the men
tal attitude of the worshiper is sometimes very close to idola
try. A Buddhist layman told me that in his opinion a large
number of the ignorant people really worshiped the stone image
before them; and one intelligent young man assured me that
many Buddhists prayed to the pagoda itself — that he had
always done so as a boy and that his mother did so still. Yet
for all this, Buddhist worship in Burma never loses its simplic
ity and beauty, its dignity and reverence. I remember a group
of a dozen nuns, kneeling before the great image in the Arackan
Pagoda at Mandalay. All of them had shaven heads, some of
them were old and some infirm. They had come apparently
from the convent across the river to lay their little offerings of
flowers before the feet of the Blessed One and to acquire what
merit they might by the repetition of various verses in this
most sacred shrine. They may not have understood the words
they used, and for aught I know they regarded the ancient
image before them as having some miraculous power of its
own. Only they could tell. But there was no mistaking the
devotion and reverence that was in their hearts and that shone
from their faces.
The most important and commonly repeated of the " prayers "
or formulae of praise used by Buddhists is the "Refuge," which,
of course, is always repeated in Pali. Its meaning is as follows : —
I take refuge in the Buddha.
I take refuge in the Law.
I take refuge in the Order.
A second time I take refuge in the Buddha.
A second time I take refuge in the Law.
A second time I take refuge in the Order.
A third time I take refuge in the Buddha.
A third time I take refuge in the Law.
A third time I take refuge in the Order.
345

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
The Ten Moral Precepts are also learned by all and often
recited ; as are also the list of the thirty-two parts of the body,
— both these in Pali. Besides these there are several other
prayers which are more or less popular and are often repeated
at the pagodas. One of the commonest of them is the follow
ing:— "Awgatha, Awgatha, I worship with the body, with the
mouth, and with the mind, with these three 'kans.' The first,
the second, the third; once, twice, until three times. The Lord,
the precious one; the Law, the precious one; the Assembly, the
precious one — these three precious things. I, the worshiper,
most humbly, with fervid zeal, with clasped hands, pay rever
ence, give offerings, and with pious gaze bow me down. Thus
by this worshiping I gain merit and increase in earnestness and
purity of heart, and am freed from the Four States of Punish
ment; from the Three Evil Things, starvation, plague, and
warfare; from the Eight Chambers of Hell; and from the Five
Enemies. And at the end, when the last existence has come for
me, may I pass into Nirvana." J
But it is not only at the pagoda that the people worship.
In almost every home there is a little shrine — a picture or
an image of the Buddha, and below it a shelf on which simple
offerings are daily placed. The image may be of stone and
rudely carved or of solid gold and carefully executed. The pic
tures present favorite scenes in the life of Gautama, and may
be bought at the pagodas or obtained gratis from the Mellin's
Food Company with an advertisement thrown in. Flowers
are kept before the image or picture, and in one house I re
member finding on the shelf that served as a shrine two bowls
of rice, two bowls of water, two saucers with two bananas on
each, and two jars of preserved flowers. Fresh offerings are
brought every morning, and in the more devout homes verses
are recited before the Buddha morning and night.
But the Buddha has to share the Burman's worship with
the "nats." The nats, in fact, would insist that this is only
just, for compared with them the Buddha is a newcomer in
the land. They were the gods of Burma long before Gautama
1 Shway Yoe (J. G. Scott), The Burman: His Life and Notions (London,
Macmillan & Co., 1882), vol. I, p. 223. 346

THE BUDDHISTS OF BURMA AND CEYLON
attained to Buddhahood — being in fact the ancient nature spir
its who with their cousins ruled all the world before the rise
of the "historical" religions. The Burman loves the Buddha,
but fears the nats. The Buddha he knows will never harm
him, and they may. Hence pragmatically considered the nats
are quite as important as the Buddha. Mr. Scott (who knows
the people as few others do) writes in his "Handbook of Bur
ma": "A Burmese gives alms to the monks, worships at the
pagodas on the appointed days, and repeats the doxologies
which he has learnt at school, but he governs his life and ac
tions by a consideration of what the spirits of the air, the for
ests, the streams, the village, or the house may do if they are
not propitiated. ... In his everyday life, from the day of his
birth to his marriage, to his old age, even to the point of death,
all the prominent rites and forms are to be traced, not to the
[Buddhist] Baskets of the Law, but to the traditionary whims
and fancies handed down from admittedly Shamanistic fore
fathers. If misfortunes fall upon him he makes offerings to
the evil nats, who, he thinks, have brought it upon him. When
he wants to build a house, launch a boat, plow or sow his fields,
start on a journey, make a purchase, marry a wife himself or
marry his daughter to another, bury a relative, or even endow
a religious foundation, it is the spirits he propitiates, it is
the nats whom he consults. His Pali prayers and invocations,
lauds and doxologies, avail him nothing then, and are not even
thought of."
The nats are innumerable and are ranged in a hierarchy
from Thagya Min, the King Nat (the Vedic Indra), down to
the nat of the meanest house. Every village has its altar to the
nats, and they are worshiped both in the homes and at the
pagodas.1 These statements, of course, hold only for the less
intelligent Burmese, but in matters of superstition nearly all
the laymen and the majority of the monks come under this
1 A well-informed Burmese Buddhist writes of his more ignorant fellow-
countrymen: "They look upon Thagyamin as the deus ex machina in human
affairs, and in time of distress they are ready to invoke the aid of Paya [the
Adi-Buddha or Supreme Buddha of Northern Buddhism] and of Thagya.
The common expression used is, ' Paya-thagya-ke-ba,' ' May Adi Buddha
and Indra save me!"1 (Reported by Mr. Saunders in the Burma Critic, Feb
ruary 19, 1914.) 347

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
heading. By questioning the monks on this subject one gets
an interesting variety of opinions. Some believe in the nats
as thoroughly as the laymen; a few deny their existence alto
gether; and one monk told me that the nats were of two
classes: those superior to men, advanced beings on the road
to Nirvana; and evil spirits lower than man who do not really
exist and whom only the less intelligent believe in.
It would be very misleading to give even a superficial ac
count of the religion of the Burmese layman and say nothing
of its moral teaching and influence. One of the first things —
one of the few things — which the average Burmese boy is
taught by his Buddhist instructors is the moral law of the
Great Teacher — the Five Precepts. These are: (i) Not to
take any life; (2) not to steal; (3) to avoid sexual incontinence;
(4) not to lie, deceive, or slander; (5) not to drink intoxicating
liquors. There can be no doubt that these Precepts have a very
real influence on the life of the Buddhists. Even the most casual
visitor must be struck with the very decided admiration that
all the European residents have for the Burmese. As every one
knows, European residents in the East are not given to magni
fying the virtues of the natives; and in most Oriental lands
the foreign resident — especially the business man — sees
little good in the "heathen blacks." Hence it speaks well for
the Burman that almost all Europeans in the land have a good
word — and usually an enthusiastic word — for him. Every
one will tell you that the Burmese are reliable and hospitable
and that they live up fairly well to the chief moral commands
of their religion. There is little drunkenness among them and
that little is vigorously opposed by the more devoted Bud
dhists. As a people they are peaceable and honest and very
kind, — kind to each other, to the stranger, and to the whole
sentient world. Cruelty to animals seems to the Burmese
Buddhist peculiarly abhorrent. And little acts of mercy and
thoughtfulness — such as building a booth in a village street
and keeping it supplied with a jug of fresh drinking-water for
the benefit of travelers — are very often met with.
To be sure these acts of kindness, while prompted largely by
native goodness of heart and by the example and teachings of
the Buddha, are not merely altruistic in motive. The Burman
348

THE BUDDHISTS OF BURMA AND CEYLON
wishes well to others, but he also has his eye on his next in
carnation, and he knows that these acts pile up "merit" for
him in a place where moth and rust do not corrupt nor thieves
break through and steal. This term "merit" means to the
Buddhist the obtaining of material benefits (in this or the
next life), the laying-up of a good character, and "the satis
faction of a good conscience"! 1 Which of these three shall
receive the most emphasis will, of course, depend upon the
individual. In each case, however, merit is conceived as some
thing which may be acquired (in greater or less quantity), and
deposited for use in another life. The prevalence of this view
is largely due to that most popular of Buddhist books, the
Jatakas. Good acts, then, are a kind of insurance premium, the policy
being payable in the next life. And while good acts pay well,
nothing is quite so profitable as the building or gilding of a
pagoda. One who has never been in Burma can with difficulty
form any conception of the extent to which pagoda building
has been carried and still is carried in that surprising land. As
one travels on the railway, sails up the Irrawaddy, or walks along
a country road, he is ever coming upon pagodas — some enor
mous, some tiny, some old and crumbling, surrendering their
bell-shaped form as they lapse back into the plain or lose them
selves in the wild growth of the jungle, some finished but yes
terday and not yet gilded. At Pagan on the Irrawaddy there
are upwards of ten thousand of them — and nearly all deserted.
As more merit accrues through building a new pagoda than
through restoring an old one (unless the old one be peculiarly
sacred), the process of filling the land with more and more pa
godas continues at a startling rate. Most of the smaller pagodas
are built by individuals, while the larger ones are put up — or
if old are regilded — by public subscription. At present a
rather unusual wave of pagoda enthusiasm is passing over
Burma. Nearly all the great pagodas of the land are being
regilded, and at Mandalay, the religious center, the entire
hill that commands the town is being covered with statues,
pagodas, and other religious buildings. One of these pagodas is
1 Saunder's Questionnaire, in the Appendix to his Buddhist Ideals,
(Madras, Christian Literature Society, 1912).
349

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
being built for the reception of the ashes of the Buddha re
cently found by Dr. Spooner near Peshawar; and as I have
said, the entire hill is being covered with pagodas of various
sizes, shaded stairways and passages for the accommodation
of pilgrims, rest-halls, and mammoth Buddha images. The
whole work is in the hands of a rather remarkable monk named
U Khanthi, and known as "the Hermit of Mandalay Hill."
All the funds for the new pagoda and the adornment of the hill
go into his hands and are expended at his discretion, no one
for a moment doubting his honesty or questioning his good
taste and ability. He is a man of forty or fifty with a fine face
and a quiet and commanding manner. We went to see him
while in Mandalay and found him in the great hall at the top
of the hill where he receives visitors. He greeted us most cor
dially, and we had a short interview which was broken into by
the arrival of a band of pilgrims from the Shan States on the
borders of China. The hermit made his apologies to us and
seated himself upon what might be called his official mat in
front of a blue curtain in the center of the hall, while the Shans,
in their strange costumes, squatted reverently before him.
He first read to them a few lines from a sacred text and then
all the pilgrims handed up to him, for his signature, certifi
cates showing that they had visited Mandalay Hill and seen
its famous hermit. Nearly all these Shans, we were told,
"owned" pagodas of their own at home, and they had come
here to acquire merit by the pilgrimage and by the offerings
for the hermit and his pious work. The offerings were now
brought forth from great bags, and were piled high on the
trays, provided by the hermit's servants, — rice, fruits, can
dles, cheroots black and white, and other worldly and religious
dainties. These were for the hermit's own consumption (or
for his personal charity if he preferred to give them away),
and were but the beginning of the merit-acquisition; for now
followed the real business of the day. Other trays were brought
out by the servants, and these the pilgrims loaded with silver
coins, the total contribution aggregating several hundred ru
pees. This money, of course, was for the hermit to use in his
buildings on the hill. The audience ended with a rain-making
ceremony. A woman poured water, under the hermit's direc-
350

THE BUDDHISTS OF BURMA AND CEYLON
tions, into several bowls while he repeated texts. This process,
two of his disciples told us, if carried out carefully by the Shans
on their return home would enable them to get a shower when
ever needed.
This Shan delegation was interesting to me as indicating
some of the strange constituents that go to make up the Bud
dhism of the modern Burman. And, as the reader will have
seen from the above description, the superstitious side of mod
ern Buddhism is not confined to the laity. Most of the monks
are quite as superstitious as the laymen. They have, of course,
a wider knowledge of Buddhism, but their Buddhistic learn
ing consists as a rule in committing to memory certain of the
sacred texts; and they have little idea and apparently little
care as to what the real meaning of these texts may be. Thus
two disciples of the Mandalay hermit told me that Buddha
was in Nirvana and entirely uninfluenced by prayers and
offerings, and immediately after added that Buddha was their
God, that He heard and answered prayers, and was influenced
and pleased by the offerings that were given Him. I could not
make them see their inconsistency, and it was evident that they
had never done any thinking on the present status of Buddha
and very little on any other subject connected with their re
ligion. I was told that there were not five monks in Rangoon
who could answer the questions I asked, and I am sure that
a large number of those I talked with would infallibly have
"flunked" the examination I give my college students on the
teachings of the Buddha. Of course not all the Buddhist
monks are so ignorant. In Mandalay especially there are many
very learned and intelligent pongyis l who are deep students of
the Pali books and real thinkers as to their meaning. But on
the whole the contrast between the Indians and the Burmese in
learning and intelligence is very striking. In India philosophical
knowledge and real thought are not uncommonly met with; in
Burma they are very rare.
The life of the monks is, on the whole, rather pleasant. They
live together, in smaller or larger groups, in monastery build
ings which are always comfortable, airy, and picturesque, and
sometimes very beautiful. The larger monasteries in Rangoon
1 Monks who have passed ten years in the order.
351

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
and especially in Mandalay are genuine works of art. They
are built of teak-wood, elaborately carved, and the interior is
in part painted a rich red, in part gilded. In each of these mon
asteries there is a number of small sleeping-rooms and one
large central hall with its marble or alabaster or brass image
of the Buddha, and its invariable accompaniment of candles
and fresh flowers. There are also sleeping-mats for the monks,
a library of printed books and manuscripts and beautifully
executed lacquer texts, and many votive offerings in the form
of banners and Buddhas, seated, recumbent, and standing.
It is in this hall that visitors are received, the younger monks
instructed by the abbot, and the morning and evening worship
performed in honor of the Blessed One. The number of the
monks in a monastery varies considerably. In the smaller ones
there may be only two or three, while in the Masoyein Taik or
group of monasteries (at Mandalay) there are altogether about
three hundred and fifty pongyis and a number of novices.
Nearly all Buddhist boys in Burma go for at least part of their
education to the monastery school, and most of them at some
period of their life become novices and put on the yellow robe
for a short time. If a young man decides to become a monk
and join the order permanently, he is admitted at the age of
twenty, after passing an examination and going through a cer
tain ceremony. A monk who has served for ten years has the
title of pongyi and the right to preside as abbot at a monastery
of his own.
On entering the order the monk takes, in addition to the five
vows of the layman, the following five: (6) Not to eat any
solid food after midday; (7) to abstain from dancing, singing,
plays, and all worldly and distracting amusements; (8) to ab
stain from the use of ornaments and perfumes and all that
tends to vanity; (9) to abandon the use of high and luxurious
beds and seats and to sleep on a hard low couch; (10) to possess
no money, but live always in voluntary poverty.
The monks rise in the morning about five-thirty, and after
their toilet the whole monastery assembles before the image
of the Buddha, where they bow and pledge afresh to keep the
vows that day. The pupils and novices now sweep out the
monastery, fetch water, etc., while the younger monks gather
352

MONKS AND BOYS RETURNING FROM BEGGING TRIP, MANDALAY

THE BUDDHISTS OF BURMA AND CEYLON
flowers and offer them before the Buddha, and the older ones
(the pongyis proper) meditate. After a very slight breakfast
the boys repeat their lessons, and then they all start out with
begging-bowls through the streets to collect the food for their
one genuine meal. In every Burmese village one comes upon
this line of yellow-robed figures early in the morning hours,
marching silently through the streets in Indian file, a monk at
the head followed by a line of diminutive boys each carrying
an enormous black lacquer bowl. Arrived in front of the house
of some layman whose generosity and desire for merit is well
known, the line halts and silently waits until the lady of the
house or a servant comes out and empties a quantity of steam
ing rice into the big bowl and pours some curry into one of the
smaller dishes carried in the bowl above the rice. The monk
meanwhile looks in the other direction and tries to appear
unconscious. The donation offered, the line moves on. In
some of the larger monasteries the abbot does not accompany
the others in their begging expedition, but spends this hour
in reading or instructing some of the older monks. By eleven
the boys and the younger monks have returned from their
excursion with well-filled bowls; the rice is then put together,
a dish of it and the best of the curry is sent to the abbot, and
they all have a solid meal — which in all conscience they need,
as they are to have no more for the whole day. After this the
monks wash out their bowls, intone praises to the Buddha, and
all have a good nap, while the boys study their lessons. After
nap time the lessons are heard and some of the monks read and
meditate, and at four o'clock all are free to go to some pagoda
or spend their time as they like. At six they are back again in
the monastery, the boys and novices repeat what they have
learned during the day, and the evening devotions begin. These
consist in what may be called a "general confession," namely,
the recitation of a formula which amounts to the prayer, " If
I have sinned this day may I be forgiven!" Other formulae
of prayers are recited before the Buddha image, the abbot
preaches a short sermon, the monks bow three times before
him and before the Buddha, and the day is done.
The meditation of the monks to which reference has been
made above has as its aim the control of the passions and the
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INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
cultivation of kindness. The monk should tell over upon his
beads the thirty-two constituents of the body or the nine exits
and excrements of the body, and should thereby remind him
self of the transitoriness of life and the disgusting nature of
bodily enjoyments.1 He should also seek to cultivate good
will to every living being that his eyes light upon. If, for in
stance, he sees a sick dog, he should say to himself, not "How
disgusting!" but rather, "What can I do to help this poor
creature?" Twice a month the monks assemble to hear read
the Pati Mokha, or two hundred and twenty-seven rules of
the order, after which they are supposed to confess any breach
of the rules they may have committed since the last reading.
In addition to these efforts for their own advance in righteous
ness; some of the monks endeavor to help the laymen also. If
invited they will go to some home and teach; and twice a month
(at new and full moon) they read the Law to any who care to
hear. On the whole, the monks lead a fairly moral life. Field
ing Hall, who has had thirty years' experience in Burma as a
magistrate, testifies that he has known of only five criminal
cases with which a monk was connected, and three of these
were cases of rebellion. The laity honor them and their influ
ence is mildly helpful, though hardly so superlatively ideal as
readers of Fielding Hall might suppose. Harmless they are;
and they would injure no one willingly, not even a spider. Yet
I was told that exceeding few of them would go far out of their
way to save a little girl from a life of shame. That is her own
lookout, they would say. They lead "the simple life," but
hardly the "strenuous" one. I asked a particularly intelligent
monk in Mandalay why he had chosen to be a pongyi and his
answer was significant. "I like the life," he said. Life in the
1 There are, of course, other common subjects of meditation. In the
Auguttara Nikaya, for instance, the following list of ten is recommended:
(i) The Buddha; (2) Dharma (the Law); (3) Sangha (the Order); (4) the
Precepts; (5) Charity; (6) the Gods; (7) inhaled and exhaled Breath; (8)
Death; (9) the Thirty-two Constituents of the Body; (10) release from suf
fering. (Atthana Vagga, 1, xvi.) In the early days of Buddhism the monks
carried meditation to the point of samadhi — a state of auto-hypnosis; but
this practice has long since been given up. This Yoga practice and many of
the subjects of meditation were taken over into Buddhism directly from
pre-Buddhistic India, and have no relation to Gautama's essential thought.
Cf. for instance, the sixth and seventh subjects of the list just given.
354

THE BUDDHISTS OF BURMA AND CEYLON
monastery is one of scholarly ease — or just ease. It may offer
also an opportunity for occasional usefulness as a preacher or
teacher; but the monk is exceedingly rare to whom the desire
for helpfulness is the chief attraction. They like the life.
The Buddhism of Ceylon is very similar to that of Burma.
What contrast there is between the two may be stated in gen
eral terms by saying that the Ceylonese are less devout and
more learned than the Burmans. This is true of both monks
and laymen. On entering Ceylon from Burma one is struck by
the absence of pagodas and the almost entire lack of worshipers
at the shrines except on poya days. In place of the pagoda,
with its shrine open to all who will come, is substituted the
closed vihara or temple with its hidden image and the dagoba
with its buried relic. These temples and dagobas are extremely
rare in comparison with the pagodas of Burma, so profusely
scattered over the land. Moreover, they are to be found as a
rule only within monastery enclosures, and the temples are
regularly locked except on poya days. These come in theory
four times a month, practically but twice, namely, on the new
and full moon. On these two days one sees the same sort of
devotion at the temples on the part of the people that one may
witness almost every day at a Burmese pagoda. There are the
same recitation of sacred texts in Pali and in the vernacular,
the same reverence and prostrations, the same offerings of
flowers and candles. In explanation of the small number of
worshipers at the public shrines in Ceylon, moreover, it must
be remembered that the climate here is much more trying
than in Burma, and that the devout Buddhist may perfectly
well perform his devotions in the coolness of his own home.
Home worship is much the same in Ceylon as in Burma and
there is the same appeasement of spirits good and bad. There
are, to be sure, no nats in Ceylon, but their place is taken by
the devas or devatas borrowed from Hindu mythology. The
most important of these are Sakara (the Vedic Indra), Brahma,
Vishnu, Ishwara, and Shiva. Images of these or other devatas
are to be found in the vestibules of nearly all the temples, and
sometimes within the temples themselves; and they receive
homage and offerings only after the Buddha. Not only do the
monks believe in these devas; Colonel Olcott, in his "Cate-
355

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
chism," which has had so great an influence in Buddhist reli
gious education, gravely teaches that there are three kinds of '
devas, and that if we are very good they cannot hurt us, but if
we are bad we had best watch out. Another important part of
Singhalese religion is the adoration of the pipal tree (ficus reli- 1
giosa) . In a monastery at Anuradhapura still stands the famous
pipal tree brought by Sanghamitta, the daughter of King
Ashoka, to Ceylon about 240 B.C., a scion of the sacred
"Bo tree" under which Gautama received enlightenment at
Buddh Gaya. A descendant of this greatest treasure of
Anuradhapura is to be found in the compound of almost every
large vihara in the island, where, on poya days, it receives
nearly as much homage as does the image of the Buddha him
self. But it is not only these monastery trees that are held
sacred. On the roadside and in other places one comes upon
pipal trees, large or small, before which rude altars have been
erected and offerings of flags and flowers strewn. As is the case
with so many other religious customs, the theory back of this,
is uncertain and unimportant. Some Buddhists will tell you
that the spirit of the tree is being worshiped; others that the
offerings are presented merely as a sign of grateful remem
brance that the pipal tree once sheltered the Lord Buddha.
The truth is, of course, that the theory plays but a small part,
in the mind of the worshiper. One adores the Bo tree because
it is the thing to do — and because one thereby acquires merit.1
When one reads of the devatas in Ceylon and the nats in
Burma and the tree-cult in both countries, one is inclined to
say, How Buddhism has degenerated since its early days!
There is no doubt that modern Buddhism, even in the South,
is decidedly impure; but the truth is that the Buddhism of
the people, even in the good old days of its earliest propaga
tion, has always been impure. To see what early Buddhism
was one should go, not to the Pitakas, but to the Buddhist
carvings from Mathura, Bharut, Sanchi, and other ancient
centers of the religion. The Mathura reliefs, from the sixth
century a.d., show that at that time Buddhism was shockingly
intermingled with Tantra worship: gay, not to say indecent,
female figures are more prominent in the sculptures than the
figure of the Buddha. The Bharut Tope (150 B.C.) makes
356

THE BUDDHISTS OF BURMA AND CEYLON
much of Sirima Devata, the goddess of wealth, and other fe
male figures abound. And in the carvings at Sanchi, perhaps
the earliest of all, Saraswati (the wife of Brahma) is an impor
tant figure, and almost the chief object of representation is the
adoration of the sacred tree. Brahma and Vishnu are common
figures in Buddhist sculpture all over the northwest. And if1
one goes back to the Pitakas themselves he finds no such pure
philosophical doctrine as Western books on Buddhism would
often have one believe. The whole drama of Buddha's life is
presented on a background of Hindu mythology, and even in
the teachings of Gautama the old gods are referred to as real
beings, quite as a matter of course. To be sure the gods through
out early Buddhism are always represented as inferior to the
Buddha; but so are they also in the Buddhism of Burma and
Ceylon. Ceylon, like Burma, is inhabited, or threatened, by devils
who play their usual part in the production of sickness and
other human ills. In both Burma and Ceylon astrology is
one of the most important and lucrative of the arts, and one
frequently comes upon advertisements like the following,
"Horoscopes drawn telling all future events," "Marks on the
body reveal all events, good and bad." The moral teachings
of Buddhism are, of course, the same in Ceylon as in Burma,
but on the whole they seem to have less effect. At any rate,
the Ceylonese are not so noted for their kindness to animals
as are the Burmese. Yet I think they would not suffer
greatly in comparison with us Westerners. And certainly
their religion lends all its force to the side of kindness to
ward the dumb world. This in fact is carried to an extent
which to us would often seem fantastic. The walls of many
a monastery are frescoed (for the benefit of the lay visitor)
with pictures of the sufferings in hell that await the hunter
and him who kills insects. Copleston asserts that an injured
man might lie by the wayside all day calling for help and no
Buddhist would go out of his way to help him;1 and many
1 Buddhism in Magadha and Ceylon (second edition, London, Longmans,
1908), p. 285. While this assertion seems to me to give a wrong impression,
if taken as a characterization of all Singhalese Buddhists, I do not doubt that
in many cases it would apply. Dr. Copleston had years of experience in
357

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
missionaries (reported in Mr. Saunders's Questionnaire) insist
that most Buddhists consider lying a smaller sin than killing a
flea. I feel very certain that the former of these statements is
mistaken and I am inclined to think the latter exaggerated.
The better class of monks in Ceylon are, as I have said, more
learned and intelligent than those in Burma. This hardly holds
true, however, of the rank and file — for certainly in both
countries these are ignorant enough. Twenty years ago Dr.
Bowles Daly made an exhaustive investigation of the monas
teries in Ceylon and reports: "There are about nine thousand
monks; among them a few — very few — great scholars; the
majority are illiterate, and some to avoid labour, seek a life of
indolence sheltered by the yellow robes of the priesthood;
many are depraved. There are, however, some examples of
personal piety, devotion, and self-denial, which would be an
ornament to any church." *
The monks in Ceylon are less active, less influential, and
more reserved than those in Burma. They are much less in
evidence in public, as they do but little begging, their food being
taken to them in the monasteries by pious laymen. Their
monasteries are often, characteristically, farther removed from
the madding crowd than is usually the case in Burma —
tucked away on some hillside or in the heart of the jungle. It
would be hard to find more ideal retreats for the contemplative
life than are, for instance, some of the monasteries near Galle,
in the midst of palm groves or on a forest-covered ridge, or the
famous Alut Vihara at Matale, perched on the top of its iso
lated rock. Fortunately for the legs of the little boys, the mon
asteries are not the schools of the land as they are in Burma.
Most boys go to Government or private schools, and it is not
Ceylon and knew of what he spoke. In this connection another quotation
from him may be of interest: "If it is asked, to begin with, whether the
Singhalese are evidently and unmistakably influenced in their lives by the
religion which they profess, as Mohammedans for instance are, the answer
must be, No; except in the matter of scrupulousness about taking the life
of animals. In other matters, whether a man's conduct were good or bad, he
would seldom allege religion as his motive. Religion is a matter of obtain
ing merit by certain offerings and attendances; not, in ordinary cases, a
matter of conduct." (Op. cit., p. 284.)
1 Quoted by H. Hackmann in his Buddhism as a Religion (London,
Probsthain, 1910), p. 118. 358

THE BUDDHISTS OF BURMA AND CEYLON
the custom for them, as it is for the Burmese, to take for a
time the yellow robe. Still the order as a whole is respected and
a family feels honored when one of its members enters the
monkhood. An interesting combination of the monk and the layman is
the upasaka. This word originally applied to all laymen, for
all were supposed to take upon themselves at times a certain
additional training which ordinarily obtained only for the
monks. Not many do this to-day, and the word upasaka now
refers to particularly devout laymen (more often laywomen)
who four times a month — namely, on poya days — observe
the monk's sixth, seventh, and eighth vows (given above), and
go daily to the vihara or temple with offerings to the Buddha
and to the devatas and gifts to the monks and the poor. These
upasakas are often very admirable characters, understand
and obey the spirit of helpfulness that animates their religion
at its best, and give up much of their time to deeds of real
mercy and kindness.
In their architecture, their costumes, their customs the
Singhalese are much less picturesque than are the Burmese;
and largely for this reason their type of Buddhism seems to
the stranger decidedly less attractive than does the Burmese
type. Their closer contact with Western civilization also has
not been exclusively an advantage. And, as I have said, there
is no doubt that they are less devout in their religion than the
Burmese. But it would be a mistake to suppose that they are
a bad people or that their religion is without influence. The
Singhalese are an intelligent, moral, and attractive race, and
there can be little doubt that they owe an eternal debt of grati
tude to Prince Mahinda, who first brought to them the teach
ings of India's greatest Teacher. Unfortunately neither they
nor the Burmese have kept that teaching as pure as they might
have — though they have done immeasurably better in this
respect than any of the Northern Buddhists. And this brings
us to the means by which that teaching is handed on, the reli
gious education of both these peoples — a subject which must
be reserved to the next chapter.

CHAPTER XVII
EDUCATION AND REFORM
AMONG every people in any way devout, religious educa
tion necessarily begins in childhood, whether there is
any conscious and explicit effort at instruction or not. And so
of course it is among the Burmese and Singhalese. A very com
mon sight at every frequented pagoda in Burma is the arrival
of a whole family for its daily or weekly devotions. The father
and mother and older children reverently prostrate them
selves before the Buddha, while the youngest children for a
few minutes play about; then, led by the subtle impulse to imi
tate, they take positions like those of the older members of
the family — quite without being told to do so. Thus before
they can talk they learn the formal and outward acts of wor
ship which are to constitute so large an element in their reli
gion for the rest of their days.
If they have the good fortune to be the children of devout
and careful parents they will hear from their lips, while still
very young, many of the Jataka stories — excellent folk-tales,
most of them about animals, in which the hero is always the
Buddha in some previous birth, and containing a moral lesson
of the glory of unselfish kindness which the child is not likely
to forget till he himself is ready for another incarnation. This
good old custom, however, is now on the wane, at least in Cey
lon, and many children receive but little explicit religious in
struction till the time comes for them to go to school.
In Burma the great majority of the boys still go to the mon
asteries for at least a large part of their schooling. Here, be
sides the ordinary elements, they get further instruction in the
ceremonial side of their religion, learn a little about the life of
Gautama, and commit to memory certain formulae in Pali and
Burmese — those given on pages 345 and 346 of this book and
a few others. As I have said before, many of them never under
stand fully — or they soon forget — the meaning of the Pali
verses which they learn to say. This is an evil state of things
360

EDUCATION AND REFORM
which is recognized by the more intelligent pongyis. In the
large Masoyein Taik in Mandalay, for instance, they refuse
to teach a boy any Pali text till he has first learned the meaning
of it. Such care, however, is uncommon, and mere parrot learn
ing is the rule. Of course the boys learn the meaning of some of
the texts which they memorize, and this is especially true of
the Five Precepts. These moral teachings receive the greatest
emphasis; and whatever else the boys learn or fail to learn,
they know before leaving school that it is wrong to kill, to
steal, to be impure, to lie, and to drink. The monastic schools
are hardly centers of the intellectual life; yet they have their
good points. A Rangoon Buddhist, who ought to know, writes
of the system of monastic schools that it "teaches self-abase
ment, respect, obedience, morals, and good manners." They
certainly learn the latter. In spite of this, however, the ten
dency to-day is all away from the monastic schools toward the
Government schools, where better instruction in the practical
branches, especially in English, is to be had. Here also, they
receive some instruction in Buddhism. Burmese girls, of course,
cannot go to the monasteries for their education : but there are
usually girls' schools conducted by the monks at or near the
pagoda; and they may also go to the Government schools
where they receive the same religious education as the boys.
An effort is also being made by the "Association for the Propa
gation of Buddhism" to found schools which shall combine the
advantages of both the monastic and the Government schools,
— namely, the best instruction in the practical branches and
the best training in Buddhist religion and morality. Several
schools for boys and one or two for girls have already been
started by the association, and it seems probable that the
movement will grow, especially if ever wealthy Buddhists can
be convinced that to endow a school brings one as much merit
as to gild a pagoda.
In Ceylon there are no monastery schools, in spite of which
fact the children of the well-to-do, on the whole, receive quite
as much religious instruction of the explicit, book-and-lecture
type, as do the little Burmese, though they miss the constant
training in devotion to the Buddha, reverence toward one's
teachers, and respect for the past which daily life in a monas-
361

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
tery must bring. Thirty or forty years ago Colonel Olcott, of
the Theosophical Society, began founding Buddhist schools
all over southern Ceylon in which boys and girls could get
both a good general education and an intelligent understand
ing of their own religion. To-day there are upwards of two
hundred and fifty such schools, managed by the Buddhist
branch of the Theosophical Society. The Maha-Bodhi Society
has also taken up the work of education and controls about
twenty-two schools. In all of these Theosophist and Maha-
Bodhi schools Buddhism is explicitly taught, from one to five
hours a week being given to it. In the schools which lay most
emphasis on religious instruction the children get a good deal.
They are taught first of all the Five Precepts, the "Refuge,"
and the proper reverence to the "Three Gems" (the Buddha,
the Law, and the Order); then charity, which means making
offerings to the Buddha, to the monks, and to the poor. Many
texts are studied and learned by heart, both in Pali and in
translation. Emphasis is laid upon reverence, not only to the
"Three Gems," but to parents, teachers, and older brothers
and sisters. The more advanced pupils are also taught some
thing about the "Four Noble Truths" — the center of Bud
dhist philosophy — and the way of reaching Nirvana. So elab
orate a programme as this, of course, is not for all; but all the
Theosophist and Maha-Bodhi schools see to it that their pupils
obtain some intelligent instruction in their religion. The
younger classes are, of course, taught orally; while the more
advanced have textbooks. Many of these are in the vernacular,
but the highest classes study out of books in English. For this
purpose the Theosophist schools use Colonel Olcott's "Bud
dhist Catechism," and Paul Carus's "The Gospel of Buddha";
while the Maha-Bodhi schools use Subhadra Bhikshu 's "Bud
dhist Catechism" — an excellent book of which I shall have
more to say in our next chapter.1 There is a marked difference
1 Colonel Olcott's Catechism has gone through forty-three editions and
is published by the Theosophical Publishing Society, whose chief office is
at Adyar (near Madras). Paul Carus's book appeared in 1894, and the
latest edition (the thirteenth) was published in 1910 (Open Court, Chica
go). The Buddhist Catechism, by Subhadra Bhikshu, was first published in
German in 1888. The English edition is a translation from the eighth
German edition. It is published by the Maha-Bodhi Society in Colombo.
362

EDUCATION AND REFORM
between these books: the two latter passing over in silence
most of the magical and supernormal elements of Buddhism,
or interpreting them symbolically, while Colonel Olcott's
"Catechism" — in true Theosophist style — makes a special
effort to teach such things as the "Aura" emitted by the
Buddha and various holy Bhikkhus,1 as well as from certain
dagobas in Ceylon where relics of the Buddha are said to be
enshrined. This, Colonel Olcott teaches, is a scientific fact,
as are also various other magical or "occult" things from the
Pitakas, such as multiple appearance, and "Iddhi power"
(which may be attained, says the "Catechism," from the reci
tation of mantras, ascetic practices, etc.), or the power to look
backward or forward in time with perfect retrospective or pro
phetic vision, etc. It is most unfortunate for the development
of Buddhism and for the intellectual future of Ceylon that this
book is used so much more than the others, disseminating as
it does not only the more superstitious elements of Buddhism,
but giving the Singhalese youth a badly warped idea of what
"modern science" means.
The Theosophist and Maha-Bodhi schools, of course, cost
money; hence are not for all. The tuition fee varies, in some
being seven and a half rupees a month. The poor who cannot
afford this send their boys for a little religious instruction to
the monks in the monasteries, where they work for their les
sons. These lessons are of an extremely unsystematic charac
ter — resembling the instruction in the Burmese monasteries
in type, but apparently in most respects much inferior. The
boys learn the Five Precepts, the way to kneel before the
Buddha, the way to hold their hands when praying to Him
and the way to hold them when praying to the devatas, and a
few Pali texts of which they never come to know the meaning.
The religious instruction of the adult Buddhist is very much
less systematic and thorough than is that of the child. Some
instruct themselves to some extent by reading vernacular
translations of the sacred books. For this purpose the Jataka
stories are the most popular, and are practically the only
Buddhist books that the people read themselves. Some of
these stories are also presented in "pwes" or plays, of which
1 The ancient word for Buddhist monk.
363

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
the Burmese are extremely fond, and which thus fill the place
taken by the miracle plays in mediaeval Christianity. The
monks, it must be remembered, are primarily neither priests
nor preachers : their first aim is their own salvation. Yet they
do, on occasion, give religious instruction to the people. If a
family or an individual wishes to hear the sacred books read
or to have special instruction in religious truth, a monk will
come to the home and read or preach. A special offering is, of
course, expected in return. Moreover, at the full moon and
the new moon there is usually in every community a public
reading of the Law followed by an explanation of it. In some
communities this may be done as often as four times a month.
The attendance at the time of full moon is usually large, and
the monastery on that evening forms a very pretty sight. The
people begin to come soon after dark, bearing offerings of
flowers which they lay at the feet of the Buddha, and candles
which they place within the shrine and about all the sacred
things in the compound. In Ceylon the various smaller shrines
are thus adorned; the dagoba is circled with candles, and the
great Bo tree is especially brilliant. When the candle ceremony
is finished, about nine or later, the people assemble in the
large preaching hall made for the purpose, and squatting upon
the floor listen to the monks who read — or more exactly recite
— for hours from the Pali books, accompanying their reading
by a running explanation and commentary. At the new moon
but few turn out and most of these go home before the reading;
and the two other "duty days" are observed by only a handful.
Besides these stated readings, a specially zealous monk may
announce that at a certain time and in a certain place he will
read the Law and all may come who wish. This is more com
mon in Burma than in Ceylon: in the island the monks are
very reserved and will not preach or read (outside of "poya"
days) unless specially invited to do so. "We are too proud,"
one monk said to me; "we have too much respect for the Lord
Buddha and for his religion to force it upon those who do not
first ask for it."
Besides the reading from the sacred books, the "preaching"
may include exhortation to righteousness. Harmlessness,
kindness, love, purity, and the avoidance of the three great
364

EDUCATION AND REFORM
fetters of lust, anger, and ignorance, are urged. The theoreti
cal part of the Buddhist teaching — the "Four Noble Truths"
and the doctrine of impermanence and selflessness — are sel
dom taught in these popular discourses and are reserved for
the more advanced. Attendance at these various preaching
services is, of course, left entirely to the conscience of each
family or individual, and so far as I could discover no attempt
is ever made to seek and find the lost sheep and bring them
back to the fold. Each Buddhist is his own master and no one
is his brother's keeper. The state of your soul is none of my
business, and if you wish to pile up evil Karma for yourself, it
is your affair, not mine.
Where so little effort is made to keep those born in the Bud
dhist faith true to their religion, there is, of course, little thought
of bringing into .the fold those born outside it. A few laymen
in both Burma and Ceylon favor (in a passive sort of way)
attempts at proselyting, but there is hardly a monk in either
land who would think of taking the first steps to convert a
non-Buddhist. If the non-Buddhist inquires after the truth,
the monk will be really glad to help him find it; but he has
too much respect for the independence of every individual to
seek to spread the Law among those who do not wish for it.
It is doubtless as a result of this listlessness in teaching and
propagating their religion that many of the monks are becom
ing rather pessimistic of its future. Particularly is this the case
in Burma. Many Burmese monks said to me that Buddhism
was on the wane and that they looked forward to its complete
extinction in Burma and in the world. This, however, did not
seem greatly to trouble them. They correlated it — and logi
cally enough — with the prophecy of Gautama, that in five
thousand years after his death, the true doctrine would die
out of the world and the new Buddha, Maitreya, would have
to come to restore it. Thus the very decline of their religion
they hail as a fulfillment of the prophecy of its founder. In Cey
lon, on the other hand, the feeling was much more hopeful —
owing, perhaps, to the more determined and systematic effort
in that island at the education of the young. Something also
is being done (though not much) toward the conversion of the
Tamils. 365

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
If the monks are content to wait for Maitreya Buddha to
restore the true doctrine and reconvert mankind, there are
many Buddhist laymen in both Ceylon and Burma who have
not so much of the virtue of patience, and who are willing to
risk defeat and disappointment in the effort to spread again
the pure doctrine of the Law and the old enthusiasm for it.
In Burma they have several institutions with this end. One
is the Y.M.B.A. ("Young Men's Buddhist Association") with
activities of various sorts, athletic, intellectual, and religious,
in imitation of the Y.M.C.A. I was told that it was in a some
what moribund, or at least hibernating, condition; but its aim,
at least, — the retention of the young men and their upbuild
ing in the Buddhist faith and the cultivation of their moral
character, — speaks well for its founders. Then there is the
"Association for the Propagation of Buddhism," whose edu
cational work has already been referred to. Other centers of
reform effort are the "Mandalay Society for Promoting Bud
dhism" and the "Rangoon College Buddhist Association," both
of which publish periodicals devoted to the spread of pure
Buddhism. The latter in addition holds young men's meetinp
for religious and moral instruction and discussion.1 Mention
should also be made of the "Burman" and one or two other
periodicals of Buddhist reform; and especially of the preach
ing of Ledi Sadaw, — known all over Burma as the "Great
Teacher," — a kind of Buddhist revivalist and at the same
time a real scholar, who though himself a monk has caught
the laymen's spirit of reform and devotes his entire time to
study, writing, and itinerant preaching. The example of Ledi
Sadaw is a shining exception; for the monkhood as a whole
is either indifferent or positively hostile to the new move
ment. 1 The objects of the "Mandalay Society for Promoting Buddhism"
(which was "established a.b. 2444") are: —
(1) To maintain the Buddhist monks in food, etc.
(2) To promote the learning of Buddhist Scriptures.
(3) To start an Anglo-vernacular Buddhist school.
(4) To publish a monthly Buddhist journal.
(5) To start a printing-press.
(6) To look after the Buddhist monasteries, pagodas, inscriptions, etc.
(7) To train Buddhist monks in different languages and send them abroad
as missionaries. 366

EDUCATION AND REFORM
The monks, indeed, are losing their influence over the laity
of Burma and are becoming conscious of the loss. This is due
in part to the fact that every year more parents take their chil
dren out of the monastery schools and send them where they
can receive more modern instruction. In part it is due to the
fact that many monks, after a few years in the monastery, now
give up the religious life and return to the world — a tendency
nearly as noticeable, in this active age, among Buddhists as in
the Roman Catholic Church, and one which, at least in Burma,
is bringing the monastic life into disrespect among the people.
The monastic ideal is declining the world over, in Buddhist
lands as well as in Christian.
The reform movement in Ceylon resembles closely that in
Burma. Here, however, there is perhaps a greater emphasis
upon education, more intelligent and concerted effort, and a
more hopeful and enthusiastic attitude of mind. The move
ment is also characterized by a more pronounced antagonism
to Christian missionary effort. Four chief means of reform,
instruction, and propagation are used, (i) The Buddhist
schools of which I have already spoken. Some of these are
deliberately placed to counteract the influence of Christian
schools. One missionary told me — in aggrieved tones —
that wherever a Christian school was started, a Buddhist
school is set up with the deliberate aim of emptying the former;
and in some cases, he added, the Buddhists succeed. (2) Bud
dhist institutions are founded in imitation of Christian insti
tutions which are known to have worked well. The Y.M.B.A.
has been at work for some years in Ceylon, and now they have
founded a Buddhist Sunday-School. Most important, per
haps, of these institutions are the "Maha-Bodhi Society," and
the recently founded "International Buddhist Brotherhood,"
which aims to unite Buddhists of all lands — northern and
southern — in an attempt at reviving the work and spirit of
Gautama. (3) Itinerant preachers are sent about. (4) The
printing-press is kept busy turning out Buddhist tracts and
periodicals, containing both instruction in Buddhism and
attacks upon Christianity. The Theosophist Buddhists pub
lish a weekly paper in the vernacular and the Maha-Bodhi
Society another, — each disseminating about six thousand
367

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
copies every week. The Maha-Bodhi Society also publishes a
monthly in English, known as "The Maha-Bodhi and the
United Buddhist World."
This Maha-Bodhi Society is the most promising force for
reform within Buddhism that I came upon in either Burma or
Ceylon. I use the word "promising" advisedly, for though it
occasionally lends itself to unscholarly and frantic attacks
upon Christianity with ammunition drawn from the rationalist
press, its great aim is the moral and intellectual regeneration
of Buddhism, and as a rule it puts its emphasis in the right
place. It was founded in 1891, by Mr. H. Dharmapala, a schol
arly layman of Colombo who represented Southern Buddhism
in the Chicago Congress of Religions in 1893, and who is still
the head of the society. He realized that to do the most pos
sible for his fellow-countrymen he must be neither lay nor
clerical. The layman is too busy with the affairs of the world
and its ties to give himself up absolutely to the work of reform;
and the monk, living in the monastery, is too far removed —
physically and spiritually — from the world which the re
former would help. So Mr. Dharmapala took the vows and
the yellow robe of the monk, but lives in the world, and gives
up his time to preaching the pure Buddhism of Gautama. This,
he says, is nowhere to be found to-day; with the exception of
a few individuals here and there, there are no real Buddhists
left in the world. The doctrine of the Master has been so over
laid with successive layers of accretions that it is no longer
recognizable. His aim and that of the Maha-Bodhi Society
is, therefore, to tear off all these accretions and to go back to
that part of Buddhism which originated with the Buddha.1
The two points that he emphasizes most in his preaching
and his writing are Activity and the importance of the Present
Moment.
1 The specific aims of the Maha-Bodhi Society are thus officially ex
pressed: "To make known to all nations the sublime teachings of the
Buddha Sakya Muni; to reestablish a monastery and college at Calcutta,
Benares, and Isapatana for the residence of Bhikkhus of Thibet, Ceylon,
China, Japan, Burma, Siam, Cambodia, Chittagong, Nepal, Korea, and
Arakan; for training young men of unblemished character of whatsoever
race and country for carrying abroad the message of peace and brotherly
love promulgated by the Divine Teacher twenty-four centuries ago."
368

EDUCATION AND REFORM
The Singhalese are too fond of putting off to another time
important matters and of looking forward to a future incarna
tion to set things right. Hence he never ceases urging upon them
that now, now, is the time to do whatever is worth doing, and
that it is here and now that they must look for salvation and
Nirvana if it is ever to be attained. The other point is even
more important. Buddhism must not be made into a religion
of passivity and idleness. The Buddha himself was always
active and always preaching activity. And by activity Mr.
Dharmapala means (i) unremitting alertness against the in
numerable and subtle temptations of sloth, ignorance, lust,
anger, envy, avarice, pride, and the rest; and (2) constant
endeavor to help others into a knowledge of the truth with its
resulting peace and joy. In preaching activity and unselfish
ness as the great Buddhist virtues he has to deal with the ex
ample of the monks; and no Christian missionary could be
more unsparing in his invectives. The monks live, he says, a
life of lazy and selfish retirement; their chief religious function
is ringing the temple bell, and their chief activity is often that
of drinking tea. It is against them a large part of his preaching
is directed, and the people are exhorted not to take them as
ideals. He also calls upon the people not to identify religion
with external observances and the repetition of meaningless
formulas, but to work out their own salvation as the Lord
Buddha taught, by means of moral activity. It is wrong to
trust to the ringing of a bell as the monks do at the dagobas:
and it is wrong to trust to prayer to an imaginary deity as the
Christian padres do. Only one's own moral activity can really
lead to peace.
The people, he assures me, respond to this sort of doctrine,
and at many a remote village after he has preached they say
to him, "This sort of simple teaching we can understand. But
why did not some one tell us this before?"
Unfortunately there are not many men in Ceylon or Burma
like Mr. Dharmapala. But he is kindling a fire that may not
be extinguished. For he has seen that the glory of Buddhism
lies in the spirit of service which so dominated its great founder;
and he has chosen as the motto of the society those noble
words addressed by the Buddha to his earliest disciples: "Go
369

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
ye, O Bhikkhus, and wander forth for the gain of the many,
the welfare of the many, in compassion for the world, for the
good, for the gain, for the welfare of gods and men. Proclaim,
0 Bhikkhus, the Doctrine glorious, preach ye a life of holiness,
perfect and pure."

CHAPTER XVIII
THE DOCTRINES OF MODERN BUDDHISM
THE most universally accepted and the most influential
of the doctrines of Buddhism is undoubtedly the belief
in rebirth and Karma. This, as popularly understood, differs
hardly at all from the corresponding Hindu doctrine from
which it was, of course, derived. The important modifications
made by the Buddha, in consequence of his having done away
with a substantial self or soul, are known only to the more
learned, and for the layman are almost non-existent. For him
the truth is very simple: one dies, goes to heaven or hell for a
shorter or longer period, until a certain amount of his merit or
demerit has been consumed, and then is reborn into this world
in accordance with the deeds done in his former body. In a
general way this belief is borne out by the orthodox Buddhist
teaching — which in fact provides not only rebirth and several
heavens and hells, but also a preliminary and intermediate
state which two Buddhist authorities (Professor Rhys-Davids
and Mr. F. L. Woodward) translate "purgatory." There is,
however, no place in the orthodox philosophy for the popular
belief in the reward and rebirth of the identical individual.
Since for Buddhism the self is merely a collection of qualities,
there is no real self or ego to be rewarded or reborn. This
anatta doctrine of the merely phenomenal nature of the self is,
as I have indicated, quite unknown to most laymen and to the
less learned of the monks; but many monks there are in
both Burma and Ceylon who understand and hold it and teach
it in quite the manner of Nagasena in his famous conversa
tions with King Milinda in the classic days of Buddhism.1
The Hermit of Mandalay Hill expounded it to me by asking:
"Where, sir, is the monastery? Is this column the monastery?
Is this brick the monastery? Surely there is no being known
1 The Questions of King Milinda, H, I (translated by Rhys-Davids),
,.S. B. E. vol. xxxv. (Oxford, Clarendon Press, 1890 J
371

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
as the monastery here to be found. So there is no self, but only
a collection of members and of characteristics — name and
form." This is sound Buddhist doctrine, and however it
pleases us we must admit that it is surprisingly modern in tone
and thoroughly consistent with Western science and philoso
phy. In essentials it is the doctrine of Hume, of Friedrich
Paulsen and William James, of Pragmatism and of most mod
ern psychology.
But if there be no ego or soul, what is there to be reborn?
The "Buddhist Catechism," by Subhadra Bhikshu (which as
I said in the last chapter is used as a textbook in some of the
Buddhist schools and is, perhaps, as authoritative a presenta
tion of Buddhism as can be found in any modern summary)
answers this question as follows: —
"It is our will-to-live and our moral character that are re
born. These form the core of our being, and create for them
selves after the disintegration of our present body a new one,
corresponding exactly to their nature."
The "Catechism" goes on to ask: —
"Then the being which is reborn is not the same which
died?" And the answer is: —
" It is not the same and not another. It may seem to be an
other to a man still in the state of ignorance, who wrongly
identifies his personal ego-consciousness with his true being.
He who has attained wisdom knows that his real being is his
will-to-live and his moral character [" Tanha" and " Karma"];
but that the recurring ego-consciousness is only a transient
phenomenon, to be compared to the torch lit by a wanderer
at night to find his way. When he does not need it any more
he extinguishes it, to light a new torch for a later wandering.
Thus, though the ego-consciousness may change, it is in a
sense by the tie of Karma always the same individuality which
in one birth does the good or bad deeds and in the next reaps
the fruits of these deeds, though in the absence of any sub
stance passing from one life to the next it is not absolutely the
same." *
But just as there are few disciples of Hume who consistently
1 Pages 36-37.
372

THE DOCTRINES OF MODERN BUDDHISM
speak as if the self were merely "a bundle or collection of dif
ferent perceptions," so there are few Buddhists who carry out
their doctrine of the ego in all its logical implications. Possibly
heaven, hell, and "purgatory," for which chapter and verse
in the sacred books can be cited, may be made consistent with
this doctrine. But it is harder to see how on this view there is
any hope for the reunion of friends on the other side of death.
And yet this hope certainly is held by some in both Burma and
Ceylon, and even justified as a possibility by some of the schol
ars of Buddhism.1
There is, then, a practical kind of agreement between
learned and ignorant on the question of heaven, hell, and re
birth. And concerning retribution and the law of Karma there
is even more complete unanimity. All Buddhists believe with
the Hindus that sequence of reward following upon good deeds
and punishment following evil deeds is eternal and inevitable;
that what we sow we reap through endless ages. Whether high
or low, ignorant or learned, the Buddhist has an unshakable
and unquestioning, almost a naive, confidence in the absolute
justice of the universe.
There is no such unanimity between the ignorant and the
learned on the question of the present condition of the Buddha
— a question of very practical importance considering his
central position in Buddhist thought and worship. The more
ignorant Buddhists — including some even of the monks —
accept the Buddha to all practical purposes as a god. For
many of them he leads a conscious and joyous existence, hears
the prayers of his followers and answers them. This, of course,
is not the orthodox view, and all the more intelligent monks
will assure you that the Buddha is beyond hearing petitions
or answering prayers. In the words of a monk in Kandy and
of another in Galle with whom I talked and whose English was
not so good as their Pali, "Buddha finish." A monk in Ran
goon put it thus : " Buddha is not living; he is beyond conscious-
1 Cf. an article, "Death and After," by Professor E. J. Mills, in the
Buddhist Review for October, 1912, especially p. 295. Fielding Hall has a
pathetic story of a Burmese woman who believed that her dead lover was
reborn in the body of her baby, and who when the baby died went herself
into the other world hoping to join him there. The Soul of a People [Lon
don, Macmillan, 191 1], pp. 306-08). 373

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
ness and has neither consciousness nor soul. He is inactive
and can do nothing for us actively. He lives only in his teach
ings. He is in Nirvana." And a monk at Mandalay put it in
much the same way: "Buddha is non-existent so far as we
know, and has no consciousness of what happens here. He
certainly does not hear prayer. He is in Nirvana."
As the words of both these monks suggest, the question of
the Buddha's present status inevitably raises in the Western
mind the question of the nature of Nirvana. I say "in the
Western mind," for Nirvana as a state after death certainly
plays a much more important part in Western ideas of Bud
dhism than in the thoughts of Buddhists. The masses know
they have so little chance at Nirvana for thousands of years
that they do not much trouble their heads over its nature. And
the two most intelligent Buddhists I ever met assured me that
the fact that I asked about Nirvana showed I was going at
Buddhism from the wrong — the Western — end. And, in
deed, they have the authority of the Buddha himself for their
words. In the Majjhima-Nikaya we are told that this ques
tion of the condition of the saint after death once presented
itself to the venerable Malunkyaputta, one of Gautama's fa
vorite disciples. And he said to himself: —
"These questions which the Blessed One has left uneluci-
dated, has set aside and rejected, — whether the world is
eternal, whether the world is infinite, whether the saint exists
after death, — these the Blessed One does not elucidate to me.
And the fact that the Blessed One does not elucidate them to
me does not please me. I will therefore draw near to the
Blessed One and inquire of him concerning this matter."
So he arose and drew near to the Blessed One and put his
questions, closing them by saying : —
" If the Blessed One knows that the world is eternal, or that
the world is infinite, or that the saint exists after death, or that
he does not exist after death, let the Blessed One elucidate
these things to me. If the Blessed One does not know, the
only upright thing for one who does not know, who has not
that insight, is to say, ' I do not know: I have not that insight.' "
To this the Buddha responded : —
"Pray, Malunkyaputta, did I ever say to you, 'Come,
374

THE DOCTRINES OF MODERN BUDDHISM
Malunkyaputta, lead the religious life under me and I will
elucidate to you whether the world is eternal or infinite
and whether the saint exists or does not exist after death?'
Malunkyaputta, any one who should say, ' I will not lead the
religious life under the Blessed One until the Blessed One shall
elucidate to me these questions; that person would die, Malun
kyaputta, before the Perfect One had ever elucidated them
to him. It is as if a man had been wounded by an arrow
thickly smeared with poison, and his friends and companions,
his relatives and kinsfolk, were to procure for him a physician;
and the sick man were to say, ' I will not have this arrow taken
out until I have learned whether the man who wounded me
belonged to the warrior caste, or the Brahmin caste, or to the
agricultural caste, or to the menial caste'; or as if he were to
say, 'I will not have this arrow taken out until I learn the
name of the man who wounded me and to what clan he be
longs; or till I have learned whether he was black, or dusky,
or of a yellow skin; or till I have learned whether the arrow
was an ordinary arrow, or a claw-headed arrow, or an iron
arrow, or a calf-tooth arrow.' That man would die, Malunkya
putta, without ever having learned this. In exactly the same
way, Malunkyaputta, any one who should say, ' I will not lead
the religious life under the Blessed One until he shall elucidate
to me whether the world is eternal and whether the saint
exists after death, — that person would die, Malunkyaputta,
before the Perfect One had ever elucidated this to him.
"The religious life does not depend on the dogma that the
world is eternal or infinite, or that the saint exists after death.
Whether these doctrines are true or false there still remain
birth, old age, death, sorrow, lamentation, misery, grief, de
spair, for the extinction of which in the present life I am pre
scribing. Accordingly, Malunkyaputta, bear always in mind
what it is that I have not elucidated. And why have I not elu
cidated these questions? Because they profit not, they have
not to do with the fundamentals of religion, therefore have I
not elucidated them." *
1 Translated by Warren in his Buddhism in Translations (published by
Harvard University, 1896), pp. 117-22. I have greatly abbreviated the
375

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
The Buddha, in short, insisted — and he did it repeatedly I
and consistently — that he came not to teach philosophy, but
to save the world. And in this he showed his wisdom. He J
would not allow the attention of his followers to be deflected
from the main issue. He was determined that the emphasis
should be put in the right place. Were he alive to-day he
would probably point out to us how sadly religion has suffered
— how sadly Christianity has suffered — by the confusion of
the religious life with metaphysics; and how the union of reli
gion with speculation lays it open to certain and unnecessary
attack. The state of the saint after death — Nirvana — may
be conscious or it may not; but in neither case has it anything
to do with "absence of passion, quiescence, and supreme wis
dom." But while it is true that the Buddha never committed him
self on the question whether the saint existed or did not exist
after death, and while doubtless the orthodox Buddhist should
follow his example, there is still something to be gleaned from
the sacred books concerning Nirvana, and nearly all the
monks, learned and ignorant alike, have more or less decided
views on the subject. One monk, who had evidently read\
widely in Buddhist literature, told me that Nirvana was "eternal t
happiness." This "happiness," he said, was a very different •
thing from pleasure. There was no pleasure in Nirvana, noth
ing worldly; but Nirvana was a state of conscious happiness
none the less and by no means a cessation of consciousness.
An upasaka who taught Buddhism in a boys' school told me
practically the same thing: to use his own words, Nirvana
means "eternal comfort"; and the abbot of the leading Mal-
watta 1 monastery in Kandy agreed with him in this definition.
Probably this is the view that many monks and laymen hold.
On the other hand, the majority of the learned monks with
whom I have talked in both Burma and Ceylon, as well as
several of the laymen, insisted that Nirvana is not a conscious
state at all. I quoted to the monk at Galle (to whom I referred
1 The most important of the two subdivisions of the Siamese Order of
monks in Ceylon. About fifty per cent of Buddhist monks in Ceylon be
long to the so-called Siamese Order. There are two other orders, the Amara-
pura and Ramanya. 376

ONE OF THE FOUR GREAT SHRINES AT THE SHWAY DAGON PAGODA, RANGOON

THE DOCTRINES OF MODERN BUDDHISM
above) the definitions of Nirvana as "eternal happiness" and
"eternal comfort," and he asserted stoutly that these views
were absolutely mistaken. In his own picturesque word again,
Nirvana means "finish"; — "comfort and happiness finish as
well as discomfort and sorrow." Something like this was the
view of most of the monks with whom I talked, and it cer
tainly would seem to be the logical conclusion from the prem
ises. For when Karma and the will-to-live cease to act, even
the shadow of a self which Buddhism recognizes ceases to
exist. As there is nothingand no one to be conscious, and no
reproduction of name, form, characteristics, or "Khandas,"
it is hard to see how Nirvana can be anything but the end of
consciousness — in other words, "finish"! Such was evi
dently the reasoning of the monks with whom I talked. And
they almost all added that they longed for Nirvana because
conscious life was necessarily evil. The people, they told me,
— and I thought this significant, — did not really want Nir- '.
vana. What they desired was heaven and a good rebirth.
One old monk, however, with whom I had a long interview
through an interpreter, had a more agnostic view concerning
Nirvana. The boy or young man who had come with me to
interpret was a very well-informed and thoughtful Buddhist.
We had had a long talk on our way to the monastery concern
ing the Buddhist and the Burmese view of life, and he had
assured me that many of the Burmese, in spite of their gay
exterior, were sad at heart; and that for his own part, life
seemed to him a rather dreary thing. When we reached the
monastery and I had asked my question about Nirvana, the
monk denned it as a state where there is no more birth, old
age, or death. The boy then added, of his own motion, that
Nirvana is equivalent to being totally dead; that it is as if the
death of the body ended it all — except, of course, that Nir
vana can be attained only after a series of lives. When the
monk learned what the boy had said he corrected him, insisting
that we cannot possibly know so much as this. Nirvana, he
added, may have a kind of consciousness, and may contain a
great deal of which we are entirely ignorant and at which we
cannot even guess. All we know is that it is the end of birth,
old age, and death, the end of lust, ill-will, and ignorance. It
377

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
is like a house of which we see the outside only and not the
inside. We know the way thither, but what is within we can
not tell. The boy was obviously much impressed. by this view
and said this was the first time he had ever heard such a de
scription of Nirvana. On our walk back from the monastery
he returned to the subject and dwelt upon it long and thought
fully. The possibility that Nirvana might be in any sense con
scious instead of blank non-existence came to him, he said,
with unhoped-for comfort. Hitherto it had seemed to him (for
so he had always been taught) that conscious existence inevi
tably involved suffering, and life had seemed to him necessarily
melancholy. He had longed for Nirvana as complete cessation
of existence and the only possible escape. But if conscious life
was really possible without sorrow, he would welcome it eagerly.
And he added, "The Lord Buddha must have known what
was in Nirvana; and why did he not tell us? If he only had
told us it would have made everything so much easier and life
so much happier!" I did not venture to suggest that possibly
the Lord Buddha himself did not know. I only pointed out
that the teaching of Christianity was in some way similar to
what the monk had said, and that it held out the hope of a
continued existence of strenuous endeavor and achievement,
free from most of the fetters that bind us here. The boy re
sponded, "Christianity is certainly very much more comfort
ing than Buddhism, and if I only could believe it true I would
be glad to accept it. But the question is, Is it true?"
None of the Buddhists whom I questioned in either Burma
or Ceylon had any hope of attaining to Nirvana in the next
incarnation, and none of them except Mr. Dharmapala and
his brother Mr. Hewavitarna (the leaders of the Maha-Bodhi
movement) made any reference to the common view of the
Pitakas that Nirvana may be attained in this life. Instead of
adopting this orthodox Buddhist view the Burmese Buddhists
put off the hour of the attainability of Nirvana to the indefi
nite distant future, and all my Ceylonese acquaintances, with
the two exceptions named above, said very definitely that no
man now living could attain to Nirvana before the coming of
Maitreya Buddha — which some placed about twenty-five
hundred years from now, and others at an indefinitely later
378

THE DOCTRINES OF MODERN BUDDHISM
period. Mr. Kenneth Saunders, whose knowledge of both
Singhalese and Burmese Buddhism is very extensive, testifies
that he never met or heard of any Buddhist who expected to
attain Nirvana in his next birth, and none of the respondents
to his Ceylonese Questionnaire had ever heard of any. This
is rather surprising considering the unmistakable teaching of
the Pitakas that Nirvana is attainable in this life. Subhadra's
"Catechism," which adopts this latter view, makes a distinc
tion (based on the Pitakas) between the Nirvana which one
may attain in this life, and the state which follows upon the
death of one who has attained Nirvana, a state which it dis
tinguishes by the name "Parinirvana." I shall close our dis
cussion of this subject by three quotations from this authori
tative little book: —
"Nirvana is a state of mind and heart in which all desire for
life or annihilation, all egoistic craving has become extinct,
and with every passion, every grasping desire, every fear, all
ill-will, and every sorrow. It is a state of perfect inward peace,
accompanied by the imperturbable certainty of having at
tained deliverance, a state words cannot describe, and which
the imagination of the worldling tries in vain to picture to him
self. Only one who has himself experienced it knows what
Nirvana is."
"The individuality continues to appear in constantly recur
ring embodiments until perfect wisdom and moral purification,
Nirvana, are attained. Then after the death of the last body
it becomes totally extinct in Parinirvana." "Parinirvana, in
the sense of other religions and of scientific materialism, is,
indeed, total annihilation, complete dissolution of the individ
uality, for nothing remains in Parinirvana which in any way
corresponds to the human conception of existence. But from the
point of view of one who has attained to the state of the Araha
[i.e., to Nirvana, in this life], it is rather the world with all
its phenomena which is 'nothingness,' a reflected image, an
iridescent bubble, a terrifying dream; and Parinirvana is the
entrance into real existence, into the eternal, unchangeable,
imperishable, where there is no diversity, no strife, and no
suffering." "It is not possible to form any idea of Parinirvana: it is
379

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
beyond all knowledge, beyond all conception. It cannot be said
that it is or that it is not, because no forms of existence are
applicable to Parinirvana. One can only say it is final eman
cipation, the complete extinction of individuality — eternal
rest and peace. 'There is, O disciples, a state where there is
neither earth nor water, neither air nor light, neither infinity
of space nor infinity of time, neither any form of existence nor
nothingness, neither perception nor non-perception, neither
this world nor that world. There there is neither coming into
existence nor decay, neither birth nor death, neither cause nor
effect, neither change nor stability. There is, O disciples, an
unborn, unoriginated, uncreated, unformed. Were there not,
there would be no escape from the world of the born, origi
nated, created, formed.' Thus sayeth the Master." l
Whatever this may mean, it is evident that the Buddha,
who long ago passed into Parinirvana, is far removed from
this world of ours, out of earshot of all our prayers, out of sight
of all our offerings, and can neither influence us nor be influ
enced by us. As the monk in Galle put it, "Buddha finish."
That being the case, the important and practical question
arises, Of what use are worship, prayer, and offering?
Most Buddhist laymen, I suppose, have no answer to this
question and no explicit theory about it. Their position is that
of one of their number with whom I used to talk in Mandalay.
He told me first that Buddha is in Nirvana and knows nothing
of our prayers and praises. Then I asked him whether he
prayed to Buddha for definite things, such as success in busi
ness, and he answered, Yes. I asked whether he thought these
prayers were answered and he said he supposed so. When,
1 Pages 22, 61, and 37 of the Catechism. I add here the definition of
Nirvana given in Colonel Olcott's Catechism (p. 33): "Nirvana is a condi
tion of total cessation of changes; of perfect rest: of the absence of desire
and illusion and sorrow: of the total obliteration of everything that goes
to make up the physical man."
Paul Carus's Gospel of Buddha does not seek, as the two Catechisms do,
to give a systematic presentation of Buddhist doctrines, but (following the
example of the evangelists rather than that of the Westminster divines)
aims to present the teachings of the founder in his own words or in conscien
tious paraphrases of them. Hence from this textbook of Buddhism we get
only the general teaching of Gautama himself, that Nirvana means "extinc
tion of illusion," etc., and beyond that only silence on the question whether
it is a final extinction of personality. 380

THE DOCTRINES OF MODERN BUDDHISM
then, I asked how he could make this consistent with his view
of the inaccessibility of Buddha, and how he accounted for the
effectiveness of his prayers, he said he did n't know. He saw
the inconsistency plainly, and said his prayers were not due to
any theory on the subject, but merely to a habit which he had
acquired in childhood, from his parents, l
Buddhists less learned in their religion than he, of course,
have no such logical difficulties to face. Those who regard the
Buddha practically as a god, living in heaven and hearing
prayer, naturally pray to him. And this I may call the first of
three theories of prayer which one finds implicit among the
Buddhists. The almost irrepressible human demand for help
when human help fails forces many a Buddhist to turn in
prayer to the Blessed One, even if he has learned from some
monk that petition to the Buddha is vain. Fielding Hall re
ports such a prayer bursting from the heart of a mother for
the recovery of her first born. And Saunders, in reporting the
answers to his Ceylonese Questionnaire, says of the Singhalese
women: "It is they who frequent the temples, coining with
simple offerings of flowers and a pathetic wish or prayer, ' May
I be born beautiful as these in my next life!' Or one may be
seen offering strands of her hair and ejaculating, 'May I be
born with hair long and lustrous!' Or again a pregnant woman
will offer white or yellow flowers hoping to have a fair child." J
Those who accept the doctrine that petitions to the Buddha
are useless are not, however, thereby deprived of the use of
prayer. For the nats or devatas stand always ready, and they
are easily to be influenced by petitions and promises. For this
reason some of these lower beings assume in the worship of a
large part of the laity a much more important position than
the Buddha himself. It is the old story of the "high gods of
low peoples" to which Andrew Lang and others have drawn
attention. The shrine of the deva of Adams Peak is much more
popular than that of the Buddha on its summit: for the deva,
as every one knows, can hear and answer prayer and may be
influenced by the promise of an offering, not to say a bribe;
whereas the Buddha — he is in Nirvana! Nor is it the igno
rant layman alone who makes prayers and offerings to the lower
1 Buddhist Ideals, Appendix, p. 134-
381

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
spirits. Several of the monks of my acquaintance do the same,
and the learned monk I found in the Galle Vihara told me of
the most approved way of doing it. One makes a request to
the deva and promises that if it is granted an offering will be
made to the Buddha and the merit from this offering will be
handed over to the deva — for devas are in as great need of
merit as we, and merit (as we shall see) is transferable. This,
the monk assured me, however, was not to be regarded as re
ligion, but merely as business. It was, he said, like making a
contract with Government. Religion has to do with the
Teacher. The strictly logical Buddhist view, of course, makes peti-
tional prayer quite useless. And this is what we may call the
second theory. Gautama himself held this view, and in illus
tration of it once said to a Brahmin: "What would you think
if this stream were swollen up to the edge and a man whose
business called him to the other side came up here and shouted
out: 'Come over here, O thou other shore! Come over to my
side!' What would you think? Would all his calling and pray
ing and beseeching and hoping bring over to him here that
other shore? Even like this man are you Brahmins when ye
say: 'Indra, we call to Thee! Soma, Varuna, Brahman, we call
to Thee!' Ml In similar vein a monk in the Gangarama Vihara,
near Kandy, said to me: "You Christians believe in 'God' and
pray to him. That is like children crying out in a storm. You
are trusting to something you know nothing about. We Bud
dhists do nothing of the kind, — we rely on ourselves alone."
This second, and logical, Buddhist view of prayer, of course,
does away only with petition: other forms of worship are reg
ularly practiced — and consistently — by the most logical
monks. They make no prayers in the sense of petitions, but
they recite every day certain texts of praise to the Buddha and
of consecration of themselves. With a few these praises are
genuine outbursts of gratitude to the Great Teacher, long
since passed away, who showed the Path of Escape from sorrow.
But this spontaneous outburst of gratitude is probably very
uncommon. The whole Buddhist training is against impulse
and cultivates a colder and more reasoning action. Most of
1 Quoted by Dahlke, Buddhist Essays (London, Macmillan, 1908), p. 142-
382

THE DOCTRINES OF MODERN BUDDHISM
those who accept what I call the second theory of prayer per
form their worship for a very definite reason. They do it (and
this is an interesting point) consciously and deliberately for
the sake of its good subjective effects upon themselves. A
monk in Rangoon said to me, "Prayer and offering are not
received by the Buddha in the sense that they have any effect
upon him, nor in the sense of being means of procuring any
thing from him. Their value is subjective purely. A prayer
for purity or peace is likely to bring about its own fulfillment,
especially if accompanied by the thought of the Buddha as our
ideal. The Buddha, indeed, is for our practical purposes quite
dead, but he is the ideal of what humanity might be and of
what each one of us ought to be. Thus prayer for the enlight
ened Buddhist is not supplication, but mental discipline." *
In like manner the offerings which the strictly logical Bud
dhist makes are in part performed out of gratitude to the Mas
ter and as a mark of honor to him, just as we put flowers, year
after year, on the graves of those we have loved long ago; in
part the offerings like the " prayers " are made for their subjec
tive effect upon the worshiper and upon all those who see them.
This is particularly true of flowers. Flowers are used not
merely for the sake of their beauty as a gift on the shrine of
the Blessed One. Their fading in the shrine and the subsequent
necessity of casting them out to wither and disintegrate is an
integral part of the ceremony and one of the aims of the offer
ing. For this should keep the worshiper ever in mind of the
fact that as these beautiful and fragrant flowers wither, so
must his body and the most beautiful human bodies die and
decay, in this world where all is transitory.
But there is a third theory of prayer and offering which is a
compromise between the two others, and which is interesting
as being particularly Buddhistic. It is a kind of extension of
1 In this connection it is interesting to note that the two " prayers "
which all Buddhists are supposed to recite at daybreak and bed-time every
day are the " Refuge " and the " Five Precepts " (see pp. 345 and 348
above.) Although these are recited in Pali, their meaning, according to
Mr. Maung Tha Kin, is pretty generally understood by the common peo
ple. Hence we may suppose that the recitation, especially of the Five
Precepts, exerts some real moral influence upon the life of the modern
Buddhist. See Mr. Kin's paper on " The Profession of Faith " in the
Buddhist Review for April -June, 1915. 3»3

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
the subjective view of prayer — an effort to retain the sub
jective view and at the same time get the advantages of the
objective view by applying ethical and psychological categories
to the universe. The monk in Rangoon said to me: "An in
tense wish, when accompanied by an offering or by merit of
any kind, will tend to bring about its own satisfaction, — either
in this life or in another. This is plainly true of spiritual things
— as the desire for purity or peace. But it is also true of physi
cal and worldly things. Thus, if I desire wealth and pray for
it, accompanying my prayer with an offering to the Buddha
(for this is a way of acquiring merit), my desire is likely to be
satisfied in this life or another."
I think this theory of prayer is the one most commonly held
by the intelligent monk. The Buddhist is persuaded that this
is essentially a moral universe; a universe in which the law of
Karma — which is a moral rather than a merely physical law —
reigns supreme. A good act, he is persuaded, can never fail
of its reward, nor an evil one of its punishment — except, of
course, in the sense that the two may balance each other as
debits and credits in the cash account of the universe. He is
certain that the Buddha cannot hear or answer prayer, yet,
on the other hand, he is equally sure that prayer and offering
to the Buddha are infallible means of acquiring merit and will
be imputed to him for righteousness, and that this righteous
ness can in no wise lose its reward. Hence the prayer or recita
tion of the sacred text must have a value and a power of its
own ; it must work automatically and start forces going in the
universe which will in their own good time have the desired
effect upon his destiny.
It may very well seem odd to the reader that, in all these
pages which I have already devoted to Buddhism, not a word
has been said of what undoubtedly is the very heart of the,
Buddha's teaching — the "Four Noble Truths" of sorrow and
salvation. This omission, or rather delay, has been quite
intentional; for the Four Noble Truths, though fundamental
in the philosophy of Buddhism, play a less important part in
the religion of the people than do prayers and offerings, hopes /
and moral customs. But the Four Noble Truths are of great
indirect importance even to the popular religion, and must be
384

THE DOCTRINES OF MODERN BUDDHISM
dealt with carefully before we can understand Buddhism or
form a just opinion as to its value.
The First Noble Truth was expressed by Gautama himself
in the following words: "Birth is suffering, old age is suffering,
disease is suffering, death is suffering: painful is it to be joined
to that which we do not like: painful is separation from that
which we do like. In brief: all the five Aspects of Existence are
suffering." x The repeated emphasis laid upon the fact of suf
fering in the discourses of the Buddha, and the fidelity with
which his teaching of it has been handed on and imitated, have
given Buddhism the reputation of being the most pessimistic
of religions. Buddhists who read European books on their
religion are becoming to-day very sensitive, not to say touchy,
on this subject. You may criticize Buddhism to a Buddhist on
other points, but it is best not to tell him that his religion is
pessimistic. Buddhism, we are assured, is in truth the most
optimistic of religions. It merely points out the undoubted facts
of sorrow which every religion and every philosophy must rec
ognize, and then it goes on to show the way of escape. I cull
the following sentences from an article in the "Buddhist Re
view" for June, 1912, entitled "The Optimism of Buddhism":
"Buddhism recognizes sorrow, recognizes evil, but it does not
say, 'Blessed are the sorrowful.' It teaches that sorrow and
evil are things to be recognized, but also to be grappled with
and escaped from. It does not teach that man is but a worm,
that his troubles and trials are a rod sent for the purposes of
chastisement and that if he would know true happiness he must
kiss the rod. . . . Buddhism is a religion not of passivity but
of activity, and it is a continual endeavor to escape from evil.
. . . Buddhism is opposed to pessimism, the gospel of feeble
ness and failure, at every step of the way." 2
All this is undoubtedly true. Buddhism recognizes the evils
of life only that it may arouse us to save ourselves from them.
It is a religion of activity and effort and courage, not one of
weakness and surrender. And yet it must be admitted that
there is more ground for the common view of the pessimistic
1 From Sutta 22 of the Digha Nikaya.
J See also another article to the same effect by "Captain Enriquez,
F.R.G.S.," in the Buddhist Review for December, 1914.
385

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
nature of Buddhism than the above quotation would imply.
Buddhism is founded upon a recognition of the sorrows of life
in a way that no other religion is.1 It was not by chance, but
as a result of very logical thinking, that the Buddha began his
first sermon — and many another sermon — with the Noble
Truth of Suffering which I have quoted above. It is necessary
to realize that life is very evil — much more evil than good —
if you are to be converted to Buddhism. This is fundamental,
for without this realization you will have no wish for the sal
vation which the Buddha offers. "One thing only," said he to
his disciples, — "one thing only do I make known: suffering
and deliverance from suffering." And a recent writer in the
"Buddhist Review" adds: "The question of deliverance from
suffering seems to the Buddha of such great, of such command
ing importance for the welfare of all beings that, in the last
analysis, he considers this problem the only one really worthy
of solution." 2
And this view of the sorrow of life is so fundamental in the
Buddha's teaching that it has colored the professional Bud
dhist world. Nearly all the monks with whom I talked assured
me that life was very dreary and existence necessarily sorrow
ful, and that they would like to be rid of it and enter Nirvana.
When it is remembered that a large proportion of these monks
consider Nirvana to be equivalent to absolute death, it will
be seen that their view of life is hardly optimistic. The con
fession of the boy in Rangoon concerning his views of life and
Nirvana, recited a few pages back, should be recalled in this
connection. Neither the Burmese nor the Singhalese are nat
urally a melancholy race, but the monks have learned from
Buddhism that they should at least try to regard the world as
1 One of the most enthusiastic of Buddhist converts, Paul Dahlke, writes:
"For the Buddhist, the highest is something quite different from what it
is for the adherent of another religion. The Buddhist's goal is not heaven,
union with any deity; it is freedom from pain. Only in Buddhism does the
conception of freedom from pain remain purely a negative thing. Buddhism
is the only one among all the religions of the world that is based upon nega
tion, yea, is negation. Hence it has value solely for such as seek the door
out of life: in fact, Buddhism is nothing else but the way to this door."
(Buddhist Essays, pp. 47-48.)
s Nyana Tiloka, "The Quintessence of Buddhism," Buddhist Review for
January, 1914. 386

THE DOCTRINES OF MODERN BUDDHISM
bad and its pleasures worthless and cultivate a taste for Nir
vana. An interesting light was shed on the matter for me by
one of the Mandalay monks, who, when I asked whether he
really thought life so very evil and really longed for the non
existence of Nirvana, replied: "Yes, I do during meditation.
I then realize the evil of life and long to be free of it. But at
other times, — when conversing or eating, for instance, — I
forget what I realized in meditation. At such times life seems
good and I don't want to give it up; and so for a time I become
a bad Buddhist."
Buddhism differs from other religions in its view of life, not
in recognizing the presence of evil, but in insisting that all ,
change and impermanence are evil, and that therefore our
changing existence is necessarily and thoroughly bad. Not
only is sorrow bad in itself, but pleasure is not really good,
even while it lasts, because it cannot last forever. It ends in
sorrow and life ends in death. He who is a mere creature of
circumstance, passing from temporary pleasure to loss and
grief, tossed about at the mercy of his emotions and never
the master of them, is surely a pitiful figure. Is there no refuge
from sorrow that one can count on; no method of escape that
depends not on external chance but on ourselves?
The Buddha goes at the question as no other founder of a
religion ever did. His method and spirit are essentially scien
tific. He appeals to no supernatural power, and makes use of
no blind faith. Instead of this he asks first of all, What are
the symptoms of our common disease? and secondly, What is
the cause of these symptoms? And the answer to this second
question he announces in the Second Noble Truth. The cause
of suffering is always desire. We are unhappy because we have
not got — and cannot get — what we want. There is no doubt
that this conclusion of his was at first an empirical judgment,
and that in a very great many cases it can be tested and veri
fied by an appeal to experience. But experience cannot verify
it in all cases. How, for instance, shall I explain an inherited
and painful disease as the result of desire? If, indeed, I could
cease to desire to get rid of pain, pain would cease to be an
evil. But even so the pain antedated the desire, hence cannot
have been caused by it. Yet Gautama believed that his formula
387

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
would apply to such cases as this also, and that even here de
sire was the ultimate cause of the pain. The disease, he said,
is due to the man's desire and ignorance in a previous existence.
Thus, without realizing the fact, he mingled an adopted Brah-
manical belief with his own empirical discovery.
The Third Noble Truth makes the obvious application of
the second — namely, that by overcoming desire we may avoid
sorrow — and extends this obvious application by asserting
(again in part upon the strength of the prevalent Indian doc
trine of Karma) that continued rebirth may be prevented by
killing out the will-to-live, which is at the basis of all our ills.
The most important part of the Buddha's doctrine, however,
was always that relating to this life, and based upon his own
empirical discovery. "The Bhagava has well preached the
Dhamma, productive of immediate results in this Ufe, of im
mediate results that can be pointed out to any one by asking
him to come and see." 1
The method by which we may kill out desire and the will-to-
live, and rid ourselves of the three great fetters of lust, anger,
and spiritual blindness, is given in detail in the Fourth Noble
Truth, called also the Noble Eightfold Path. This is in fact a
method of mental training, a systematic manner of life which
if diligently followed will gradually weed out the worldly
wishes, and substitute for the hot desire after personal enjoy
ment the calm, self-possessed character of the man who is his
own master and may laugh at Fate, just because he has learned
to despise all the slings and arrows of outrageous Fortune.
This is the Buddhist method of salvation; this was the
Buddha's great discovery. He came to it, a Buddhist friend of
mine suggests, by a knowledge of child psychology. For years
he had been searching for peace and freedom from the power
of fortune. He had tried religion with its ceremonies and
prayers and faith, he had tried philosophy, and he had tried
asceticism. All had failed. Then, casting his thoughts back
over the course of his life, he asked himself when in the whole
of it he had been really without care. And he saw that his one
really free and happy time had been as a young child. Then,
analyzing out of the child's mental condition that element
1 Anguttara Nikaya, m, II, 40.
388

THE DOCTRINES OF MODERN BUDDHISM
which determined its freedom from care, he saw that this was
its lack of self-consciousness and individuality. The baby does
not say, "This is mine! I own that! I plan thus and so!" And
hence it is at peace.
Whether the Buddha ever went through any such course of
thought as my friend suggests, he certainly beHeved — as his
orthodox followers do to-day — that the obstacle to real self-
mastery and perfect peace, as well as the source of most sor
row and most sin, is to be found in the over-emphasis upon the
ego. " 'Tis self whereby we suffer." l The man who has learned
to deny himself, to put aside all egoistic aims, and to look down
upon all personal pleasures, is the man who may snap his fin
gers at Fate, because he has found a peace which the world
can never give nor take away. "To understand that, after
all, it is the individuality, with its wants and desires opposed
to those of other individualities, which causes all suffering in
the world, that therefore the striving for individual happiness
is according to its very nature wrong, and that it is best to
relinquish it voluntarily — that is to take a great step, yea,
the greatest, on the road to true knowledge."2 "The craving
for life is the worst of all diseases," says the Dhammapada,
"individuality is the greatest of all evils. He who knows this
truly sees in Nirvana the highest bliss." It was for this reason
that the Buddha laid so much stress on what would seem a
purely academic question, the non-existence of a substantial
self. The self we love in self-love is only a delusion, and from
this delusion, this ignorance, springs all our woe. He whose
eyes have been opened to the truth sees that the so-called
' ' self " is a mere stream of passing and perishing psycho-physical
phenomena; and there being for him no more delusion of self,
all selfish interests with their feverish brood of desires, disap
pointments, sins, and sorrows vanish away, and only the great
Peace, with its new kind of joy that cannot wane, is left behind.
It will thushe'evident that the salvation which the Buddha
offers is different in kind from that which the followers of
most other religions seek after. It is not a life of happiness in
1 Cf. Rhys-Davids's admirable adaptation of Symonds's lines, in Bud
dhism (American Lectures, Putnam, 1904), p. 152.
* Subhadra Bhikshu's Buddhist Catechism, p. 69.
389

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
some distant heaven that we are to go to after we die; it is a
new character that may be won here and now. We all know
the two types of people whom the Buddha would recognize
as the lost and the saved. One clings to life and its pleasure,
hot with desires, lusting and robust, perhaps, or it may be even
sickly, but always desiring, greedy of good things, filled with
will and self-assertion ; the other quiet, seeking little or nothing,
ready for anything, with no intense pains, pleasures, or long
ings, neither wishing for life nor fearing death. To change from
the first type to the second is the Buddha's way of salvation.
And it is not merely the way of salvation: it is salvation itself.
The new character acquired through the long course of self-
training outlined in the Noble Eightfold Path means peace
and freedom from care and an equipoise of mind which bid
defiance to the thousand frets of ordinary life. Gautama may
be said to have anticipated the "Don't worry cure": and his
message and method might come as a great boon to our hus- >
tling and neurotic age. The common expression, "Blessed be
nothing," the Buddha meant quite literally. If you have noth
ing and want nothing you will be blessed. For sorrow comes
just from having and wanting. In all literalness, it is easier
for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich
man to enter the Buddhist Nirvana. But if you give up all
your possessions and all thought of ever having any and cut
all the ties that bind you to this world, there will be little left
to sorrow or worry over. Don't be afraid, says the Buddha,
for there is really nothing worth fearing. The only thing worthy
of fear is slavery; and you may break your own bonds if you
only will.
"In him who has intercourse with others affections arise,
and then the pain which follows affection: considering the
misery that originates in affection, let one wander alone like
a rhinoceros. "Seeing bright golden bracelets, well-wrought by the gold
smith, striking against each other when there are two on one
arm, let one wander alone like a rhinoceros.
"Thus, if I join myself with another I shall swear or scold:
considering this danger in future, let one wander alone like a
rhinoceros. 390

THE DOCTRINES OF MODERN BUDDHISM
"The sensual pleasures, indeed, which are various, sweet,
charming, under their different shapes agitate the mind : seeing
the misery originating in sensual pleasures, let one wander
alone like a rhinoceros.
" Without covetousness, without deceit, without craving, with-
outdistractions, having got ridof passionand folly, being free from
desire in all the world, let one wander alone like a rhinoceros.
"Not adorning himself, not looking out for sport, amuse
ment, and the delight of pleasure in the world, being loath of a
life of dressing, speaking the truth, let one wander alone like a
rhinoceros. "Having left son and wife, father and mother, wealth and
corn and relatives and the different objects of desire, let one
wander alone like a rhinoceros.
"Like a lion not trembling at noises, like the wind not caught
in a net, like a lotus not stained by water, let one wander alone
like a rhinoceros." 1
There is much that is fine in this ideal; and I for one can
seldom write or speak of it without catching some of the Bud
dhist's enthusiasm. But we must be serious with it and not
blink its implications. One cannot wander alone like a rhi
noceros and at the same time bide at home and act as beast of
burden for the world. The ties that bind man most closely and
that lay him most open to the slings and arrows of outrageous
fortune, are often not his pleasant vices and his selfish wishes,
but his family, his friends, his country, the cause which he
serves. Gautama named his only child "Rahula" — a fetter;
and in the Dhammapada he is reported to have said: "The
wise man does not regard chains or ropes as fetters, but riches,
honor, wife and child, — all that draws him down to a worldly
life. Therefore he leaves all these with their sorrows and joys
and goes forth into solitude." A monk near Kandy who was
very learned in his religion said to my wife: "I have a mother
and father, brothers and sisters, but I leave them all to them
selves so as to think only of my salvation. I have to think
of my salvation only and not of other people's. You have a
mother and father, brothers and sisters? Leave them all to
1 The Sutta Nipata (translated by FausbSll) in. S.B.E., vol. x. (Ox
ford, Clarendon Press, 1881.) 391

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
themselves, do not think about them, but think only of your
own salvation. They are ties that bind you to this world."
That this was the point of view of many of the early monks
comes out plainly in Mrs. Rhys-Davids's recent translation
of the Theregathas. Many of the monks who composed these
interesting "Psalms" glory in the fact that they have deserted
their wives and children in order to win peace for themselves.
And one of them writes thus: "I have vomited forth all de
sires, loves, hates, and things of beauty. For no one else have
I done this: it is only for myself I acted thus." l
I do not think that Gautama would have approved of these
monks, modern and ancient; but I think their attitude is quite
consistent with this part of his teaching. Give no pledges to
Fortune is the essence of it. And from this it must inevitably
follow that it is folly to adopt the interests of others in such
fashion as ever to be in danger of sharing in their grief or caring
for their loss. Desire is the cause of sorrow and deliverance
from sorrow is the great aim. The wise man may be helpful
to others, — should be helpful, for thus he will acquire merit
for himself, — but he will keep his distance and never allow
his affections to become involved nor imperil his peace by
sharing their interests. He will retain always the stoical atti
tude of mind. He may enter into various helpful activities
and have various relations with his fellows, but he will do this
in such fashion as always to be able to take philosophically
whatever happens. He must never love in such a way as to
be disturbed by the death or the misery of the loved one. He
may participate in a great cause, but only on condition of re
taining complete indifference to its success or failure. Indif
ference and detachment are his great sources of strength and
his never-failing armor against sorrow. "Ascending the high
tower of wisdom, the wise man gazes sorrowless upon the sor
rowing crowd below; wise himself, he looks upon the fools as
one on a mountain-peak upon dwellers in the valley. ... 0
joy, in joy we dwell amongst the sickly full of health. In very
bliss we dwell serene amidst the careworn." 2
1 Psalms of the Early Buddhists. Part n, Psalms of the Brethren. (Ox
ford, 1913.)
2 Dhammapada, 28, 198, 199. My quotations from the Dhammapada
392

THE DOCTRINES OF MODERN BUDDHISM
There is thus something unquestionably selfish about Bud
dhist salvation. Against selfishness of the cruder type Buddhism
makes unending war; yet this war is prompted by another and
subtler kind of selfishness. It denies the existence of the ego,
yet its motive force in seeking release from the world is a kind
of enlightened egoism.
But if I should stop here I should do Buddhism great in
justice. For Buddhism teaches a genuine unselfishness and self-
forgetfulness with no arribre pensee of the main chance in this
world or any other. And more important still, this teaching is
illustrated by one of the most noble, perfect, and long-contin
ued examples of unselfish service that history and tradition
have to record. Whatever we are to think of the assertion in
the sacred books that, immediately upon his enlightenment,
the Evil One tempted Gautama to enter at once into Nirvana
taking his new-won insight with him, and that the Blessed One
preferred to defer Nirvana and its joys for many weary years,
so that he might instead return to this sad world and give his
message to mankind, certain it is that he spent the remainder
of his days in loving service to all, within his reach and with no
thought of reward or escape from sorrow on his part. Jesus'
life lasted thirty-three years and his active teaching-mission
only three; but for upwards of forty-five years the Buddha
was laboring at the spread of his gospel of peace, and when
his hah was white and his eyes were dim and his back was bent
with the weight of eighty years, he was still plodding on over
the dusty plains of India, eager as ever to save one more soul
from the burden of sin and sorrow. The traditions of the Mas
ter may not be accepted in their details, but there can be no
doubt that we have the very spirit of the man and the ideal
which he most earnestly inculcated upon his followers in the
saying that he could look back over five hundred previous
births, and that in each one of them he had given up his life
for the benefit of some other creature. And his teaching no less
than his practice expresses this all-absorbing love. I cannot
are usually taken either from Max Miiller's translation (S.B.E., vol. x) or
from the translation by Wagiswara and Saunders (The Buddha's Way of
Virtue, New York, Dutton, 1912); though sometimes I have availed my
self of versions by other scholars. 393

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
here refrain from quoting again his great command to his dis
ciples : " Go ye, O Bhikkhus," the Vinaya Pitaka reports him as
saying, — "go ye and wander forth for the gain of the many,
the welfare of the many, in compassion for the world, for the
good, for the gain, for the welfare of gods and men. Proclaim,
O Bhikkhus, the doctrine glorious, preach ye a life of holiness,
perfect and pure."
How can we reconcile this teaching and this example of the
Buddha with his doctrine of salvation from sorrow? In truth
I do not think we can. The two views are essentially irrecon
cilable. And it is their innate irreconcilability and at the same
time their inextricable interweaving throughout the teachings
of Buddhism that make the philosophy of Buddhism so diffi
cult to grasp. In a long discussion with a most able Buddhist
thinker I once pointed out this inconsistency in Buddhist
doctrine and at length made him see and even admit it. And
then he quoted and translated to me some Pali verses in which
Gautama says of his doctrine that it is deep, hard to be under
stood, and not logical. There are, in fact, as it seems to me,
three distinct elements in Buddhism which originated quite
independently, but which have been interwoven in such fashion
that it is extremely difficult to distinguish them. One of these
is the Brahmanical, — the set of beliefs which Gautama either
took for granted from the common beliefs of his time, or
adopted into his teaching as a kind of recognition of the weak
ness of the flesh in his disciples. The great example of the
former of these is the belief in rebirth and Karma, which he
himself accepted and made much of. The various teachings
about heaven and hell, the acquisition of merit and the value
of various external acts, — these very likely appealed less to
Gautama than to his followers. But in any case they were sim
ply adopted from Brahmanism and became intertwined more
or less closely with what may be called the second element in
Buddhism — namely, Gautama's own original doctrine, the
Four Noble Truths, based upon direct experience of sorrow,
sorrow's cause, and the purely psychical way of escape. Be
sides these two elements there was a third, namely, Gautama's
own great sympathetic heart, his unselfish devotion and desire
to serve and save his fellows. The attempt is usually made to
394

THE DOCTRINES OF MODERN BUDDHISM
expound Buddhism as if all of it followed from the Four Noble
Truths. To do this successfully is really impossible, because
much that is of importance in Buddhist morality and philoso
phy comes from the two other sources. Thus, for example,
how is the First Precept — not to kill — to be derived from
the enlightened egoism of the Four Noble Truths? There is
no reason why one who has broken all the bonds, including
human sympathy, should not take life with impunity. The
real basis for this precept is to be found in Buddha's wide-
reaching love for all sentient creatures, combined with the
general Indian belief in future existence and the acquisition
of merit.1 Further examples of this inconsistency might be
given, and even instances in which the logical consequences
of the Four Noble Truths are at war with the real desire for
service which characterized not only the Buddha but many of
his disciples. The first great outbreak of this smouldering in
consistency came when Northern Buddhism gave up as its
ideal the Arahat who attains and enters Nirvana, and substi
tuted for him the Bodhisat who deliberately surrenders Nir
vana in order to be reborn endlessly and serve his fellows. The
same struggle between the two inconsistent ideals within Bud
dhism is flaming out again to-day, the monks holding to the
egoistic aim, the new movement of reform among the laymen
holding up the ideal of service. The monks have the advan
tage of overwhelming numbers; but the reformers have the
newer spirit of the age upon their side. The outcome of the
struggle will be decisive for Buddhism. For no man and no
religion can permanently serve two masters.
1 In fact this exact precept of "ahimsa" (harmlessness) is to be found in
the Brahmanical literature of Gautama's time.-

CHAPTER XIX
THE VALUE OF BUDDHISM AND ITS SPRINGS OF POWER
IT is always very much easier for the theologian to estimate
the value of a given religion than for the psychologist or
historian. The problem for the former is simple : he has only
to analyze the beliefs of the religion in question, compare them
with the doctrines of his own authoritative and infallible
creed, and so point out its grain of truth and its mass of error.
The student of the history or of the psychology of religion is
unable to do this, because he is not in possession of any such
infallible and authoritative creed. Hence, much as he may
envy and admire the theologian, he is forced to follow a hum
bler and more difficult method. What, he must first ask him
self, are the values of religion in general which a merely human
science can verify? And secondly, How far does the religion in
question possess these values? The writer of this book is un
fortunately no theologian, and in seeking to estimate the value
of Buddhism will be forced to fall back on the more complex
and less ambitious method of the psychologist of religion.
Hence the only results he can hope to attain will not only be
forever open to correction, but even if accepted as true will
possess merely secondary importance. For the questions with
which this chapter is to deal have to do not with the tran
scendental truth of Buddhism, but only with its human and
humanly verifiable values.
What, then, are the values of religion from a merely psycho
logical point of view? Various analyses of them might be
made, but for our purposes perhaps the simplest and most
useful classification may be based upon and derived from the
classic division of mental powers into knowing, feeling, and
willing. Religion, since (as a psychological phenomenon) it
involves the whole mind and is not confined to any one divi
sion of it, must have to do with all three of these. And the
value of any given religion may be judged, from the psycholo-
396

THE VALUE OF BUDDHISM
gist's point of view, by the question, How is it related to
human knowledge, to human happiness, and to human con
duct? What, then, first of all, are the bearings of Buddhism on
human knowledge, such as science and history? How far are
its teachings in conformity with known truth, and what is its
relation to the discovery of further truth? The question is
extremely complicated, but we shall simplify it to a consider
able extent if we abstract from the various modifications that
the teaching of the Buddha has undergone and confine our
attention to the Buddhism of the ancient sacred books, —
i.e., to the teachings of Gautama himself so far as they are
reported. The most obvious and most striking characteristic of Bud
dhism in its relation to science is the extreme operme.$s.oJLmin,d
that follows necessarily from the Buddhist position. The Bud
dhist has no infallible authority which must be consulted before
he may listen to the scientist. He has no pope who may make
definitions ex cathedra of faith and morals, no church councils
with power to decree the truth, no supernaturally inspired
book that cannot err. If he remains faithful to the spirit and
admonitions of the Buddha, he has but one guide, which he
must always follow no matter where she leads; and this guide
is his own reason. A searcher after truth, named Kesaputto,
once came to the Buddha and said : " Master, every priest and
i monk extols his belief as the only true one and condemns that
of others as false. I am troubled by doubts. I do not know
whom to believe." The Buddha answered: "Thy doubts are
well founded, O Kesaputto. Listen well to my words: Do not
believe anything on mere hearsay; do not believe traditions
because they are old and handed down through many genera
tions; do not believe anything on account of rumors or because
people talk much about it; do not believe simply because the
written testimony of some ancient sage is shown to thee;
never believe anything because presumption is in its favor, or
because the custom of many years leads thee to regard it as
true; do not believe anything on the mere authority of thy
teachers or priests. Whatever according to thine own experi
ence and after thorough investigation agrees with thy reason,
397

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
and is conducive to thine own weal and to that of all other
living beings, that accept as truth and live accordingly." '
This absolute reliance on reason and experience, coupled
with a complete disregard for mere authority, is characteristic
of all Gautama's teaching. There is a modern note in his
words and his attitude that comes to us through these twenty-
five hundred years with something like a shock of surprise
and which differentiates his religion from all others. He alone
of founders and prophets turned away from all supernatural
sources of knowledge and attempted to think the thing out for
himself, and to recommend his doctrine to others only because
it was scientifically verifiable by an appeal to experience.
This was possible to him in part because his teaching had
nothing to say of the hypothesis of a personal Creator or a
personal Providence. How the world came into being was not
his problem, and he insistently refused to commit himself upon
it. And this atheism, this lack of the mystical element in his
religion, which has been so long used as a reproach to it, has
become to-day a further recommendation in the eyes of many
a modern thinker. For science is atheistic in exactly the same
sense as is Buddhism. Neither of them pretends to know how
the world came into being; both are agnostic and silent on this
point. And both turn away from ultimate problems like this
to center their attention, in positivist fashion, on the phenom
enal world, the world that is verifiable in human experience
and has direct and obvious bearing upon human actions and
human weal and woe. If a supernatural realm exists, science
cannot see it, and the Buddha (when we confine our attention
to the purest form of his doctrine) will not see it. When urged
by one of his followers to perform a miracle in order to convert
certain non-believers, the Buddha replied: "I despise and re
ject the miracles of magic power and divination. I and my dis
ciples gain adherents only by the miracle of instruction." 2
The parenthetical clause which I inserted above is of some
importance. We may say that Buddhism makes no appeal
1 Anguttara Nikaya, quoted in Subhadra's Buddhist Catechism.
2 From the Digha Nikaya, quoted on page 71 of the Buddhist Catechism.
One should add, however, that the Buddhist books are full of miraculous
happenings and picture the Buddha as believing himself and his followers
to be in possession of marvelous powers. 398

THE VALUE OF BUDDHISM
to miraculous agencies, superstition, and mythology; but we
may say this provided only we confine our attention to the
purest form of Buddhist doctrine. If we take the Buddhism of
the Pitakas as a whole, we shall find this pure doctrine inter
woven with as large a growth of supernatural stories and fan
ciful science as is to be found in most other religions. And
even if we take refuge in so modern and generally accepted
a book as Colonel Olcott's "Catechism," we shall find most
of Part V given over to a defense of the "occult" in Bud
dhist legend and a (successful) attempt to show that all the
miracles and wonders of Buddhism are in accord with "mod
em science." It is needless to add that the "modern science"
to which the Colonel makes appeal is of the usual Theosoph
ical variety. Hence, here again it is extremely important to
distinguish clearly the three elements of Buddhism pointed
out in the last chapter. If we confine our attention to those
teachings which come from the Four Noble Truths or from
Buddha's love for his fellows, we shall be in no danger of
getting involved in the magical and fanciful. But a large part
of the teachings of the Pitakas comes from what I have called
the Brahmanical source; and the most enthusiastic Buddhist
apologist will be unable to deny that this contains .much
that is unscientific if not highly fanciful. All the supernatural
part of the Pitakas is, indeed, taken only symbolically to
day by modern Buddhists of Western education; and it is
quite probable that Gautama would thoroughly approve of
their actions. These supernatural tales sprang up out of the
popular soil in which Buddhism grew, and have clung about
the story of the Master's birth and life quite naturally and in
evitably: but they are altogether distinct and very different
in tone from those teachings of the sacred books which most
clearly came from him. Hence we shall be justified in abstract
ing from them altogether in our efforts to get at the real
essence of Buddhism. But unfortunately by no means all the
teachings of the Pitakas which are out of harmony with mod
em science can be so easily disposed of. Gautama certainly had
a science of his own which he took from the Indian science of
his day and wove into his system. What are we to do with this?
Take, for instance, Buddhist cosmology with its many Kalpas,
399

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
its long periods of degeneration and its rhythmically recur
ring destructions and regrowths of the world. It is evident
that the Buddha believed in this or something very like it. Or,
more important still, take Buddhist psychology. Every mod
ern Buddhist will tell you (and I quote the words of one) that
"Buddha was the Supreme Master of psychology." x Are we,
then, to accept his psychology with its five "Khandas" (body,
sensation, perception, discrimination, and consciousness); its
list of sense organs (eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind) ; its
twelve "Nidanas," and all its other details, taken over as they
were from the psychology of 600 B.C.?2 One must, in short,
take this question seriously. It is easy to say that the Buddha
is the supreme master of psychology; but if one adopts his
psychology one must reject modern psychology. One cannot
play fast and loose with these things, and run with the hounds
and with the hares at the same time.
It is possible, of course, to reject the Buddha's cosmology
and his psychology, together with the supernatural references
of the Pitakas; but even after this one will still find on one's
hands a large part of the Buddha's inheritance from Brah
manism of which it will not be so easy to get rid, because it
is more intimately interwoven with the rest of his teaching.
What, for instance, shall one say of rebirth, Karma, "Pari
nirvana," the imperishable nature of "merit," and inevitable
retribution for all deeds according to their moral quality?
These beliefs, let us admit, are on a different footing from
1 The Maha Bodhi and United Buddhist World, for February, 1914.
2 Psychology has an unusually important place in the theory of Bud
dhism and permeates a large part of its literature. In some Buddhist psy
chology there is a good deal of insight into the life of the mind. Perhaps
its chief interest for the Western psychologist is to be found in its classi
fications and divisions of mental phenomena, so strikingly different from
our own. Buddhist psychology is very technical, and great importance is
given to exact terminology; a Buddhist psychologist will usually refuse to
discuss psychological questions with you at all unless you adopt his terms
and categories. But in spite of their careful distinctions Buddhists never
seem able to distinguish sharply between psychology, metaphysics, and
ethics, the two latter being usually mixed up in all their treatments of
mental phenomena. The reader will find a good deal of psychology in
nearly all their sacred books and in the treatises of their scholars. A handy
little work on the subject is Mrs. Rhys-Davids's Buddhist Psychology
(London, Bell & Sons, 1914). 4OO

THE VALUE OF BUDDHISM
those mentioned above. They are not inconsistent — or at
least not so obviously inconsistent — with modem science. It
is quite possible that they are true, and they involve a faith in
the moral nature of the universe which is very noble. But
are they scientific and verifiable? To judge by the writings of
many modern Buddhist apologists — especially Western Pali
scholars who have given up Christianity and like to call them
selves Buddhists — one would suppose that among other ad
vantages over Christianity, Islam, and the rest, Buddhism
alone among religions possesses no metaphysical postulates,
makes no appeal to blind faith, and is altogether verifiable.
Paul Dahlke, for instance, writes : —
"In religions founded upon a revelation, belief in certain
supernatural occurrences is indispensable for one to be able
truly to call one's self an adherent of the religion. Hence if
my understanding will not permit me to accept the dogmas
of Christianity, — if the pains with which it threatens and the
problems with which it seeks to allure are to me empty words,
then, in spite of the strictest obedience of the behests of moral
ity, I am not a Christian. . . . On the other hand, it is not
necessary to believe in order to be a Buddhist. Here belief is
dethroned and replaced by knowledge and by understanding.
... In Buddhism faith is purely the product of knowledge:
it is mathematical certainty pure and simple." 1
It would be interesting to see how the doctrine of rebirth
would fare if "belief" were to be altogether "dethroned and
replaced by knowledge and by understanding"; and to learn
how the absolute justice of Karma is to be demonstrated as a
"mathematical certainty pure and simple." Or what shall
we say of such a universally accepted Buddhist belief as the
following: "The unsatisfied desire for things that belong to the
state of personal existence in the material world is a force and
has creative power in itself so strong that it draws the being
back into mundane life." 2 Is this a fact of science which has
been verified? Does its acceptance demand nothing in the
nature of faith?
It is, of course, natural that those bom and brought up
in Buddhist lands should take beliefs such as these quite for
1 Op. cit., pp. 44-45. s Colonel Olcott's Buddhist Catechism.
401

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
granted and should hardly think of questioning or analyzing
them. But it is a little odd to see Europeans, trained in West
ern modes of thought, renouncing Christianity for Buddhism
and proclaiming that they do so because Buddhism requires
no faith. As a matter of fact, they are not exchanging belief
for "mathematical certainty"; they are giving up faith in the
cosmology of the Hebrews in the first century of our era only
to substitute for it a faith in the cosmology of the Hindus in
the sixth century B.C.
After all this has been said, however, it must be admitted
that Buddhism occupies a peculiarly favorable position in re
lation to modern science and the advance of thought and
knowledge generally. This is due to its fundamental principles
already cited, which make reason and verifiable experience
supreme, and authority as such of very slight importance. The
Pitakas have a very different position in Buddhism from that
of the Bible in Christianity, the Vedas in Hinduism, or the
Koran in Islam. The Pitakas are authoritative in the way that
Euclid is authoritative; not in the sense of Moses, the Rishis,
and Mohammed. The modern Buddhist regards his sacred
books with great reverence and goes to them repeatedly for
instruction: but he considers them true because he finds them
reasonable and (to the extent of his researches) verifiable. His
reason never abdicates its throne, and he could not comprehend
how any one could seriously say, " Credo quia impossibile."
Hence, toward the unverifiable elements that have become
interwoven with the Buddhist doctrine, the modern Buddhist
may choose between two attitudes, both of which are at the
same time consistent with science and consistent with the
spirit and the principles of the Buddha. He may reject some
of the Brahmanistic elements and retain others — such as
Karma and the ultimate morality of the universe — on faith,
as being not indeed verifiable, but at least not inconsistent
with science. Or, if he prefers, he may give up all the Brah
manistic elements of Buddhism and take as his religion only
the Four Noble Truths and the altruistic teachings of the
Buddha; and these, of course, can never be inconsistent with
science, and, so far as they demand verification at all, are
"thoroughly verifiable. 402

THE VALUE OF BUDDHISM
This flexibility of Buddhism certainly gives it a very great
intellectual advantage over all other religions as they are com
monly understood and practiced to-day. I do not say that
they give it an advantage over the Christianity of the Gospels;
but Christianity has had an historical development which has
deprived it of much of that flexibility which its founder meant
his teachings to possess. It is with something like a shock that
one turns from the words of the Buddha to some orthodox
Protestant work on the "Plan of Salvation," with its neat
cosmic scheme and its anthropomorphic conceptions of the
First, Second, and Third Persons of the Trinity; or to a Catho
lic treatise on the "Infallibility of the Pope," or the necessity
of infant baptism. And if we Christians allow our Christianity
to be permanently identified with dogmas like these, we must
not be surprised if our missionaries have but ill success in
Burma and Ceylon, and if every year a few more of our learned
men announce their conversion to Buddhism and spread the
tidings over the Orient that Christianity is dead.
One of the great prerequisites for a religion that is to live
and to serve mankind for long is its ability to grow and to
adapt itself to the changing needs and the changing intellectual
environments of successive ages. And its free attitude toward
authority gives Buddhism this advantage in a preeminent
degree. If its leaders know how to utilize this advantage they
will have reason to be very hopeful for the future of their reli
gion. Its purified form will probably appeal only to the few.
But there will always be a few to whom its appeal will be ex
ceedingly strong. Its very atheism will be a source of strength
as well as of weakness. For while the great majority of man
kind will doubtless always feel the need of a personal super
natural power, there will always be some who do not feel this
need and to whom the mystical makes no appeal. To these
the other great religions have little to offer that they can
accept. And it is well that for them there will always be open,
as a last refuge, this religion, which, while it cannot lead them
to God, can lead them to a very lofty morality, and to the
Great Peace.
To what extent can Buddhism really lead to peace and how
is this possible? What are its relations to human happiness,
403

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
and what are the springs of its power? It would seem to many
at first that Buddhism is more likely to disseminate sadness
than joy. And indeed, as I have shown (in spite of the denials
of its advocates), the result of Buddhist teaching is very
often a melancholy view of life and the destruction of many
of its innocent pleasures. Here I need only refer the reader to
what was said on this subject in a previous chapter. Life, in
deed, has many sorrows, but it also has certain real joys, such
as health, success, love. But Buddhism is always trying to
embitter these few sweet things with the thought of their inse
curity and their impermanence. The Buddhist apologists may
say what they like, but there is no denying that nearly all the
experiences which we naive Christians, Jews, Parsees, and Mo
hammedans in our ignorance call the "good things of life," are
to the Buddhist evil and to be avoided. Thus the Buddhist in
his extreme fear of sorrow — a fear which seems almost an
obsession — deliberately cuts himself off from a large number
of the positive and solid joys of life. For fear of the pains
and disappointments of ordinary social intercourse, he should
wander alone like a rhinoceros.
And not only does the Buddhist's fear of sorrow deprive him
of much of the happiness that others possess; his philosophy,
on the other hand, deprives him of the chief defenses which
other religions provide against sorrow. I refer, of course, to
the belief in a personal God, in an immortal soul, and in an
eternal life of joyful reunion with those whom one has loved,
and in the presence of God. The dying Christian is pointed to
Christ and reminded of his endless love ; for the dying Buddhist,
according to Fielding Hall, the only word of comfort is, " Think
of your own good deeds!"
It is therefore not surprising to find, as we have found, that
the pure Buddhism of Gautama had to be mingled in the
very beginning with much popular belief before it could be ac
cepted, and ever since then has been overlaid with one incrus
tation after another. And it is surely a significant fact that
wherever Buddhism has spread, one of the most inveterate
tendencies among its converts has been to transform the
Buddha himself into a god, and worship him as such. Most
human beings are more conscious of their weakness than of
404

THE VALUE OF BUDDHISM
their strength, and cry out for aid from some more than human
Power which can understand and help them. In like manner,
popular Buddhism, even of the Southern type, has to all prac
tical purposes restored the substantial self which philosophical
Buddhism banishes, and either substituted heaven for Nir
vana, made Nirvana over into a state of "eternal comfort,"
or neglected it altogether. The truth is that the ideal of peace
which the Buddhism of Gautama holds out does not appeal to
the masses. If popular Buddhism is to be reformed and put in
accord with the teachings of the founder, the people must be
taught the unpleasant tidings that the Buddha is altogether
dead and gone and there is no personal God or nat or devata
to help one; that prayer in the sense of petition is vain; that
the goal after which all should strive is non-existence ; and that
even short of Nirvana, there is no real self that survives death.
One may wish the reformers well and yet be pardoned for
questioning whether such a reformation of the popular faith
would work any increase in the happiness of the people.
Buddhism, however, has its consolation in sorrow, or rather
several different kinds of consolation. In fact, each of the
different elements of Buddhism has its own sort of comfort —
warm or cold — to offer, and he who does not like one may try
another. Thus, in the case of the loss of dear ones, the ignorant
Buddhist may hope that the Buddha will reunite him with his
beloved in the next life. He to whom Buddhism means almost
exclusively the loving service of his fellows will take comfort
in increased activity and the effort to live worthily of the one
who is gone. I met one man of this sort who had lost his father,
and who apparently did not look for comfort of any sort.
Whether he should ever meet his father again he had no idea,
and he did not think about the question. What heaven or Nir
vana might be he knew not. There might be another conscious
life and a happy one or there might not; but for his own part
he found his happiness just in doing his duty and in serving
his fellows here and now. Of course there are not many men of
this type — in Buddhism or in any other religion. But what
ever one may think of this sort of consolation, it speaks well
for Buddhism that it can occasionally produce this kind of
man. For he had drawn his inspiration from the Buddha.
405

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
The Buddhist whose religion consists of the Four Noble
Truths and the strictly Buddhist method of deliverance will
seek his consolation for the loss of friends in still a third way.
He will tell himself that death is inevitable and universal and
will get what comfort he can out of that. This is evidently the
sort of comfort that Gautama himself believed in, for it was
thus that he comforted his disciples at the prospect of his own
death. "O Ananda," he said, "have I not often declared to
thee that it is in the very nature of all things, howsoever dear
and beloved they may be to us, that we must divide ourselves
from them, leave them, sever ourselves from them? Every
thing born, brought into being, and formed, contains within
itself the inherent necessity of dissolution." Further than this,
for the consistent Buddhist every dear one lost marks a closer
approximation to one's own perfect freedom. I asked a Bud
dhist once what consolation his religion had to offer a mother
who had lost her child. He replied by telling me of a woman
of his acquaintance whose only son had recently died. At first
the woman grieved, but then she took comfort in the thought
that she had one less tie to bind her to the world.
But Buddhism has more than this negative consolation to
give. It does lead — and this is a verifiable fact — to an ex
hilarating sense of independence, of being one's own master, —
a deep and abiding peace, a spiritual freedom, which is very
real. The Buddha said of it: "Whoever hears, sees, and wel
comes with joy this methodical arrangement of the Law which
is a mine of happiness and prosperity, and honors it with folded
hands, shall attain . . . the happiness of perfect contemplation,
that deep calm of uninterrupted bliss, with his senses in the
highest perfection and illuminated by unclouded knowledge." '
And again: "He whose appetites are stilled, who is indifferent
to food, whose goal is the freedom which comes of realizing
life's emptiness and transiency, is hard to track as the flight
of birds in the sky. Even the gods envy him whose senses are
quiet as horses well tamed by the charioteer, who has renounced
self-will, and put away all taints. No more will he be born
whose patience is as the earth's, who is firm as a pillar and
1 Quoted by Dudley Wright in the Buddhist Review for April, 1912 (p.
122). 406

THE VALUE OF BUDDHISM
pious, pure as some unruffled lake. Calm is the thought, calm
the words and deeds of such a one, who has by wisdom at
tained true freedom and self-control." 1 "O joy! We live in
bliss, amongst men of hate, hating none. O joy! In bliss we
dwell, healthy among the ailing. Yea, in very bliss we dwell,
free from care amidst the careworn. In bliss we dwell possess
ing nothing; let us dwell feeding upon joy like the shining ones
in their splendor. Victory breeds hatred, for the conquered
sleeps in sorrow. He who has given up both victory and de
feat, he, the contented, is happy.2 He who has tasted the
sweetness of solitude and tranquillity is free from fear and
free from sin, while he tastes the sweetness of drinking in the
Law." 3
And while we may not be willing to go all the way with the
Buddhist, there is no doubt that his freedom from servitude
to a world of things and of egoistic desires, and most of all
from the tyranny of the self, brings a peace and a joy that the
hustling Westerner, with his materialistic ambitions and his
constant alternations of hot hopes and chilling fears, knows
nothing about. " Tis not in seeking,
'Tis not in endless striving
Thy quest is found:
Be still and listen,
Be still and drink the quiet
Of all around.
"Not in thy crying,
Not in thy loud beseeching,
Will peace draw near:
Rest with palms folded,
Rest with thine eyelids fallen —
Lo, Peace is here." '
The Buddhists of Burma and Ceylon, as a matter of fact,
impress one as a decidedly happy people and happy in their
religion. And this is true not only of the ignorant ones who
1 Dhammapada, 93-96.
8 Buddhism is thoroughly opposed to war. For a scholarly discussion of
its position and its influence on war see " Buddhism and War," by W. L.
Hare, in the Buddhist Review for January - March, 1915 (pp. 4~i7)-
' Ibid., 197-201, 205. * Edward Rowland Sill.
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INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
have made the Buddha into a god, but also of the monks and
the better-informed laymen who know quite well that Buddha
is dead and gone. Their happiness, indeed, is sedate rather
than jubilant; it is a calm and steady peace. The First Noble
Truth has, to be sure, thrown a very superficial touch of melan
choly over their lives; but on the whole they are, I repeat, a
happy people, and they seem to take real joy in their religion.
To one who has come to think of the joy of religion as spring
ing from the belief in God, and who has learned that Buddhism
is atheistic, this will come with some surprise: and such a one
may well ask what are the sources of happiness in Buddhism.
This question can hardly be answered if we stop with the
view that Buddhism is atheistic and do not go on to analyze
this atheism. It is quite true that Buddhism denies the exis
tence of "God." But while it is atheistic theoretically, it is
theistic pragmatically. It has, in fact, a very pragmatic god.
And here I have in mind not the religion of the ignorant who
pray to nats and devatas and regard Buddha himself as a kind
of god or all-powerful being who hears and answers prayers.
I refer to the Buddhism of the monks themselves. For this
orthodox Buddhist religion, the universe itself, under the guid
ance and control of the Law of Karma, takes the place of the
Christian or Mohammedan God; and as I have said, a very
pragmatic god it makes. For the pragmatist every real (and
not merely verbal) difference, every real being (and not merely
abstract term) must make a difference to some one: and the
meaning of the term "God" pragmatically will be summed
up in those things which God is conceived of as doing for us
human beings. If you want to know what God means to the be
liever, ask what things would be different to him if God should,
for him, cease to exist. What are these things that God does?
Are not the following the more important for the rank and file
of believers? (i) God is on the side of righteousness and as
sures ultimate victory to the ideal. (2) In more concrete phrase,
He rewards virtue and punishes sin. (3) He assures to the be
liever a life after the death of this body, and a life in which the
virtuous shall be rewarded and the sinful punished. (4) He
hears and answers prayer.
Now, the point I wish to make is that the universe, with its
408

THE VALUE OF BUDDHISM
Law of Karma, does for the Buddhist all these things, (i) The
Buddhist's universe is at the antipodes from that of the mate
rialist. It is a world of unfailing causal action, yes; but it is a
world in which physical laws play a very secondary r61e to moral
laws. As a man sows so shall he reap, teaches the Buddhist:
but this not at all in the sense of the natural scientist, but in
that of the moralist. Nature for him is supernaturally moral.
The universe itself is a power not ourselves that makes for
righteousness. (2) Hence it results necessarily that every vir
tuous act brings its inevitable reward, and every sin its unes-
capable punishment. (3) And in order that this may never
fail, Buddhism takes a future life of retribution quite for
granted. The "anatta" doctrine that there is no substantial
ego makes no pragmatic difference here. In heaven, hell, re
birth, or Nirvana, every man (however "man" be interpreted)
shall, in the course of ages, receive the full reward of all his
works. (4) In a very real pragmatic sense, the universe hears
and answers prayer. And here I refer to what in a previous
chapter I called the third theory of prayer and the one most
common among the monks. This orthodox Buddhist theory
of the way in which prayer is answered is different from the
Christian, but the outcome is the same. For the Christian and
Mohammedan, petitional prayer is an appeal to a conscious
Being who hears and by an act of will grants or refuses the re
quest. In Buddhist theory there is no conscious being to hear
or to will; but the universe is such that prayer has a certain
amount of power to aid in bringing about its own answer. It
is, if you like, a kind of magic. In this world in which physical
forces are decidedly secondary to moral ones, prayer itself is a
kind of force. You set it going and something is bound to re
sult. Your father is ill and you pray to Lord Buddha for his
recovery; or, better still, you have certain Pali verses chanted
by the monks in honor of the Blessed One, and you accompany
the prayer or verses with certain offerings. The Blessed One
will not hear anything that is said nor take any note of your
offerings; but these prayers and ceremonies will in themselves
tend to restore your father to health. They will not do so in
fallibly any more than the prayer of the Christian will do so,
for there are a great number of other moral forces at work and
409

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
each of them must act as a factor in the total result; but your
prayer is sure to have some effect, and it may be just enough
to tip the scale. Or, you have sinned and you pray for for
giveness or do whatever corresponds to that in the Buddhist
ritual. Your prayer is not heard and no superior being takes
pity and pardons you; but your prayer is itself a means of
acquiring merit and of counterbalancing the evil Karma which
your sin piled up. Thus in a very real sense for the Buddhist
all prayer is efficient, in spite of the fact there is no god there
to hear it.
The Law of Karma thus acts as a very pragmatic god. I
must point out, however, that the Christian God does one
thing for the Christian which Karma can never do for the
Buddhist. In enumerating above the pragmatic values of the
idea of God, I left out what to many will seem the most im
portant of all. I refer to what is called the mystic sense, or
the feeling of God's presence. For many a religious person —
for all deeply religious Christians — this sense that God is
near, that He sees and knows and understands, that He actu
ally does hear, forms the chief value of the religious life. This
is something for which the Law of Karma offers no substi
tute. Individuals who prize this personal relation to a personal
God would turn sadly away, starved and unsatisfied, if you
should tell them that the universe merely acts as if it loved
and understood. You may assure them that it will give, in this
life and the next, all that any god could give, and they will
still feel cheated of the best. To use an illustration of William
James, the difference is that between loving a woman and lov
ing a cunningly devised automaton which acts as if it loved
you and were conscious of your love. To the true lover there
could be nothing more ghastly than the discovery that his be
loved is really an unconscious machine, with no loving heart
back of its deceptive smile. Better, a thousand times better,
he will say, that I had laid her in her grave, and gone mourning
all my days, than that I should learn that she whom I loved
had really never been. And to the man with any touch of
mysticism in him nothing could be more ghastly than the
discovery that this universe, which he had taken for the gar
ment of God, for the bodily manifestation of the Great Com-
410

THE VALUE OF BUDDHISM
panion, had in reality no conscious and loving spirit at its
heart. It is the lack of this personal touch that makes the Buddhist
Karma so inferior to the Christian God in its power over men's
lives. Neither prudential considerations nor moral precepts,
nor even admiration for dead heroes and their ideals, ever grip
the heart of a man in the way that personal relations to per
sonal beings always do. And this, I think, largely explains the
undoubted inferiority of Buddhism to Christianity as a source
of happiness, and also as an inspiration for the moral life. The
relation of Buddhism to this third value of religion must now
be considered.
Different aspects of Buddhism as a moral religion were
necessarily dealt with in the preceding chapters, hence not a
great deal need be said concerning the moral value of Buddhism
here. I do, however, want to point out that the whole compli
cated question of the ethics of Buddhism becomes very much
more comprehensible if we cease to think of Buddhism as a
unitary and consistent system, and regard it instead as an
amalgam of the three quite different elements into which it
was analyzed at the close of the last chapter. Each of these
has contributed its share, and the result is that strange com
bination of the negative and the positive, the puerile and the
profound, the selfish and the noble, which makes the moral
teachings of Buddhism so difficult to understand.
The Brahmanistic preconceptions which Gautama was
forced to bring into his religion, together with various pop
ular accretions that have been added since his time, are
responsible for the "sanctions" of heaven, hell, rebirth, and
Nirvana, which have played the same large part in the life of
Buddhists through the centuries that their counterparts have
played in the life of Christians and Mohammedans. There
can be no doubt that many a Buddhist is withheld from sin
and propelled toward acts of virtue by the thought of Karma
and the hope of accumulating a goodly store of merit. On the
other hand, the modes of acquiring merit are not always intelli
gent or uplifting. In spite of the Buddha's insistence upon the
futility of merely external works, the various ceremonies at the
pagoda or in the home are thought of as having a moral value of
411

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
their own — a value often greater in merit-acquiring power
than that of works of real mercy and usefulness. The two monk-
disciples of the Hermit of Mandalay Hill told me that the merit
acquired from building a hospital was great, but far greater was
that which came from building a pagoda. And this is the com
mon view all over Burma. The Buddha, I repeat, would have
been as shocked and grieved at this view of merit as any one:
and yet I must point out that there is in the very concept of
"acquiring merit" — a concept which the Buddha certainly
held — something essentially immoral. It involves the idea
¦ — either directly or indirectly — that "merit" is something
to be measured quantitatively, that it is a personal possession
which may be acquired and stored up and weighed and handed
about. This notion of it is carried to its extreme in the ortho
dox Buddhist doctrine of reversible merit. That one may ac
quire merit and hand it over to some one else who has done
nothing to gain it, though obviously inconsistent with the
spirit of Gautama's teaching, is not only common belief,
among the laity and monks alike, but is good orthodox doc
trine which may be defended by quoting chapter and verse
from the Pitakas — as the learned and enthusiastic Buddhist,
Mr. F. L. Woodward, has done in the "Buddhist Review" for
January, 1914.
But even aside from this almost materialistic extension of
"merit," the emphasis which one finds so repeatedly in Bud
dhist writings and Buddhist thought upon acquiring merit
presents exactly the wrong view of a good act, focusing the
attention necessarily on the reward that one is to get out of it.
Self-forgetfulness on this plan is impossible; and the Buddhist
— or the Christian — who has not yet learned that virtue
must be its own reward, if it is to be virtue, is bound to be
merely a more or less prudent egoist.
Of course the man who clings to the pure Buddhism of the
Four Noble Truths, so far as he thinks of "acquiring merit"
at all, means by it the growth of a good and desirable charac
ter; and he would be one of the last to attribute any real value
to external performances of any sort. "Neither the study of
holy books," said the Buddha, "nor sacrifices to the gods, nor
sleeping on the ground, nor difficult and strenuous vigils, nor
412

THE VALUE OF BUDDHISM
the repetition of prayers can bring purification to the man en
meshed in delusion. Neither gifts to the priests, nor self-casti-
gation, nor the performance of rites and ceremonies can work
purification to him who is filled with craving." The true Brah
min — the man, that is, really worthy of reverence — is not
one born in a particular caste or one who performs certain par
ticular rites; but the man who has conquered himself and who
gladly follows the great Law. "Not by matted locks, nor by
lineage, nor by caste is one a Brahmin : he is the Brahmin in
whom are truth and righteousness, and purity. What boots
your tangled hair, O fool, what avails your garment of skins?
You have adorned the outer parts, within you are full of un-
cleanliness. Not him do I call a Brahmin who is merely born
of a Brahmin mother; men may give him salutation as a Brah
min, though he be not detached from the world : but him I call
a Brahmin who has attachment to nothing. Him I call a Brah
min, indeed, who has cut all fetters, who never trembles, is
independent and unshackled. Him I call a Brahmin, indeed,
who, though he has committed no offense, endures reproach,
bonds, and stripes, who has endurance for his force, and
strength for his army." *
It is the inner side of the act alone, the intention of the will,
that counts. Few moralists have ever laid more stress on the
inwardness of true morality than did Gautama. And this in
evitably: for the whole of his own peculiar teaching is a psy
chical matter. His one aim is psychological — the proper
training of the mind. Hence all external acts are simply irrel
evant. Hence also no one — whether god, man, or devil —
can really help or harm another. In the life of self-culture all
.external appeal is simply silly. The Buddha's point of view is
well summarized in his last words to his disciples: "Work out
your own salvation with diligence."
The great moral ideal of the Buddhism founded upon the
Four Noble Truths is self-mastery. " If one man conquer in
battle a thousand men," says the Dhammapada, "and if an
other conquer himself, he is the greatest of conquerors. One's
own self conquered is better than the conquest of all other
people; not even a god, a demi-god, not Mara with Brahman
1 Dhammapada, 393-99-
413

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
himself, could change into defeat the victory of a man who has
vanquished himself, and always lives under restraint." And
the Buddha, with his keen psychological insight, saw that
self-conquest and self-control meant primarily the control of
the mind, the mastery of one's thoughts. The first verse of the
Dhammapada reads: "All that we are is the result of what we
have thought; it is founded on our thoughts, it is made up of
our thoughts. If a man speaks or acts with an evil thought,
pain follows him, as the wheel follows the foot of the ox that
draws the carriage. ' He abused me, he beat me, he defeated
me' — in those who harbor such thoughts hatred will never
cease. For hatred does not cease by hatred at any time : hatred
ceases by love ; this is an old rule. He who lives without looking
for pleasures, his senses well controlled, moderate in his food,
faithful and strong, him the Tempter will certainly not over
throw, any more than the wind throws down a rocky moun
tain." "This mind of mine went formerly wandering about
as it liked; but I shall now control it thoroughly, as the rider
who holds the hook controls the furious elephant. Be not
careless! Watch your thoughts! Draw yourself out of the evil
way, as an elephant does who is sunk in mud." l
The morality of self-control and self-culture has never been
carried further than by this aspect of Buddhism. Yet it is a
limited kind of morality; and those critics who insist that
Buddhist ethics are purely negative have in mind these ethical
teachings that spring from the Four Noble Truths. For, as we
have seen in the preceding chapter, the strictly logical conse
quences of this pure but narrow Buddhist doctrine are essen
tially egoistic. The one virtue that it really gives birth to is
prudence. Wherever it exists unmingled with the genuinely
altruistic feeling which I have called the third element in the
Buddha's teaching, it results in a type of character which is
ever looking out for number one, with a coldly calculating
rationality which knows to a hair the cash value to self of every
seemingly unselfish act. Buddhism has few apologists so
enthusiastically sympathetic as Paul Dahlke; who writes as
follows: "That cordiality which forgets itself for others, that
affection which breeds tenderness and emotion, is entirely
1 Dhammapada, I, 3, 5, 8, 326, 327.
414

THE VALUE OF BUDDHISM
wanting here. The whole moral scheme in Buddhism is nothing
but a sum in arithmetic set down by a cold, clear egoism; as
much as I give to others, so much will come again to me.
Karma is the most exact arithmetician in the world." l
The man whose morality is described in this sentence of
Dahlke's is not likely to be capable of much enthusiastic de
votion to a great cause. The Buddhist monk is usually "harm
less"; ahimsa, harmlessness, in fact, is one of his great virtues.
But it would not be wise to go to the monasteries in search
of a hero. There is something about the Buddhist's fear of
sorrow that seems to the Western mind unaccountable, if not
downright pathological. Is, then, sorrow such a dreadful thing?
Is there nothing else so bad?
The extreme individualism of that kind of Buddhism which
is founded on the Four Noble Truths, and which is represented
in the quotation above from Dahlke, makes social and coopera
tive work among the Buddhists almost impossible. The mis
sionaries, at any rate, of both Burma and Ceylon will tell you
that the Buddhists of their acquaintance seem to be almost
incapable of cooperation with each other in any common
charitable work and that very few care to try. Charitable
they are, extremely so at times, but only as isolated individuals.
This fact, if it be a fact, as I suppose it is, would at any rate
follow naturally from the individualism of the Four Noble
Truths. Each man's great task is to cultivate his own charac
ter, to pile up merit for himself, to cut all ties (social as well
as sinful) , and to get out of this evil world into Nirvana as
soon as may be. The Buddhist ideals are all individualistic;
there is no place in Buddhism for an endeavor to make this
world a better place to live in, to build up a new social order, to
bring about the Kingdom of Heaven. There is an article in
the "Buddhist Review" for July, 1910, which is interesting
in this connection. It is entitled "Buddhism and Social Prob
lems," and the author, Madame Alexandra David, an enthu
siastic Buddhist, does her best to show that Buddhism is not
out of line with the modern ideals of social helpfulness. The
best that she can say for her religion is that it might make war
upon ignorance and that Gautama's own spirit of love and
> Op. cit., p. 32.
4^5

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
helpfulness is what the sad world needs. It is noticeable that
she says nothing of the Four Noble Truths; and as I have so
often pointed out, Gautama's altruistic spirit points directly
away from the individualism which they inculcate.
But the spirit of Gautama forms after all the dominant note
in Buddhist ethics. The universal love and good-will toward
all sentient creatures which so filled his teachings and his life
have been carried by Buddhism to the ends of the earth and
characterize this religion, to some extent at least, wherever
it is found. Thanks to this, Buddhist ethics, on the whole, is
decidedly positive rather than negative. It will vary, of
course, as embodied in different individuals according to the
predominance in each of what I have called the first, second,
or third elements. In an individual whose Buddhism consists
merely of the Four Noble Truths, combined with various
Indian beliefs and superstitions, we shall find temperance,
prudence, purity, long-suffering, meekness, charity, but all
of them cultivated in a coldly calculating spirit with an eye
on the main chance. On the other hand, wherever the loving
spirit of the Buddha forms an important constituent in a
man's morality we shall have a result worthy of genuine re
spect. And whenever this spirit is combined with the self-
mastery, the philosophical attitude of mind, the poise and
self-reliance, the superiority over material things and worldly
pleasures, the independence from fortune, and the courageous
outlook upon the future which come from the acceptance of
the Four Noble Truths and the training they inculcate, we
have a type of character which for strength and genuine no
bility one will seldom find equaled.
The great springs of power for the moral life which Bud
dhism furnishes are, then, (i) the belief in Karma and retribu
tion; (2) clear understanding of the sources of sorrow and the
ideal of the Great Peace; and (3) the altruistic teachings of
the founder, and most of all the inspiration that comes from
his example. It is from this latter especially that the finest
flowers of Buddhist morality have sprung. Its influence is
probably most obvious among the members of the new reform
movement; but one meets with it also among much more
simple and less learned men. The first Buddhist with whom I
416

THE VALUE OF BUDDHISM
became acquainted in Ceylon gave me a new insight into the
manner in which the spirit of Gautama might permeate many
a common follower of his, and express itself in all his words
and actions. The reader may not be uninterested in a short
account of this man as I knew him.
It was in the Temple of the Tooth at Kandy that I made
my first acquaintance in this land "where every prospect
pleases and only man is vile." The temple was thronged by
thousands of worshipers, — for it was the evening of the full
moon, — and the monks at every shrine were busy heaping
up the white jasmine flowers at the feet of the Buddha and
tending the hundreds of tiny flickering candles which the pil
grims had brought in token of their devotion to the Blessed
One. We had seen most of the usual sights and had reached
that part of the temple known as the "Great Eastern Library,"
where I was busy endeavoring to make an appointment with
one of the monks for an interview two days later. The monk
spoke only a little English, and as I was trying to. make- him
understand me, a young Ceylonese, who had considerable
command over our language, came to my assistance and helped
me to make the appointment. It was evident that an inter
preter would be useful at the interview, and the young man
said that if he could arrange to be in town at the time he would
like to help us ; though he feared this would be impossible, as
he was off next day for Matale (his home) to worship at the
shrine there, and could hardly return for several days. He
added, however, that if I wished it, he would give up his trip
to Matale, and stay to act as my interpreter at the interview.
Of course, I assured him that this was not necessary, and that
I could doubtless find some one else. So after he had an
swered some questions of mine on Buddhism, and had warned
me against giving to the professional beggars in the temple,
he left me, asking, however, that he might call at my hotel on
the following Monday.
The next day the mail brought me this note: —
Sir, — I have the pleasure to inform you that I am unable to prevent
my going to Matale, I who accompanied you last night to the Great
Eastern Library. I hope you will kindly postpone the talk with the
417

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
monk concerning Buddhism till Monday. May "Triple Gem " keep self
and lady sound and healthy. I will be coming on Monday to meet you
at your hotel. I will try my best to show you and lady even something
about Buddhism. I remain, sir,
Yours faithfully, V. P. H.
A few minutes later a telegram was brought me, which also
was from him and to the same effect as the note. When Mon
day came he arrived, true to his promise, and we had our talk
about his religion. He was, he told me, a upasaka, or a layman
who has taken upon himself certain additional vows and du
ties. I asked him to tell me more in detail about them. Be
sides enumerating the various vows which I have mentioned
in the previous chapter, he said the first duty of the upasaka
was to wish well to every one, — never to think of any one
without earnestly desiring for him the best things. His next
duty is helpfulness to all who are in need. "If I come upon a
man," he said, "who needs money, I must give it him: if I have
no money I must give him my coat." The eight vows which
the upasaka takes he must keep not only in the letter but in
the spirit. Thus when I asked my new friend why he had both
written and telegraphed to let me know that he could not keep
an appointment which had never been definite or really bind
ing, he said, "Oh, that was the Fourth Precept — not to lie."
On the day following our talk, much to my surprise, my
new-found friend reappeared and offered to take me to several
places of interest in Kandy. "Yesterday," he said, "I came
by appointment; to-day I come as upasaka — to help you."
We spent the day visiting various monasteries and temples
and talking with the monks; and on the day following he took
my wife and me out to Matale to show us the famous Alut
Vihara, or monastery. Matale, as I have said, was his home,
and I discovered that he was a teacher of English and religion
in a boys' school there, and that he had been granted two
weeks' leave — which he was spending, evidently, "as upa
saka." The Alut Vihara is perched on a rock in the midst of
the jungle. You approach it from the highway by a narrow
path, and, after climbing a long flight of steps, you come upon
the monastery gateway, in a cleft between two enormous
418

THE VALUE OF BUDDHISM
boulders. To your left is a rock-cut temple, with a large reclin
ing Buddha, carved many centuries ago; farther up is the cave
in which Buddhaghosa, the famous Buddhist commentator and
missionary, is said to have lived and copied out the scriptures
which he had brought from India, for distribution through
out Ceylon; and on the top of the highest rock, commanding a
wonderful outlook over palm-grove, jungle, and mountain
range, is a sacred dagoba, shining white against the sky.
It was interesting to watch my friend's bearing as we ap
proached the monastery, iand to see his reverence — of both
attitude and expression — whenever we entered a shrine.
'' Here is our Lord Buddha," he would say in hushed tones as
he prostrated himself on the ground before the image. And
whenever a monk appeared, or even a little novice of ten years
wearing the yellow robe,, he would prostrate himself again.
Of the future of Buddhism he was quietly confident. It was,
he told me, slowly and steadily growing. And when I asked
him among whom it was making its converts, he answered very
simply: "Among the Tamils and the Germans." Evidently
the zeal of German Pali scholars is appreciated in Ceylon.
But his conversation was ever returning to the intrinsic glories
of his religion and to the thought of Nirvana. This (in quite
unorthodox fashion) he described as "eternal comfort," real
and conscious joy; and he was always busy telling us of the
way thither. He never said in so many words that he desired
to convert us, but it was plain that this was his wish. "When
you are gone from here," he said, "I will pray for you every
day to the Lord Buddha and to the devatas. I will pray that
you should be safe and happy; but most of all that you should
come here again and stay a long time and learn more about
Lord Buddha and his way to Nirvana!" 1 And at another
time, quite without self-consciousness or any touch of pride,
1 In a letter written by my friend some months after we left India (for
we still correspond), this same wish for our salvation reappears. He writes:
"I will not forget you, gentleman and lady, and that affection will I hope
not efface until the last moment, and I pray Sakkiya Muni and meditate
to take the said affection till I, we, attain Nirvana, with my soul. I hope
according to Buddha's teachings that we might meet to the same place and
attain Nirvana — the everlasting comfort. Many a letters reach my hand
— more the affection arises in my mind." 419

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
he said, "Of course, if I could bring my brother to Nirvana by
going to hell myself, I should want to do so."
Of Christianity he knew practically nothing. The mission
aries, he said, were very good people, and one of them had very
recently lent him three books which he meant soon to read.
Two of them, he said, were called "Gospels," and he had read
two chapters in one of them. He believed Christianity was
probably a very good religion. "But," he added, "I feel very
sure there is no religion like that of Lord Buddha : for it leads
us to Nirvana."
I told him that I found many fine things in Buddhism, but
that I considered the attitude of those monks who live apart
from the world to save their own souls extremely selfish.
"Yes," he said, "it is selfish. And not all the monks do it,
though some do. But it is not the true Buddhism; it is not
what the Lord Buddha did. The true Buddhist wants to help
everybody, and so be like the Blessed One."
To this Buddhist, at any rate, kindness was not a matter of
preaching only, but a real part of life. It beamed from his face
and was unmistakable in his smile and showed itself in in
numerable little acts. He never called on me without bringing
some little gift for my "lady," — a cocoanut, perhaps, or some
such simple thing. When we were on our way to visit a mon
astery, he would stop on the road and buy some pan leaf and
betel nut and fruit for the monks. And he never saw a really
needy beggar in the street (and in Ceylon there are many
beggars in the streets) without giving him something. In the
last talk I had with him, just before we parted in the Matale
railway station, he took from his pocket what was evidently
a treasure, carefully unwrapped the protecting paper and
showed it to us. It was a small thin sheet of brass, in the form
of a pipal leaf, and on it was roughly etched a seated Buddha.
"This," he said, "keeps me safe from evil spirits. Two thou
sand Pali verses have been said over this by the monks. It is
very precious and I always carry it with me. It keeps me safe."
I examined the talisman closely, and when he saw my interest
he hesitated some moments, apparently in thought, and then
said, " If you would like this, you may keep it."
Although he had served me for several days as guide and
420

THE VALUE OF BUDDHISM
interpreter, he would not take anything from me in payment;
and the only thing he asked was that I should give him a
general letter of introduction to strangers in Kandy notifying
them that he would like the opportunity of showing them about
the city and its environs without any remuneration.
When he had seen us into our compartment for Kandy and
said his last good-byes, he put his hands together and said,
quite simply : ' ' May Lord Buddha keep you ! May devata keep
you!" — and disappeared. In two hours more we had reached
Kandy and our hotel, and a few minutes later I received a
telegram. It was from our friend, and it read, "May lady and
self travel healthily." It was his way of saying Bon voyage!
This was my first acquaintance in Ceylon. My last was no
less interesting and no less filled with the spirit of the Buddha.
He is one of the leaders of the Maha-Bodhi movement and he
gives up his entire time to spreading the reform. The only re
ward he looks for or cares for in this life or in the other is just
the doing of his duty. In our last talk together, the evening
before I sailed back for Europe, we were discussing Pari
nirvana, and when I asked him if he desired it for himself, he
said: "As a fact I do not. What I should like best would be an
endless succession of lives in this world so that I might use
them all in helping other people."
These are examples of individuals; but, as almost all those
who know the Burmese will testify, the influence of Buddhism
over a whole people as a people, both for morality and for hap
piness, is very considerable. Its influence, of course, is not all
for the good, and it has its weaknesses and its evil tendencies,
as I have tried unsparingly to show. Yet it does work a cer
tain gentleness of spirit and add a subtle charm to life which
are not to be mistaken, and which are manifest not only in the
individual but in the community as well. To see this at its
purest one should go not to the large centers but to some iso
lated village on the upper reaches of the Irrawaddy, far re
moved from European influence, and try with sympathetic
mind to inhale the spirit of the people and of their religion.
It is here that one finds the actual Buddhism of the twentieth
century in its living form among the lowly.
Whenever I turn my thoughts back toward the East and
421

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
try to focus them upon Buddhism, the first picture that comes
to my mind's eye is one of these Irrawaddy villages — any
one of a considerable number that the traveler passes on the
Irrawaddy steamer. A crowd of quiet men, women, and chil
dren is waiting for us at the landing as the steamer turns in
toward the shore, noses upstream, and makes fast. Most of
the village has come down to see the big boat land, greet re
turning travelers, and speed those who are departing, or to
carry on board the day's catch of fish or the day's product of
sun-baked and hand-modeled pottery. The returning pas
sengers walk over the gangplank and join the throng on the
shore — women with babies strapped to their backs, pretty
girls in their best silks, young men in equally brilliant and
tasteful colors, two Buddhist monks in their yellow and orange
robes — all spotlessly clean and, to all appearances, quietly and
calmly happy. In mysterious fashion some scent of eternal
youth seems to cling to the garments of these Burmese of the
villages — even to the garments of the old men and women.
Their perpetual outdoor life, their sweet neighborly relation
ships, tfie endless sunshine, and, shall we add, also the dignity
and calm of their religion, have got reflected in their natures
like the blue sky in the bosom of the Irrawaddy, so that the
stranger, at any rate, fancies he finds in them a simplicity and
serenity that make all ages of life quiet yet youthful, and that
are all too rare in our hustling West, which is at once so young
and so very old.
The crowd is now dispersing — the little children for their
beds, the men and women to their homes, or to some shrine,
the monks to their monasteries and their devotions. If you
follow the throng and climb the ridge above the river where
the village stands, you will find first of all a group of pagodas
and rest-houses, some new and many old, each with its image
of the Buddha. There are more than a dozen, altogether, and
the oldest ones — tokens of the piety of some long-gone gen
eration — are now lapsing into quiet ruin, the little inner
chamber in which the Buddha sits filled with a wild growth of
fern up to his feet, as though Nature, too, were eager to pay
its reverence to him who was the Light of Asia. In the larger
shrines you will find a few old women kneeling on the matting;
422

BY AN IRRAWADDY VILLAGE

THE VALUE OF BUDDHISM
each holding a rose or a cosmos blossom or lotus in her clasped
hands, with a rosary wound round one of her fingers, as she
whispers her evening prayer and alternately touches her head
to the floor and then gazes upward at the calm face of the
great Buddha. There are one or two men present also, and if
you wait a family party may come in, father and mother and
two or three small children, or a group of young men and maid
ens. Their gentle laughter and soft voices cease as they enter
the shrine, and all kneel, and holding flowers in their hands
murmur their prayers. No priest or preacher here, no mediator,
no spiritual authority, no cringing fear, no blood to be shed
or money to be offered — just one individual soul and another
reaching out toward the Determiner of Destiny in the way
taught them by the Great Teacher of Asia. True, they often
fail to understand the words of the prayers they utter. But
there can be no doubt that without understanding the words
they often understand the prayers. No one who watches them
can fail to see that the spirit of prayer is present — the out
pouring of their hearts' need, the spirit of thankfulness and of
aspiration toward the great ideal of purity and peace of which
the alabaster image before them eternally speaks. And never
did image better represent its prototype. Fresh flowers in a
dozen vases line the lotus at its feet, and little candles, lighted
by fervent worshipers, mingle with the last rays of day in the
darkening shrine, just as the prayers and the praises ascend
to him who has long since entered into Nirvana. The calm of
the Buddha's face is not broken: in the Eternal Peace he notes
neither worship nor neglect. One by one the worshipers de
part, the sunlight dies, the flowers wilt, the candles go out.
But in the darkness as well as in the light the Eternal Peace
broods over the head of the great Buddha.
A scene like this makes one ask one's self how he would feel
if we succeeded in converting these " heathen " Burmese, broke
their " idols," tore down all their shrines, and built on the high
ridge where the pagodas had been a Baptist church and a
Methodist church. And this question I put in all seriousness.
What would be the gains and what the losses? First of all,
there would be a loss in picturesqueness, certainly — and this
423

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
would be a great loss to the tourist — and consequently a
loss to the Irrawaddy Flotilla Company, Limited. Yet one
may question whether the christianized Burmese would lose
all his picturesqueness. He need not change his costume for
our dull colors merely because he changes his creed. Nor need
he necessarily choose as the type of his ecclesiastical architec
ture the brick-and-mortar edifices of our Middle West. Cer
tainly one who doubts whether Christianity is consistent with
picturesqueness of architecture and landscape has failed to
travel in Italy or the Tyrol — or for that matter in England,
or even New England. And, after all, is not our great concern
for the picturesque a trifle selfish? Should we not ask, first,
What would be the result of Christianity upon the Burmese
themselves? The answer to this question will depend wholly upon the
type of Christianity proposed. I can imagine a converted Bur
mese village with a Baptist church at one end, a Methodist at
the other, and a Presbyterian and Roman Catholic in the
middle, each aspiring after the highest steeple and the biggest
bell, each rent with theological controversies, casting out her
etics, and predicting eternal damnation to all but themselves,
each putting a premium on artificial emotion and holding ex
perience meetings for the production of hypocritical confes
sions and pious cant. Or, I can picture the village street lined
with fat priests who should sow superstitious fears among their
converts by means of which they would extort endless con
tributions for masses, candles, and indulgences. And I can
think that the last state of such a village would be worse than
the first; — and that in spite of their acceptance of "Salvation
by Faith" or of the "Blessed Trinity," they would be better
off by a return to the quiet and simple adoration of him who
taught the Great Peace and showed the way to it. But I can
also conceive of a Burmese village in which the Buddha might
still be honored and loved, but which had caught some of the
spirit of a still greater Teacher, whose message was more sim
ple than the Buddha's, whose insight into the secrets of the
spirit was certainly no less deep, whose example was no less
inspiring, and who also taught the Great Peace and pointed
out to it, as I believe, a more excellent way.

CHAPTER XX
CHRISTIAN MISSIONS IN INDIA
ON the value of Christian missions to India from the phil
anthropic and educational point of view, I shall say but
little; for on this subject there can be, and indeed there is,
practically but one opinion. From the beginning of this gal
lant venture till to-day the missionary has taken the great woes
of this sad land to his heart, and in imitation of his Master he
has not been content with preaching the Gospel, but has given
his life also to healing the sick, comforting the sorrowful, feed
ing the famine-stricken, caring for the^arphan, and teaching
young men and little children. One is uncertain whether to
admire most the missionary hospitals or the missionary schools
and colleges, both of which have been brought to such a re
markable development. He who is ignorant of the educational
and philanthropic work that has been done and is being done
by the Christian missionary in India, and in other "mission
fields," is blind to one of the most important movements of
our times. The opponents of Christianity are not among this
number of the blind, but, whether willingly or unwillingly, are
forced to recognize a fact which is so patent that none can
deny it. Let me quote from two Hindus on this subject. The
first is Mr. Jnan Chandra Banerji, who, in an attempt to
prove that Christianity can never convert India, takes occasion
to write as follows: —
"All over India the missionaries are taking a most important
share in training the young through various missionary col
leges. In fact they count among their number some of the
most prominent educationists of the day. In times of drought
and famine they* carry food and clothing to the sick, and nurse
and tend them. In our fights against oppression, they alone
among Anglo-Indians come to our assistance. And the major
ity of the missionaries sympathize with our political aspira
tions, as expressed through our congresses and conferences.
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INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
All this forms a record of which the missionaries may well be
proud." 1
The other quotation is from a writer in a Hindu paper: —
"The Christian religion is truly fruitful in practical philan
thropy to an extent unparalleled in the case of any other reli
gion. Whatever may be its theoretical faults and philosophical
incompleteness (one can afford to let that pass), here it stands
head and shoulders over every other religion. By its side the
most ancient religions and the grandest philosophical systems
of the world sink into insignifiance as a motive for philan
thropic action." 2
In every movement, moreover, for social betterment, in
every attack on the evils of Indian society, the Christian mis
sionary has played a leading part. And not only so; but from
his example has come the impetus that has set India to re
forming itself. In Chapter IX we saw that there are many
native movements afoot for charitable work and social service
in India; but none of these were started or faintly conceived of
until the missionary had blazed the way.
Concerning the value of missionary activity in all these di
rections, there is, as I have said, no difference of opinion; be
cause, indeed, here we are not in the realm of opinion, but are
dealing with undeniable facts. And much the same unanim
ity is to be found on the further question of the evangelical
activity of the missionaries among the lowest classes of the
Indian population, — the outcastes and the animistic tribes
who are too low for Hinduism to touch. It is from these that
Christianity is making the great bulk of its converts; and
many a Hindu looks on with approval at the process and wishes
the missionary Godspeed. In fact, there can be no question
of the great value of Christian activity among these low and
despised millions. The religion of these various peoples is a
base form of animism and magic, which has not the remotest
relation to morality. They are the prey of superstitious fears
and ignoble customs, the slaves of impulse, with no defense
in public opinion or cultured self-control against the various
1 "The Future of Christianity in India," reprinted from the Hindustan
Review (Lahore, 1904), pp. 15-16.
2 Quoted by Farquhar, The Crown of Hinduism, pp. 277-78.
426

CHRISTIAN MISSIONS IN INDIA
forms of vice and temptation to which they are exposed. To
make anything of such people might well seem hopeless; but
many a missionary has wagered his life on the outcome. And
the result is that all over India, in jungle and in city, a trans
formation is being wrought in the dregs of Hindu society
which none but the Christian missionary had dared to hope
for. I do not mean that anything sudden or miraculous has
happened; but that for the first time in the history of these
various races, their eyes have been opened to the distinction
between right and wrong, and they are really trying — with
many a relapse, to be sure, but still trying and with consider
able success — to give up drunkenness, theft, violence, and
immorality, together with their magic and the most degrading
of their superstitions, and to live decent lives and obey the
missionary. I have myself seen something of the Bihls in
Gujerati and the Doms in the city of Benares, and these are
typical, I believe, of the jungle animists and city outcastes all
over India; and I can testify to the admirable work that has
been done among them — admirable both for the unstinted
devotion which it involves and for the excellent results that
have been attained.
So much for the philanthropic activity of the missionaries
and their evangelical work among the lower classes. Thus far
we have met with no real problem, but only with facts — facts
which may be learned by consulting any one of a number of
missionary manuals. But when we come to deal with the
effort of the missionary to make converts from among the ad
herents of the six highly developed religions that have been
dealt with in this book, we face a question upon which there
is by no means a unanimity of opinion among intelligent peo
ple, whether in India or in Christendom. Both the missionary
and his message and the very idea of a Christian propaganda
are being very stoutly attacked ; and we should do well not to
hold our ears nor listen merely to our pre-formed opinions, but
to give both sides a hearing.
And in the beginning it must be said that when one goes for
the first time to a non-Christian land and makes the acquaint
ance of non-Christian gentlemen, he finds that the missionaries
appear in a light which he never had guessed irom the perusal
427

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
of his missionary manuals at home. As a young friend of mine
now residing in Burma put it: "Before I came out I pictured
the natives waiting with impatience for the arrival of the mis
sionary, hungering and thirsting for the words of truth that
should fall from his lips, and calling us to deliver their land
from Error's chain. When I reached here I found that the
Burmese got on very well by themselves without the mission
ary, did n't want him, and were usually quite indifferent to
what he said or did." The "natives," in short, take the mis
sionary in much the same light as they take the soldier or the
merchant, or the civil servant. In general they regard him as
one of the many who have come out to India to make a living,
— and in fact as one who has been uncommonly successful at
it. If the average Indian could hear the remarks so often made
in England and America about the privations and self-sacri
fice of the missionary he would be astonished and probably
would be inclined to smile. It has never entered into his head
that the missionary's life is one of privation. For he sees the
missionary living in a style which, compared with his own fru
gal life, he must consider luxurious; in possession usually of a
large compound, and a pleasant house tastefully furnished,
with plenty of good food, many books, and seemingly any
amount of leisure. More than one Indian has pointed out to
me the contrast between the comforts and possessions of the
Christian missionary and the poverty of the Hindu sannyasi,
the Mohammedan saint, or the Jaina or Buddhist monk.1 The
missionary, as they put it, lives only less well than the officers
of the civil service. Both have come out for "careers," and
both have found uncommonly good ones. I am not writing
this in any spirit of criticism upon the missionary. Personally
I consider his profession one of the most truly unselfish to be
1 Still more striking to the Indian is the contrast between the poverty
of his own holy men and the comparative wealth of certain Christian
clergymen at home. One Indian writes thus: "From the time of the ancient
Rishis, the lessons of plain living and high thinking were carefully taught
to the Brahmacharis, and rigidly practiced by the Gurus, Pundits, and
Purohits, in their daily life. Such being the case, the sight of bishops and
archbishops rolling in wealth, living in palaces, and voting in the House of
Lords, calls up anything but reverent feelings in the mind of the average
Hindu." (Jnan Chandra Banerji, op. cit., p. 12.)
428

CHRISTIAN MISSIONS IN INDIA
found in the world. The Indian does not understand how
much the missionary has given up, nor what it means for him
to leave home behind, send his children away from him half
way round the world when the time comes for their education,
and spend his life among a people that can never really under
stand him, and in a land whose scorching summer heat and
countless pests are an unending source of discomfort or danger
to the European. I am glad that the missionary has a few of
the comforts of home in his self-imposed exile. He ought to
have them. And yet I see now, as I did not see before I went
to India, how the Indian views the matter, and how inevitable
it is that he should so view it.
And while I would not criticize the missionaries for their com
forts, I would criticize some of them for their unsympathetic
attitude toward Indian thought, religion, and civilization.
Perhaps it is natural that they should take this attitude; for
many of them feel that they have come out expressly for the
purpose of attacking these things. Whether or not they are
justified in this view of their mission, it is at any rate unfor
tunate that they do not make the effort to understand better
than they sometimes do the best things in the religion which
they are seeking to replace. Rabindranath Tagore said to me:
"The Indians feel that the missionaries do not understand
them and do not care to; and they are unwilling to accept
anything from an unsympathetic source. No one doubts, of
course, that the missionaries are moral and good men. But the
Indian feels that it is the missionary's business to be moral.
He is a professional missionary and gets his living by it, — it
is a kind of trade. The born missionary — the man all aflame
with the spirit of God — has indeed a great influence for good
in India. But there are not many of these anywhere — not
many are born. There are many missionaries, on the other
hand, who are just soldiers with a priest's garb instead of a red
coat." Another aspect of this lack of sympathy in things Indian
is a certain narrowness which one finds in some missionaries
— a narrowness which is often only the reverse side of a noble
earnestness. Fortunately this is much less common now than
it was a few years ago. Yet even to-day one will come upon
429

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
good men, or more often good women, in the mission field who
are apparently quite sure that God hath left Himself without a
witness in all lands but Palestine, and that the Word of God
which is contained in the Scriptures of the Old and New Tes
taments is the only rule to direct us how we may glorify and
enjoy Him.1
I must say, however, that the impression I have derived
from the missionaries I have met personally is extremely
favorable. I made a point in India — as I did a dozen years
before in the Turkish Empire — to get acquainted with the
missionaries and see their work at close quarters; and I do not
hesitate to say not only that they are the most devoted group
1 Shivanath Shastri, the venerable leader of the Brahmo Samaj, told me
an experience of his illustrating the attitude of this type of missionary. He
was returning, several years ago, to India from England, and two mission
aries who were on the steamer watched him with some curiosity as he read
now from Confucius, now from the Koran, now from the Bible, etc. At
last their curiosity could be restrained no longer, and they asked him what
religion he professed. He answered, "Universal Theism." To this they re
plied that there really was but one true religion, and that was contained in
God's only revelation — namely, the Old and New Testaments. Mr. Shas
tri thereupon challenged them to name some religious truth contained in
the Bible and found nowhere else. They were not slow with their reply, and
triumphantly named the "Golden Rule." Mr. Shastri immediately turned
to Confucius and then to the Talmud and read them the same injunction
from both of these. But this had no effect on the missionaries. They were,
to be sure, considerably surprised; but they answered: "Ah, well, you know
the Devil, too, can inspire men to write the truth." To which Mr. Shastri
responded: "Gentlemen, you have disarmed me; there is nothing I can
reply to that!"
The change that has come about in the attitude of the missionaries them
selves in the last fifty years is clearly put by Dr. Clough: "At that time
[1864, the year when he went out to India as missionary to the Telugus]
little was known of the Oriental races. Christian people took it for granted
that the older religions were wholly bad and that their scriptures contained
nothing but evil. There was no sympathetic approach, no feeling that per
haps God had not left Himself unrevealed to the heathen world. "It dis
tressed many thoughtful men and women in Christian lands at that time
to think that unless the heathen heard the Gospel of Jesus Christ and ac
cepted it, they would be eternally lost. This was my opinion, too, when I
went to India. It formed my missionary motive. I looked upon the Hindus
as simply heathen: I wanted to see them converted. As the years passed I
grew tolerant, and often told the caste people, if they could not or would
not receive Jesus Christ as their Saviour, to serve their own gods faithfully.
During my visits to America I sometimes told American audiences that the
Hindus were in some respects better than they." (Social Christianity in the
Orient, p. 73.) 430

CHRISTIAN MISSIONS IN INDIA
of men and women I have ever known, but also that a large
portion of them impressed me as liberal-minded, far-seeing,
and surprisingly wise. In the case of very many of them the
contact with non-Christian religions and with representatives
of other branches of Christianity — Protestant and Catholic —
than their own has opened their eyes to new truths, and they
go home on their first furlough with broader views of God and
man and a more intelligent insight into the real needs and
the highest ideals of the missionary enterprise than they took
out with them in the first enthusiasm of their youthful devo
tion. If Protestants of different denominations, yes, if Protes
tants and Catholics, ever come to understand each other, it is
on the mission field. And this sympathetic understanding of
the experienced missionary is beginning to extend itself very
noticeably, so as to take in the finer aspects of the non-Chris
tian religions. Moreover, the endless variety of work and re
sponsibility that falls to the lot of most missionaries in a land
like India develops in many of them, after ten or twenty
years' training, a practical wisdom, a soundness of judgment,
and an ability to understand and deal with men, and to in
fluence and direct whole communities, rarely met with at
home. We come now to the arguments against the missionary enter
prise as such. These arguments may be reduced to two which
seek to prove: (i) that the conversion of India to Christianity
is impossible, and (2) that it is useless. The first of these argu
ments has many forms and much to say for itself. We are told
in the first place — and this is peculiarly the position of the
Theosophical Society — that Christian missions can never
succeed because Christianity is not native to India. The most
that could be hoped for would be a change of external forms
and the adoption of certain pious words and phrases; but the
religion of a people is too deep to be touched by any amount
of preaching and proselyting. Religion is a matter of centu
ries, yes, of thousands of years, of tradition ; and only a religion
that has such a power of past generations behind it can really
get hold of the heart of a people. Hence the conclusion is
reached that it is far wiser to start with the religion which the
people already possess and seek, not to convert them to some
431

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
new form of faith, but to draw their attention to the more
spiritual and ethical side of the faith which is already theirs.
This, of course, is the work which the Theosophists are them
selves pursuing — and with some success — in both India and
Ceylon. Any other form of religious teaching they regard as
artificial and as doomed to failure because based on a profound
misunderstanding of social psychology.
No one can deny the psychological facts on which this
argument is based. The religion native to a land has enormous
advantages over every newcomer, advantages of an emotional
and authoritative character so great that one should certainly
think many times before seeking to replace it with a foreign
religion, which might be a little but only a little better. For
to destroy an old religion is a very difficult process; and, more
over, if one succeeds in so doing there is the great danger that in
destroying one religion he may have undermined the founda
tions of religion as such, and opened the way only to a godless
and reckless skepticism or naturalism. Hence, if Christianity
is only a little better than its rivals, the missionary enterprise
is of very doubtful wisdom. But it must be remembered that
those who believe in missions believe that Christianity is very
much better than its rivals; so much better in fact that the
risk of failure and the risk even of ultimate harm are worth
taking. This question of the superiority of Christianity will
occupy us later on in this chapter. Here we must consider
further the Theosophist argument already stated.
And the most noticeable thing about it is that while the
psychological facts to which it appeals are undoubted, the
argument taken as it stands proves too much. It aims to show
not only that the conversion of India would be difficult (a fact
which no one knows better than the missionary), but that
it is psychologically impossible. This, as I say, if it proves
anything, proves much more than the Theosophists would
wish. It proves that Christianity could not succeed among
the Romans and Greeks, nor among the Germans and Anglo-
Saxons; in short, that it could succeed only among the Jews —
with whom, alone, as a matter of fact, it failed. Similarly the
argument proves that Islam could not succeed among the
Turks and Persians nor in India, and that Buddhism could
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CHRISTIAN MISSIONS IN INDIA
not succeed in China and Japan, nor in Burma and Ceylon —
where the Theosophists are now so busy defending it as the
" native" religion. According to it Buddha, Jesus, Zarathustra,
and all the other "Masters" of the Theosophist canon were
deluded and could not have succeeded, and we must therefore
all be only animists still (or "Toltecs"?). No; conversion is
indeed a difficult process, but to regard it as impossible is to de
spair of reason and conscience and human nature, and to fall
back into a lethargy of pessimism worse far than the active
undermining of all religions.
Nor if we fasten our eyes more directly on India does the
prospect of converting a large part of its population seem so
hopeless as many would have us believe. The census figures
are somewhat encouraging. Yet, it must be said, they are far
from settling the question of the practicability of converting
India. The total population of India, Burma, and Ceylon
in 191 1 was 317,653,000, of whom 4,287,000 were Christian.
This seems, indeed, but a drop in the bucket — hardly more
than one per cent of the total population. Yet the rate of
increase during the decade 1901-11 is more encouraging than
the actual number of present converts. I give the figures as
condensed from the "Statesman's Year-Book," combining
the statistics for India, Burma, and Ceylon : r
Increase of total population during the decade 6.7 per cent
Increase of Hindus 5
Increase of Sikhs over 10
Decrease of Jainas 6
Increase of Mohammedans 6.7
Increase of Parsees 6
Increase of Buddhists 13
Increase of Animists 2
Increase of Christians 31
The rates of Christian increase during the three decades
preceding this were respectively 22, 33.9, and 30 per cent. Of
the million added to the Christian community between 1901
1 The actual numbers according to the 191 1 census have been in part
given in previous chapters. For the sake of convenience in comparison
I repeat them here: Hindus (in all three countries), 218,526,000; Sikhs,
3,014,000; Jainas, 1,248,000; Mohammedans, 66,931,000; Parsees, 100,096;
Buddhists, 13,195,000; Animists, 10,295,000; Jews, 20,080; others, 37,101.
433

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
and 191 1, perhaps 250,000 should be regarded as natural in
crease; so we may say that roughly 750,000 of the Christians
in India, Burma, and Ceylon are due to conversion.
These figures, as I have said, are encouraging, yet hardly
prophetic: one who should seek on their basis to figure out
just how long it will take to christianize India would show a
lamentable ignorance of the missionary problem. For, as we
shall presently see, much the greater proportion of conversions
are made from the low castes and animists; and figures based
so largely on success with this inferior part of the population
give us absolutely no basis for any sort of prediction as to suc
cess among that great mass of higher caste Hindus, Buddhists,
and Mohammedans who are as yet almost untouched by Chris
tianity so far as census figures are concerned. Hence I fear
that the census returns will hardly answer our question; and
though it is natural and right that the missionary should scan
them with interest, he should not be unduly elated at reported
gains nor too much cast down at reported losses. Let him re
member the words of Emerson: "Whenever an appeal to num
bers is made religion is dead." We are all apt to give too much
weight to figures. The critic counts the converts and counts
the cash and asks, Is it worth the money? The unthinking
missionary advocate does the same and points out that you
can save souls at so much "per." It is the same point of view
in both cases and equally absurd whichever way applied. The
"convert" who goes down as such in the statistics is not neces
sarily saved in any sense of the word that is really important.
We have enough "Christians" and "church members" at
home to enable us to value statistics of this sort for about as
much as they are worth. Jesus had something to say on this
subject: "Not every one that saith unto me Lord, Lord, but
he that doeth the will of my Father, he is it that loveth me."
But this criticism works both ways. While there are doubtless
many converts on the books who are quite lacking in the spirit
of Christ, the influence of the missionary is not to be limited
to the "converts" of the statistics. For the spirit of Christ
radiates from every Christian home and school and hospital,
and bears a blessing to all who come within its reach. And
there are innumerable Hindus, Moslems, and other "heathen"
434

CHRISTIAN MISSIONS IN INDIA
who, though still loyal to their old religions, are not far from
the Kingdom of God.
These things should be kept in mind in our interpretation
of what is, perhaps, the most striking fact in the missionary
statistics — the fact, namely, that the overwhelming majority
of Christian converts are from the tribes of the jungle and the
dregs of Indian society. Hindus of high caste, Moslems, Bud
dhists, and members of other highly developed religions are,
indeed, occasionally converted, but such a conversion is a rare
occurrence. This isa significant fact, and its implications should
be considered. The explanation of it is not simple and must
be sought in a variety of causes. For one thing, Christianity
has usually made its first appeal to the lowly and uneducated.
It was so in the Roman Empire and we should expect it to be
so in India. The high-caste Hindu is both more fettered by
the bonds of tradition and more attracted by the subtleties
of his own religion and philosophy than is the sweeper or the
Bihl. Of considerable significance in this connection is also the
method by which many of these "conversions" from the lower
classes are made. I refer to what is known as "mass conver
sion" as practiced by the Methodists. The missionary goes
into the jungle and induces the inhabitants of an entire village
to be baptized together and to call themselves Christians. Or
he does the same with some low caste in the city. They yield
to his persuasions from purely social and economic considera
tions. For, gentle reader, if you were a "chamar "or a "Dora,"
you, too, would ask no theological questions, but would be
glad to join any religious body which would make you re
spected and get you a job. Having baptized his newly made
converts, the missionary proceeds to teach and if possible to
convert them. The method, on first hearing, of course, sounds
absurd: and the Church of England missionaries are violently
opposed to it. Yet the Methodist missionaries who have tried
it are enthusiastic in its praise. And this, I hasten to say, not
out of zeal to swell the numbers in their reports (at least not
chiefly so), but because they insist that it has certain very
great practical advantages. For one thing, all social perse
cution of individuals by their fellows is thus avoided. And
what is more important, the missionary gains at once a position
435

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
of authority which he utilizes in bringing about genuine con
versions, and also in restraining the members of his flock from
all sorts of immoral practices. They may not understand his
theology, but they look up to him as a father, and obey him.
He may now order them out of a saloon and they will at once
go, or he may if necessary even beat them for past transgres
sions and they submit — and profit thereby. Thus, through
having baptized them into a purely nominal Christianity, he
wins an influence over them which makes their ultimate con
version to a real Christianity very much more probable than
it would otherwise have been. And even aside from his influ
ence over his immediate "converts," the missionary is enabled
to get control over the "converts' " children, and to see that
the second generation get a Christian education and are brought
up in some sort of knowledge and admonition of the Lord.
I should add, however, that not all "mass conversions" are
of the type I have described. The census commissioner says,
"Most missions are very careful to baptize no one until he has
given satisfactory proof of his being a Christian at heart." The
method of baptizing first and converting afterward was quite
new at the time of the 191 1 census, and there are many mis
sionaries to-day, who practice "mass conversion," but look
askance at this extreme form of it.1
But whatever we think of this method, we must bear it in
mind in interpreting mission figures. It is estimated that if all
the missionary bodies would follow the same plan, over fifty
million of the lowest classes in India could be baptized in a
very short time — and so go down in the reports as "con
verted to Christianity."
Of course these "mass" methods cannot be practiced with
the higher classes of society. Moreover, conversion from
their ranks — at least in the case of the Hindus — is made
particularly difficult because of the severe social persecution
to which the individual convert is usually subjected. The mis-
1 Mr. Patton, of the A.B.C.F.M., tells me that a certain Congregational-
ist missionary in South India has so many applications for baptism, and
is so determined not to baptize more than he can care for spiritually, that
he has set a limit to the number df converts to be received each year —
namely, one thousand. Hence he has started a waiting-list. Fancy a wait
ing-list for church membership! 436

CHRISTIAN MISSIONS IN INDIA
sionaries always point out this fact in explaining their lack of
success among the higher castes, and it undoubtedly has some
weight. There are other causes at work, however, among in
telligent Indians which give more food for thought. One of
these is the example of European "Christians" in India and
in other parts of the world. For the educated Indian keeps his
eyes open to what is going on in the world, and when he notes
how slight is the influence which Christianity has upon many
"Christian" men and women and upon most "Christian"
nations, he is led to question seriously the advantage which
would come to India from a change of creed. " If we are to
judge a religion by what it set itself to but has failed to achieve,"
writes the editor of the "Indian Social Reformer," "we are
afraid none will come out worse than Christianity."1 The re
spondents to Mr. Kenneth Saunders's Questionnaire concern
ing religious conditions in Ceylon were almost unanimous in the
opinion that the greatest hindrance to the spread of Christian
ity among the Buddhists was "the inconsistent lives of Chris
tians themselves."2 The attitude of many of the European resi
dents of India toward the "natives" is certainly hardly such
as to induce great respect for their religion; and the "black
man" forms his own opinion on the basis of the things that
he sees — for example (and this I quote from an Indian), "the
cases of assault committed upon defenseless Indians by
Anglo-Indians whose Saviour enjoined them to offer the left
cheek to those who smote them on the right." The following
sentences may also be of service in aiding us Christians to see
ourselves as others see us : " In the field of politics Christianity
has admittedly no place. The white man is very loath to be
relieved of his burden, and the very natural and laudable at
tempt of the yellow nations to preserve themselves from ex
tinction is openly and shamelessly denounced as the Yellow
Peril, which to non-Christians appears very much like blaming
a man for defending his iron safe from aggressors who want to
break it open. Self-interest is the only principle which gov
erns the politics of the world, and Christianity has no part or
lot in it." "The noble, self-sacrificing heroism, the devotion to
1 Indian Social Reformer for August I, 191 5.
2 Buddhist Ideals, Appendix, p. 161.
437

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
duty, the culture, the chivalry, the humanity which the Jap
anese, without any active belief in a paradise after death, have
exhibited, form a noble contrast to the savagery and bestiality
of the allied armies in Peking not very long ago, and this vivid
object-lesson, by showing how little Christianity has in reality
influenced the lives of the Western nations, has further under
mined the faith of the 'pagan' world in all that Christianity
lays claim to." x Our utter disregard of Christian principles in
our international relations has always struck the intelligent
Oriental as very significant; and we can very well imagine the
effect that the present senseless war must have upon the whole
East, and how it must inevitably influence the reputation of
our religion in non-Christian lands. At the outbreak of the
war a Japanese who had lived in the West wrote a significant
letter to the New York "Nation," from which I quote here two
or three sentences: "We Orientals must insist in future not to
believe whatever high philosophy on love or peace or human
ity the Western scholars and theologians might write. We
Japanese are glad at least to have a country in a far-away
East, not in the West. I have been losing for some long while
my own respect toward the West and her own civilization." 2
"The war has come in the nick of time," says an anonymous
writer in the "Asiatic Review," "to clear the minds of those
Orientals who have been ill satisfied with their own cul
ture and traditions. The vaunted civilization of the West is
stripped bare, and the diseases of her body politic — the can
cer which is eating at her vitals — are made manifest. Let
us ask — What is the cause of this war? The answer is brief:
it is the will to possess, the aggressive spirit which has the
West by the throat. . . . Mutual suspicion, jealousy, and hatred
pervade the atmosphere. Militarism and the menace of diplo
macy increase. . . . The mind of man in the West is set on
outward ends and material aims. The inward vision and the
spiritual impulse are lost. In spite of all Christian professions
the tale of actual practice is the tragedy of selfish interest and
lust for gold, aptly described as the yellow peril." 8
1 J. C. Banerji, op. cit.
8 Yom Noguchi, in the Nation for October 8, 1914.
' A View from India on the War, by 5. R. Asiatic Review for May, 1915.
438

CHRISTIAN MISSIONS IN INDIA
Even more to the point is a letter from an Indian Christian
in the London "Challenge," quoted by a recent writer in the
"Atlantic Monthly" : "The difficulty of finance, in his opinion,
'is a very small problem compared with the enormous burden
of proof that, in the eyes of the enlightened spiritual Hindus,
this war will throw upon European missionaries who come to
us hereafter to preach the Gospel of Love.' " And after de
scribing a service in St. Paul's, the keynote of which was given
by the war-spirit, he concludes thus: "As I walked home that
night, amid the glaring lights and the many khaki uniforms,
threading my way through that great throng that seemed
continually to pour out of the cathedral, my thoughts went
back for a moment across the seas, to my village home in In
dia, far from the military camps and the legislative council, —
pagan, heathen, animistic, call it what you will, — but where
they love their neighbors, and, if they hate, they hate with a
bad conscience; and I felt that there, at least, in the wide world
to-day, Christ could still walk as He walked in Galilee." x
This obstacle in the way of the missionary's success might
be elaborated in great detail : but I shall leave the reader (or
the missionary) to do that for himself, and shall go on, instead,
to point out two further obstacles to the conversion of the
intelligent Indian which the missionary is not likely to men
tion. The first of these concerns the question of "church or
ganization." Too many missionaries and missionary boards
in the past have identified Christianity with their own partic
ular type of denominational church government, and have had
much too contemptuous a feeling for the forms of religious life
native to the Indian village community. The result has been,
on the one hand, to divide Indian Christianity into a confus
ing multitude of sects,2 and on the other, to stamp Christian
ity in the Indian mind as essentially a foreign religion, and
thus to arouse the hostility of many of the best leaders of
Indian thought, who are bent on rousing in India a spirit of
nationality. 1 Quoted by Herbert W. Horwill, in "The Cost to Humanity," Atlantic
Monthly, for March, 1915 (p. 425).
1 Cf. the black man in South India, who (according to Dr. Crothers) de
scribed himself as a "Scotch Presbyterian." 439

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
But a still greater obstacle to missionary success is the un-
discriminating way in which Christianity is only too often
presented by the missionaries themselves. A Buddhist in Man
dalay, with whom I had several talks, told me that he had
been educated in a mission school and that he saw many fine
things in Christianity, but that, on the whole, he considered it
an immoral religion. On questioning him I discovered that his
opinion was based on various Old Testament stories which he
had been taught as a part of Christianity and which represent
Jehovah as conversing and acting in anything but the spirit
of Christ. Certain Christian dogmas act in the same way upon
the " unregenerate " mind as do the Old Testament stories
just referred to. Mr. Saunders tells us, in analyzing the results
of his Ceylonese Questionnaire: "Most of our correspondents
agree that the idea of Atonement is alien to the Buddhist
consciousness. . . . The substitutionary theory which is
widely preached does not appeal to the Buddhist mind. It
conflicts with their sense of the fitness of things." Examples,
however, are cited from missionary discourses, in which it is
attempted to make the dogma of substitution more palatable
to the heathen : examples which are said to appeal to the Bud
dhist sense of justice, but which, in all frankness, seem better
adapted to appeal to the Buddhist sense of the absurd. A
young Hindu friend of mine, who is almost ready to be a fol
lower of Jesus, was astonished when I told him that he was
nearly a Christian. "For," he said, " I was always told in the
mission school that I could n't possibly be any sort of a Chris
tian unless I first believed in the Trinity." Considering how
little we hear of that famous doctrine from the pulpits at home,
it is rather surprising to find so much made of it in missionary
attempts to convert the "heathen." Some missionaries seem
to feel it necessary to put forward this most difficult of Chris
tian dogmas as the first lesson in Christian teaching; and the
result is about what one might expect. For the Moslems in
particular, of course, no greater obstacle to Christian conver
sion could be devised : yet it appears to be the missionaries to
the Moslems who make the most of this doctrine in their
preaching. My Mohammedan acquaintances in Benares
showed by their conversation that they had come to regard the
440

CHRISTIAN MISSIONS IN INDIA
Trinity as the distinctive feature of Christianity; and in
sisted that the Church of England missionaries made it the
center of their propaganda. Probably this was an exaggera
tion. And yet one may read in the official "Year-Book of
Missions in India" that one of the chief problems confronting
the missionary to the Moslems is "the impartation of a true
concept of God as Triune instead of an absolute Unit which
excludes the Trinity."
But the obstacles which a certain type of Christian theol
ogy puts in the way of the spread of the Christian religion are
not due primarily to the missionary, but to us Christians at
home who allow our living religion to be identified with a col
lection of half-dead dogmas. The result of this is to be seen
in the low opinion that many an educated Indian has of our
theology. "To the philosophic Hindu," as one of them writes,
"Christianity is a superstition." As illustrations of the way
in which we are allowing our religion to be pictured by many
of the Indians, I set down here extracts from two Indian arti
cles on the subject of Christianity. The first is from the little
monograph already cited, entitled " Is not Christianity a False
and Fabulous Religion?" The author of it has found in the
Old Testament — and in the doctrine of the Church that the
Old Testament is infallibly inspired — great stores of ammuni
tion for his attack. "The Bible," he says, "presents certain
ideas of God and man. Are they true? Christendom says —
Yes, and demands that the race must receive them as true or
be outcasts from divine favor. ... In 1st Samuel, 15th chap
ter, is an account of the final extermination of Amalek, and
the accomplishment of the long-nurtured revenge. Saul is sent
by Samuel to do the deed and the commission is in these words :
'Thus saith the Lord of hosts, I remember that which Amalek
did to Israel, how he laid wait for him in the way, when
he came up out from Egypt. Now, go and smite Amalek,
and utterly destroy all that they have, and spare them not;
but slay both man and woman, infant and suckling, ox and
sheep, camel and ass.' Can it be believed that the God of
Justice ever commanded a tribe of men to be exterminated
because their ancestors, centuries before, did wrong? Can it
be believed that the Father of men ever thus commanded his
441

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
children to cherish the spirit of deadly hatred toward the
fellow-beings from age to age and then, after ages had passed,
instigated them to satiate their cherished revenge in the blood
of infants and sucklings because they were the posterity of
those who had wronged them? Yes. This is all devoutly be
lieved as truth by Christendom."
As the reader may imagine, the writer of this pamphlet does
not stop with Amalek, but brings up many another instance
from the Old Testament in which the God of Israel shows but
small measure of what we like to call the "Christian spirit."
Nor has he altogether neglected some of the Christian dogmas
which, though we are perhaps half ashamed of them, still re
main in our official creeds. He writes: "They say that the first
parents or so-called Adam and Eve, made a sin in consequence
of which mankind undergoes sufferings. ... If that God of
the Bible be so unjust as to punish one individual for another's
crime, then we do not hesitate to call him tyrant. It is the be
lief of all Christians that he who does not believe in Christ
will have to suffer eternal punishment. What a vulgar belief
this is ! Is not that God cruel and tyrant who sends man into
the house of eternal fire like the hell of the Christians simply
because he does not believe in the so-called Christ, though he
may be good and righteous?"
The above, as I think I have said, is from the pen of a mem
ber of the Arya Samaj. A Buddhist writer, contributing to
the "Buddhist Review," says: "The Christian faith does not
correspond with the truths of science. Christianity is static;
science, on the other hand, is dynamic, based as it is on the
ever-expanding sum of human knowledge, and therefore must
eventually push aside any teaching which rests merely upon
the shifting basis of faith. Two thousand years is a long time,
and mankind has grown up; it no longer blindly accepts what
it is told, and we find that there is an ever-increasing num
ber of those who regard it as highly improbable that some
almighty ruler of the cosmos should have taken the trouble to
' send his son — part of his godhead — to this infinitesimal por
tion of the universe, in order to redeem mankind from the sin
of having eaten a certain fruit hundreds of generations before.'
That is frankly the essence of the Christian faith. Certainly
442

CHRISTIAN MISSIONS IN INDIA
a poetic idea, but savoring of the myths born in the infancy
of the human intellect, just as does the parent of Christianity,
the religion of the Pentateuch." 1
"Wretched caricatures of Christian teaching," you will say;
"utter misrepresentations of the true nature of our religion."
And undoubtedly they are. But how are such misrepresenta
tions possible at all? If you have read our official creeds and
our dogmatic theologies, you know how they are possible, and
you know that the Buddhist and the Hindu have hardly done
more than take our "orthodox" theologians at their word.
If we allow Christianity to be identified in the minds of the
non-Christian world with a mass of scholastic subtleties and
mediaeval dogmas, we shall have nothing to blame for it but
our own cowardice.
On the whole, therefore, we can to some extent understand
why the great majority of Christian "converts" are from the
lower and less intelligent classes. And this brings us to one of
the most important of all the questions involved in the mis
sionary enterprise, namely, the character and quality of the
converts. On this there is a bewildering variety of opinion. In
the first place, one must note, and with some discouragement,
how many of the Christian European residents in India agree
with the non-Christian opponents of missions in regarding a
large proportion of the converts as very poor material, indeed.
Over and over you hear the advice from Anglo-Indians : "Don't
get a Christian servant: they are the worst thieves in the land.
Get a Moslem — they are honest."
There is no doubt in my mind that the dishonesty of Chris
tian servants — like the dishonesty of Sunday-School super
intendents — has been greatly exaggerated. That many of
them are dishonest, however, is undeniable. And there are
reasons enough why this should be expected. In the first place,
as we have seen, they commonly come from the lowest classes,
among whom dishonesty is not regarded as evil, and often
they are "converted" in name only. Some of these self-styled
"Christians," in fact, have never been accepted as such by
any missionary, but call themselves Christians in the hope of
securing a position thereby.
1 Buddhist Review for January, 1912 (p. 38).
443

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
There are certain more discouraging considerations, how
ever. One hears not infrequently of genuine Christian con
verts from the lower castes mixing up with their Christianity
all sorts of ancient superstitions and animistic rites which the
missionary who converted them had supposed entirely a thing
of the past. Dr. Clough, after laboring in India for forty-five
years, learned to his great surprise and disappointment that
some of his native Christians were not only recurring to their
various ancient rites and ceremonies, but were making use of
his name in these incantations as the deity to be invoked;
while a little way to the south, in another mission field, the
grave of a missionary who had recently died was being covered,
by the native Christians, with marks of worship and signs that
prayers for help had been offered. To prevent this the other
missionaries built a high wall around the grave; and then the
worship was conducted outside the wall.1 And not only do
the converts occasionally lapse back into superstitions; some
of them, if we may believe the European residents of India,
lose rather than gain in morality by the change of religion.
An Englishman whom I questioned said that many of those
who really have been admitted into the Church have thereby
been driven out from their own castes, and so are set adrift
from the old customs and social restraints, which at least were
real, and have failed as yet to get much in their place. If this
be really the case, it is an argument, so far as it goes, against
missions. But the Englishman admitted that a slow improve
ment among Christian converts is noticeable: and he added,
"Of course, it has taken about two thousand years to make
us Europeans even as good Christians as we are; and you
know jolly well you can't make over the native in a day."
If we could "make over the native" in half a dozen genera
tions, — make him over into a thorough Christian — it would
be worth the effort. Can it be done? I asked three missionaries
how in their opinions the second generation of converts com
pared with the first. One of them said that the second genera
tion was much better than the first; the two others said that
in the case of the better class of Indians, Christians of the sec
ond generation were decidedly inferior spiritually and morally
i Social Christianity in the Orient, pp. 394-95.
444

THE QUEEN'S GOLDEN MONASTERY, MANDALAY

CHRISTIAN MISSIONS IN INDIA
to their parents. This (in the opinion of the missionaries) is
due to the fact that these children of Indian Christians have
no strong convictions of their own, have never been called upon
to go through persecutions for their faith, and hence take it as
a matter of course and as a rather external thing.1 A fourth
missionary to whom I put the same question was more hopeful.
The second and third generations, he admitted, were religiously
and spiritually inferior to the first. They lack certain elements
of value which come from suffering for the faith. But morally,
he insisted, they exhibit a real and undeniable advance upon
their parents and grandparents. Especially is this noticeable
in such matters as telling the truth, keeping promises, and
general reliability. When they lie they do it less artistically.
And among all the missionaries with whom I have talked there
is unanimity of opinion that in the lowest classes the second
generation is decidedly more moral and more Christian than
the first. The Provincial Superintendent of the 191 1 census for
the United Provinces says that education is making each gene
ration of native Christians better than the one which preceded
it, and he adds: "The Hindu fellows of these converts have now
to acknowledge not only that they are in many material ways
better off than themselves, but that they are also better
men." And the Census Superintendent in Mysore — himself a
Hindu — writes: "The enlightening influence of Christianity is
patent in the higher standard of comfort of the converts and
in their sober, disciplined, and busy lives." 2
In spite of these comforting words, it must be admitted that
the facts which I have been discussing do not make as en
couraging reading as most missionary reports. It is evident
that many of the "converts" fail to become good Christians.
Yet this fact is hardly conclusive as a proof of the failure of
missions. When the criticism is made that the converts of the
missionary do not make good Christians, the question is very
pertinent, Did they make good Hindus, good Buddhists, good
Moslems? How much of the spiritual meaning of their old
1 It is perhaps significant that the first of these three missionaries (the
one who regarded the second generation as an improvement on the first)
was a Roman Catholic, and the two others were Evangelical Protestants.
1 Quoted by Sir Andrew Fraser, " The Progress of Christianity in India,"
Nineteenth Century and After, for August, 1914 (pp. 468-77)-
445

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
religions have they and their fellows ever got hold of? How
far have they followed its higher precepts? If their Christian
ity is partly a form, what was their Hinduism and Buddhism?
How much of it was a matter of external observance, of making
sounds without meaning? How much has ever been done by
the leaders of their old religions to train them in paths of moral
ity and point them to the highest ideals? Or, if they came from
the outcastes of Indian society, how much better off were they
when performing their magic rites in the jungle or giving
themselves up to vice and violence in the city streets? The
fallacy of the opponents of missions lies largely in the supposi
tion that so long as the Indian is not interfered with he makes
a perfectly good and ideal Hindu or Moslem, or at least a
harmless and happy animist, and gets the best out of his old
faith. The whole of this book should show how false this sup
position is.
And if we turn for our information to the missionaries them
selves, who certainly are in a position to know the nature of
the converts and who would naturally be the first to feel dis
couragement if there were reason for it, we find them all opti
mists. They will tell you of many cases of the most genuine
Christian patience and courage in severe persecution on the
part of Indian converts. They will show you how they are
building not for to-day but for the future — for ten or twenty
generations hence. And some of them will point out to you
the fact already mentioned that the spirit of Christ has per
meated many a locality in India where the Christian creed is
unknown. Nor need you go to the missionary to hear this.
Listen, for instance, to these words from a stout defender of
Hinduism : —
"Though the Indian people will never be Christians, they
have nevertheless not rejected Christ. He is already enshrined
in the hearts of the educated Indians, as the great example of
practical morality. Indeed, it is not too much to say that by
rejecting Christianity, with all its creeds, theories, dogmas, and
ritual, they have caught the spirit of Christ in a more real
sense than would otherwise be the case. . . . And though
Christianity has not gained a solid footing in India it must be
admitted that judged by a higher standard it has not been a
446

CHRISTIAN MISSIONS IN INDIA
failure. It has given us Christ and taught us noble moral and
spiritual lessons which we have discovered anew in our own
scriptures. ... It has awakened a new spirit of inquiry in the
drooping Hindu mind. It has made Hinduism conscious of its
greatness. It has held up to view the baneful effects of certain
soul-degrading customs which used to prevail, and prevail
still, in Hindu society. In short, it has quickened it with new
life, the full fruition of which is not yet. Let not the mission
aries, therefore, retire from the service of humanity which
they have undertaken in India, and which is after all the true
service of God. Let them finish the consecrated task which
they were the first to set hands on, and work the more zeal
ously because there are many laborers in the vineyard of the
Lord now — ' not fanatically nor yet pharisaically, as if they
themselves had nothing to learn,' but with energy and dis
crimination; and the high glory of having restored India to
the proud position she once occupied in the scale of nations
will be theirs." l
1 Jnan Chandra Banerji, op. cit., pp. 9 and 16. I cannot refrain from
quoting also from an editorial in the Prabuddha Bharara for December,
1914. The writer has been pointing out that the spirit of political nation
alism has quite driven Christ out of Europe, and he proceeds thus: " But if
Christ-force finds itself played out in Europe, is there no place on earth to
form the scene of its future workings? Yes, there is, for, as one Indian
preacher once declared to the world, Jesus Christ has come to India. . . .
So India has need of Christ to-day. He has to bear witness through the
Holy Ghost in the life of his disciples in India that Religion is one, that all
the religious Revelations of the world proceed from One Source, and that
the same Word becomes flesh in different ages and climes to effect the atone
ment of man with God. . . . Let Religion rise in India in the full strength
and glory of its unity and universality, and then flood the world again with
the saving waters of a renewed faith in its realities and harmonies. This is
the mission which India has to fulfill through her collective life, and unlike
Europe, therefore, she represents a nation that affords to every saint and
prophet the fullest scop&for their authority and inspiration. And over and
above this, she stands pledged to restore to every prophet and saint their
ministry over the people of their choice, for all creeds will find in the unity
of religion that India preaches to mankind a new inspiration and justifica
tion for their existence and the strongest incentive to progress on their re
spective lines. ... So Europe will re-accept Christ one day: the rebel child
will return to her paternal home once more. How this transformation
would precisely come, it is beyond all human foresight to predict. . . . But
the new Europe that will rise from the ashes will have a real baptism in
Christ, and the wisdom of India will nurse her back to her new life. Till
the time when all that comes to pass, Christ, as we have said, has his work
to do in India, and as we celebrate the birth of Christ this year, with the
447

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
On the whole my own opinion as to the Christian conversion
of India is this: that, on the one hand, the prospect is much
less brilliant than one would gather from certain missionary
books, and that, humanly speaking, it is impossible to predict
that India will ever be entirely Christian; and that, on the
other hand, the results thus far attained have amply justified
the money and men, the thought and effort and human life
which have been expended in the missionary enterprise, and
that one cannot reasonably set any limits to the possibilities
of the future. Unquestionably a great deal more of India can
be converted than has been converted thus far.
And this brings us to the second question concerning mis
sions: Granted that conversion is possible, is it desirable?
"Why," the upholders of this argument against missions will
ask, — "why substitute a new symbolism for an old? All re
ligions teach ultimately the same truths; they differ only in
outer garb, only in words and forms. Why, then, seek to
replace the words and forms and symbols which have grown
hoary and reverent by ages of devotion and which have a hold
over the Indian's imagination and emotion which no new sym
bols, however noble they may seem to you, can ever win?"
This is perhaps the commonest and perhaps also the best of the
arguments against missions. One meets with it surprisingly
often among Christian people. The Indians and the Chi
nese and Japanese, we are told, have religions that in some
ways are very noble. Possibly from an abstract point of view
they are not equal to Christianity; but after all, for each man
his own religion — unless it be positively base — is the best
religion. And this because its symbolism has a hold on him
that no new symbolism can ever acquire.1
There is much truth in this argument; and certainly, if it
distant spectacle of a Europe 'red in tooth and claw' looming before our
eyes, a sense of added ownness, of heightened kinship in present concern
and future purpose, is borne in upon our soul at the contemplation of
Jesus, the Son of God. We feel to-day as never we felt before that he has
come to stay with us, and that the seal of his constant inspiration and au
thority will never be lacking to ratify our national efforts for the establish
ment of the unity of Religion among men."
1 A view practically identical with this is held by one of the most promi
nent and learned of Christian theologians — Professor Troeltsch, of Berlin.
It is also, of course, the common Theosophist view.
448

CHRISTIAN MISSIONS IN INDIA
were a matter only of exchanging one set of symbols for
another^ there would be little justification for missions. But
the argument must stand or fall with the very questionable
assumption that all the great religions are essentially alike,
and differ only in minor details or in outer form. Now, it is
doubtless true that these religions are at one in many of their
teachings; and I think every religious man should rejoice at
the discovery which has been made only in our times that
there is so much in common in all the religions of the world.
Certainly it has not been the aim of this book to minimize any
of this unity or to belittle the nobler sides of the non-Christian
religions. Yet every honest man who has no pre-formed the
sis to support must surely see that between the religions there
are not only likenesses but differences. And the crucial ques
tion so far as missions is concerned comes, therefore, to this:
Are these admitted differences negligible or important, and
is Christianity on the whole sufficiently superior to the other
religions to justify the missionary effort for the conversion of
the non-Christian world?
On a question so involved as this each man must, of course,
form his own opinion, and I shall certainly not venture to force
the reader's view or even to express in full my own. I shall,
however, put forward certain considerations, which should be
taken for what they are worth. In the first place, we should
(and this, I suppose, is evident enough) take for comparison
the best aspects of the different religions concerned and be
careful not to contrast the ideals of one with the actualities
of another. And in the second place, if we are seeking for a
comparison which the followers of other religions than our own
will admit as fair, we must try to view them all from a neu
tral point of view, instead of placing ourselves within one and
judging all others from it. Thus it would be easy, but most
unjudicial, to declare that Christianity is the best religion
because it is true and the others are false. It would be easy for
us to do so, but it would be equally easy for the Mohammedan,
the Buddhist, and the rest to judge our religion in the same
cavalier fashion; and then there would be nothing left for us
to do but exchange dogmatisms and let argument degenerate
into recrimination. For an objective judgment on this matter
449

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
it is safest to take our stand in this world, and compare the
different religions by their verifiable effects upon human life.
Theoretically, of course, we might be able to make fair and ob
jective judgments from some metaphysical point of view; but
for most of us the metaphysical point of view is so influenced
by the religious that such a performance is exceedingly diffi
cult. At any rate, all that I shall have to say on this subject
here will be based on the humbler and safer position.
Christianity and the finer forms of Hindu philosophy have
much in common. Both have highly spiritual views of the
world, both exalt the soul and bring it very close to God. But
there is one difference between them that must not be over
looked. The Vedanta of Shankara and ultimately also the
Vedanta of Ramanuja picture the soul as so dependent upon
God or so lost in Him that there is no place left for real indi
viduality and genuine responsibility and freedom. There is
much that is beautiful and attractive in quietism of this sort;
but every doctrine that denies real freedom to the individual
— freedom even toward God — is a blow at the finest part
of the moral life.
In comparison with Buddhism and Jainism, Christianity
has the unquestionable psychological advantage of the belief
in an active spiritual world, in a living God rather than in a
dead man, or a group of inactive Tirthankaras. This I say
is an advantage from the point of view of human life : it is a
psychological advantage, to which, in fact, the history of Bud
dhism and Jainism bear ample witness. And even if we con
fine our comparison to the field of morality alone, there can be
no question, to my thinking, of the very great superiority of
Jesus's teaching over that of Gautama. Splendidly ethical as
the latter unquestionably is, it takes a subjective point of view
which robs the moral life of its finest aroma. In its attempt to
forget self through negation, it forever focuses thought upon
self and upon the acquisition of merit. Jesus, on the other
hand, in noble objectivity, teaches his followers to forget them
selves by losing themselves in the defense of some noble cause,
in pursuit of some genuine and common value, in strenuous and
devoted service to needy fellow-creatures — which is the only
road to real unselfishness and the surest way to inner peace.
450

CHRISTIAN MISSIONS IN INDIA
And as to Islam, its best form is no doubt very like Uni
tarian Christianity — very like, that is, provided we abstract
from Mohammed and the Koran. The Prophet of Arabia was
far too fallible to serve as an inspiration for any very high
morality; and the Koran, while a true revelation for Arabs
of the seventh century and for Africans of the nineteenth,
must steadily prove more and more a fetter rather than a help,
as modern education increases in the Moslem community.
Much as may be said in praise of Mohammedanism, it still is
true that so far forth as it differs from liberal Christianity, its
philosophy is crude, its ideals are low, and its authoritative
"revelation" is a hindrance to progress.
In comparison with all these religions the moral teachings
of Christianity have certain undeniable advantages. In the
first place, no other religion focuses the attention on sin in
the deepest moral sense as does Christianity. Several religions
have excellent methods of moral training and have long cata
logues of sins; but no other has gone so to the heart of the
matter and shown so unmistakably that in the last analysis
sin is not a matter of habit but of will. As a result Christian
ity has been able to rouse a sense of sin which is the first step
toward a reform of life, and to keep the attention fixed on
the genuinely moral question. And it has been able to do this
because, on the whole, it has a keener and more intelligent
insight into the nature of righteousness than any of its rivals.
For Christianity at its best — as seen, let us say, in the teach
ings of Jesus — never confuses sin with any sort of ritualis
tic uncleanliness, never blurs its ideal of righteousness with
that of the acquisition of merit, nor lowers it by eagerness for
personal advancement — for selfish morality. Other religions
have many admirable precepts: Christianity alone seems to
have realized to the full that love is the fulfillment of the law.
And in saying this I am not forgetting that the "Golden Rule"
and other of the Christian precepts can be duplicated in the
noble scriptures of non-Christian religions. But in none of
these is the principle of loving self-forgetfulness in the ser
vice of others made the one all-determining principle of life,
from which all particular precepts inevitably flow. There
is a largeness, a whole-souled devotion in the Christian spirit
451

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
which all the other religions, in spite of their admirable max
ims, somehow miss. And hand in hand with this superiority
of Christian teaching goes the enormous influence and inspira
tion which stream out from the example of the founder. Jesus
embodies in a concrete and moving fashion, as no other founder
has ever done, humanity's supreme ideals of sacrifice and
service. And I think it is safe to say that no other historical
personality has ever had an influence approaching that of
Jesus as an inspiration and a present help toward the highest
form of self -forgetful usefulness and active love.
The simplicity of Christianity also must be mentioned in
every consideration of the wisdom of an attempt to substitute
it for other religions. There is a fine and spiritual side to all
the religions native to India : but it must be noted that in most
cases this finer side is for the intellectual only and can hardly
be grasped without some philosophy. To the simple minds
who cannot understand this philosophy, the native religions
have little to offer that is not bound up with external forms
and superstitious customs. This is the reason why Hinduism
as seen by the average tourist — the religion of the common
people in the temples — appears so disgusting. The best of
Hinduism is only for the learned. Christianity, on the other
hand, offers its best to the simple. True, various theologies,
various "philosophies of Christianity" have been contrived
for it as difficult as you please and quite incomprehensible to
all but the elect. But it is questionable how much of value
these contain : and it is certain that the finest things in Chris
tian teaching are to be found in the simple talks which Jesus
had with a few fishermen. The fundamental point of view
which Jesus taught and exemplified and which has had such
transforming power wherever it has been fully grasped in its
unperverted form is thus capable of being transmitted directly
to the humblest Indian, to whom the intricacies of the Ve
danta and the arguments of the Buddha must remain forever
sealed. Mohammedanism and Zoroastrianism, of course, are
also simple in their way. But they lack a certain emotional
depth as well as the moral emphasis which distinguishes
Christianity at its best; and above all, as psychological forces,
they lack the power over the imagination and over the active
452

CHRISTIAN MISSIONS IN INDIA
moral life which comes from the partly historical and partly
metaphysical image of Jesus.
It is unfair, you say, to compare the subtle Hindu and
Buddhist philosophies with the simpler form of the Christian
teaching, in their appeal to the uneducated. Perhaps so: but
it is out of every zeal for fairness that I have done it. For I
have sought in all my comparisons to take the non-Christian
religions always at their best. And if we turn from philosophi
cal Hinduism to the actual Hinduism of the great majority
of Hindus, the religion of nearly all the large Shudra caste and
of the Indian villager of every caste, we find a mass of super
stitions, idolatry, external performances, and irrational if not
downright immoral customs which have outlived by a thou
sand years the conditions which originated and excused them
— so far as they ever were excusable. Doubtless all these be
liefs and customs are shot through with symbolic meaning
to him who understands : but how much of this is understood
by the Indian villager? And who is there to teach him?
And this leads me to point out an advantage possessed by
Christianity over all its rivals which is of very considerable
importance and which is seldom mentioned in the compara
tive study of religions. I have in mind here the practical
methods by which Christianity is applied. The real value of a
religion, as a matter of fact, depends not only upon its teach
ings, but also upon its teachers. There is perhaps more con
trast between the different religions in their practice than
in their theory. Islam, for instance, is in theory opposed to
sensuality; but in reality it does almost nothing to stop it.
Christians no doubt are often sensual; but not only does Chris
tian teaching forbid it: Christian teachers strenuously and
actively oppose it and take every measure in their power to
guard the young against it. It is all very well to say that the
Moslems need none of our missionaries, and that if they would
practice their own religion they would be a very good lot.
Who is there to induce them to practice it? Their own leaders
do not really try to do so. Shall the missionary, then, under
take it? And shall he preach to them Islam or the religion
in which he himself heart and soul believes? The greatest
weakness of the non-Christian religions, as I think our study of
453

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
them in the preceding chapters has shown, is not so much the
lack of noble thoughts and high ideals, but rather the almost
complete lack of any efficient system or institution for com
municating those ideas and ideals, and the hampering effects
of a superstitious conservatism that puts the letter before the
spirit. Not one of the religions studied has as yet any univer
sal and efficient system of religious education. With most of
them what the children shall learn of their religion is left
largely to chance, and chance usually sees to it that they learn
the least valuable parts. Consider, moreover, the authorita
tive scriptures of the various religions — the sources, as they
maintain, of their highest ideals and noblest conceptions. I
have not in mind here a comparison of them with the Bible —
though that would be disadvantageous enough for all of them:
I mean here merely to remind the reader that almost all of
these books are practically inaccessible because quite unin
telligible to the great majority of those who found their faiths
upon them. The authoritative scriptures and the prayers and
ritual of the Hindus are, for the most part, in Sanskrit; those
of the Jainas in Sanskrit and Prakrit; the Granth of the Sikhs
is in ancient Punjabi; the Koran is in Arabic; the Avesta of
the Parsees in Zend ; and the Pitakas of the Buddhists in Pali.
All of these are dead languages, languages which only the few
learned ones understand. And translations, though they
sometimes exist, are rarely used. What sort of spiritual pabu
lum is this for the hungry soul? And not only so, but the non-
Christian religions are notably ill-provided with professional
workers in the cause of religion and morals. It is nobody's
business to take an interest in the moral welfare of the com
munity and of its various individual members. Each man
must look out for himself with little help from others. To
be sure, there is something corresponding to our clergy in
most of the non-Christian religions; but consider them. The
Buddhists and Jainas have monks who do a little educational
work of a primitive sort and who sometimes preach an occa
sional sermon — but who for the most part are too busy sav
ing their own souls to look out for any one else's. The Moham
medans have no clergy at all — only a kind of combination
reader and janitor whose work is confined to the mosque. The
454

CHRISTIAN MISSIONS IN INDIA
Parsee priests are the least respected and often the most ig
norant members of the community. The Sikh priests do little
but read once or twice a day out of an ancient book in an un
known tongue, and spend the rest of the time plying a brush
made of peacock feathers and seeking baksheesh. The Hindu
gurus are for the most part disseminators of superstition.
And the Brahmin priests — of them it were, perhaps, best to say
nothing at all. They are as a rule lazy, ignorant, avaricious;
their official occupation is pouring water on a lingam, repeat
ing verses a large part of which they do not understand, put
ting mystic marks on the foreheads of the faithful with cow-
dung (for a consideration) , and squeezing money from the pious
pilgrim. And the rest of the truth about them is hardly fit
to print.
Compare with this dearth of all preparedness for nourish
ing the spiritual life, the admirable equipment which our Chris
tianity brings with it: our Scriptures read in the vernacular
at every public service and learned and loved in the home;
our Sunday-Schools for the young, our sermons on the higher
life for the old ; our persistent watchfulness against every kind
of moral danger, and our trained and truly devoted clergy, who,
in spite of the taunts occasionally leveled at them, do devote
their lives to the safeguarding of the morals of the community
and the upbuilding of the nobler virtues. Certainly system and
institutions and "efficiency" are not everything; but given
two religions whose teachings are equally good, the one that
has an organization like the Christian will have far greater
effect on the moral life of the community than will the other,
however noble its philosophy, if it be no better provided for
actual work than are the non-Christian religions of India.
This to my mind is one of the strongest arguments in favor of
missions, and one which, as it seems to me, should appeal to
every moral man no matter what his view may be of the subtle
ties of Christian theology. If Christianity, under the guidance
of a body of devoted men like our missionaries, were to be
come the religion of a substantial part of India's population,
there can be little doubt of the enormous uplift in moral
and social conditions that would be felt throughout the whole
land. 455

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
How can this be brought about? What is the most promis
ing policy of the missionary enterprise for the achievement of
this great aim? On the details of this question I have no opin
ion and am quite unqualified to speak. The problem has been
carefully studied by the gentlemen of the missionary boards
and by the missionaries themselves, and discussed with great
wisdom at missionary conferences, and it would be presump
tuous for me to hazard an opinion as to methods if I had one.
There are, however, two questions connected with the general
policy of Christian missions on which mere outside observers
like the reader and myself have a right to an opinion, and
concerning which I should like to offer a few quite common
place remarks. The questions I have in mind are the attitude
of the missionary toward the religions which he seeks to sup
plant, and his attitude toward Christianity.
As I have already pointed out in an earlier part of this
chapter, the missionary's attitude toward the non-Christian
religions of India has changed very considerably even in the
last twenty-five years. In the old days he thought his first
duty was to attack the religion of his hearers with all the vio
lence of which he was capable, and to assure them that hell
fire was waiting for all the unbaptized. Missionary literature,
whether at home or abroad, was filled with denunciations of
the heathen in his blindness — a policy which was due partly
to a misconception of the best way of attracting the unregen-
erate, and partly to real ignorance concerning the finer side
of the native religions. Missionary sermons and writings have
now quite a different tone. The Christian Literature Society
at Colombo, to be sure, is still situated on "Dam Street,"
but this fact has lost its old significance. Typical of modern
missionary books is Howell's recent and excellent work, "The
Soul of India," in which the author exhibits at length and with
scholarly care the points not of contrast but of agreement be
tween Christianity and Hinduism; and typical also is the more
recent and more excellent " Crown of Hinduism," by Farquhar,
which seeks to demonstrate (as its title signifies) that Chris
tianity has come to India not so much to destroy as to fulfill.
The attitude of an increasing number of missionaries is repre
sented by the following wise words which I take from the last
456

CHRISTIAN MISSIONS IN INDIA
Report of the World's Missionary Conference: "More harm
has been done in India than in any other country by mission
aries who lacked the wisdom to appreciate the nobler side of
the religion which they have labored so indefatigably to sup
plant. . . . Below the strange form and hardly intelligible
language lies life, the spiritual life of human souls, needing
God, seeking God, laying hold of God, so far as they have
found Him. Until we have at least reached so far that under
the ceremonies and doctrines we have found the religious life
of the people, we do not know what Hinduism really is."
This new policy of the more liberal missionaries of recogniz
ing generously all that is best in the native religions and build
ing so far as possible on foundations already at hand, instead
of seeking to destroy everything in sight, is steadily growing.
Thus we would seem to be approaching a reconciliation be
tween Christianity and the Indian religions. And many of
the representatives of these religions are willing to go half
way. Especially is this true of the Hindus. Many of them
would be glad to accept Christ as one of the numerous ex
pressions of God and of the truth, and to merge Christianity
within Hinduism. But here we reach a point beyond which
the missionaries are not willing to go. They insist not only
upon the acceptance of Christ, but also upon the renunciation
of the old gods and of certain of the old customs and the
recognition of the distinctive teachings of Christianity. For,
as we have seen, they hold that while there is much in com
mon between Christianity and the Indian religions, there
are also points of contrast, and that these differences are of
very real importance. To many this exclusive attitude of the
Christian missionary may seem narrow, but I am convinced
that a certain amount of it, at any rate, is justified. If the
missionaries should agree to an amalgamation of Christianity
with Hinduism, the Christian side of the partnership would
soon disappear in the capacious maw of its ever hungry
partner. It would be a partnership like that in which the lion
and the lamb lie down together, with the lamb inside. Christ
would simply be added to the pantheon (which, with its thirty-
three million gods, is hardly in need of an addition) ; or He
would be made an eleventh incarnation of Vishnu, and before
457

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
many generations all that is distinctively Christian would
disappear from India as completely as Buddhism did after
Vishnu had swallowed Gautama. There is much that is fine
in the Vedanta, and Ramanuja's formulation of it in particu
lar is in some respects strikingly like certain aspects of Chris
tian teaching. One branch of this school, in fact, as we have
seen, maintains the freedom of the will. Yet as a practical
and actual matter the tendency of Indian thought is to leave
quite unemphasized the importance of the individual and his
responsibility. And if we are seriously considering a partner
ship with Vaishnavism we should pay more attention to this
almost universal Indian tendency than to the theology of one
of its sub-sects. For most Indian theologians, whether Vaish
navite or of any other school, there is little place for personal
freedom, for genuine moral struggle and individual achieve
ment, little place for virtue and sin as Christianity conceive
them, little place, in short, for real individuality and responsi
bility. And these are things which Christianity cannot give
up without sacrificing all that moral earnestness which is its
very life.
But perhaps the chief reason why Christianity cannot
afford to let Christ be made an avatara of Vishnu is not to be
found in its disapproval of Vaishnavite theology, but rather
in a realization of the incalculable loss that would result to it
— and to humanity — if Christ should be put on a level with
the present Vaishnavite incarnations. Not to mention the
earlier ones — the fish, tortoise, boar, and the rest — consider
the perfectly mythical Rama and the mythical and immoral
Krishna (he of the sixteen thousand concubines). The Chris
tian view of the incarnation possesses two inestimable advan
tages over the Vaishnavite view, advantages which it must
cling to at any and every cost — the undoubted historicity of
its God-man, and the fact that in both His life and His teach
ings is to be found the supreme moral ideal.
But if the missionary should and must insist upon keeping
the fundamental Christian view unmixed and pure, it does
not follow that he should reject all the beliefs and institutions
of Indian religions. The attempt to foist Christianity in its
present Western garb upon the Indian as a complete substi-
458

CHRISTIAN MISSIONS IN INDIA
tute for his old religion is of doubtful wisdom. There is so
much that is fine and genuinely spiritual in the nobler forms
of faith native to India that it will be a great pity if some means
cannot be found for preserving these within Indian Christian
ity. Did God, indeed, speak only in Palestine, that his voice
is not to be heard in the Upanishads? And is our Western
form of Christianity the only proper form? Too often we
forget that Jesus himself was an Oriental.1
When the Western world was converted to Christianity, it
not only adopted the new religion as its own : it adapted it to
the various needs and desires and ways of thinking already
dominant in Europe. Our Western type of intellect, with its
love of exact definition, promptly formulated Christianity in
various doctrines and dogmas which served their day and gen
eration remarkably well. It is a question, however, whether
some of these doctrines have not nearly lost their useful
ness in the West; and it is doubly questionable whether the
East, whose type of mind is so different from our own, should
be made to accept these dogmas as the condition of receiv
ing Christianity. We have seen how great an obstacle some
of these ancient dogmas are in the conversion of the more
intelligent Indians, and it seems extremely unlikely that we
shall ever be able to convert any large number of them to a
belief in our mediaeval creeds. We must remember that the
higher classes of India are not children nor savages; that they
are men mostly of our race; and that they not only have an
ancient and abstruse philosophy of their own, but that many
of them are very wide awake to what is going on in the intel
lectual world of Europe. They are not to be fooled into sup
posing that all is peace within the camp of Christendom, nor
to be docilely inoculated with views which most of our theo
logical seminaries at home have given up. They read our
philosophy and science, they are acquainted with the modern
revolt against authority, sometimes they know more about
the Higher Criticism than do the missionaries with whom
they dispute. If we who have been brought up in an atmos
phere of reverence for the old symbols are unable any longer
1 Cf. Mozoomdar's admirable work, The Oriental Christ. (Boston,
George H. Ellis, 1898.) 459

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
to accept them in the old way, is it likely that the intelligent
Indians, to whom our symbols are strange and some of our
dogmas unintelligible, will ever be converted to a vital belief
in these things? I would not for a moment suggest a doubt as
to whether Christ has a message for these Indians, and one
which they can accept and understand and which they need.
He has a message for all of them, for the highest as well as the
lowest. But I am not sure that the Nicene Fathers have.
But even if it were possible to persuade these men of the
truth of our ancient dogmas, would it be desirable to do so?
Should we really be doing India a service by converting it to
beliefs which we of the West have been giving up these past
fifty years and which our own experience shows us are hardly
compatible with modern ways of thinking? For we should
remember that while Hinduism has inevitably been under
mined by the progress of modern thought, it has not been
alone in suffering this catastrophe. The scholastic theology
of the Middle Ages, part of which we still officially profess,
has become almost equally incredible to most thinking men.
Would it be wise or kind to convert the Indians to views which
we know are no longer defensible, even if we could? Consider
the pain, the heart-break, the skepticism that we of the West
have had to go through these past fifty years in recognizing
our lack of genuine belief in certain doctrines that still remain
upon our official creeds. Can we seriously wish to put our
Indian brothers back where we were fifty years ago, and ask
them to go through the same sad and wasteful test?
Probably most of my readers will agree with me that our
more conservative missionaries are making a mistake in pre
senting Christianity in a form which Christendom itself is fast
outgrowing. And I personally should go even farther than
this, and question whether there are not some doctrines which
we who have been brought up within Christian traditions
may well cling to, but which it would be unwise to foist upon
our Indian converts. Let those who wish to pursue theology
study these things, but why teach them as a really essential
part of our religion? Can we not wait till we have exhausted
the sources of Galilee before turning to Nicaea, and Rome and
Geneva and Westminster? Let us seriously ask ourselves
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CHRISTIAN MISSIONS IN INDIA
whether it be wise to teach the Indians the various points of
"Christology"; the stories from the Old Testament which
the "natural man," with a natural conscience, usually finds
rather questionable; the infallibility and inerrancy of the
Scriptures; the creation of the world out of nothing; God's
choice of Israel as His only "chosen people"; the Apostolic
Succession; the "Plan of Salvation," with its machinery of
blood, faith, and grace as "our only ground for hope"; the
Eternal Damnation of all those not properly "justified"? The
reader can fill out the list as well as I. And must we even
insist that God's only revelation was made to men of the
Hebrew race? Must we teach the Indians that in coming
to believe in Christ they must give up all faith in their own
revered prophets — Buddha, Mohammed, Zarathustra, and
the rest? Must we demand that they surrender their belief
in transmigration and the eternal nature of the soul and the
inevitable law of moral cause and effect, and that they substi
tute for it our doctrine that the soul originates at the birth of
the body, and at the body's death it goes to an everlasting
heaven or hell? Are we, then, so sure of these things ourselves?
Or that God must not be called Brahman nor Allah nor Ahura,
but spells His name G-O-D?
We have in the mission field a great opportunity, not only
for spreading Christianity, but for purifying and strengthen
ing it, an opportunity of freeing it from the dogmas which
have served their day and are now no longer of any real serv
ice, but must in the future more and more prove fetters and
chains in its progress. We have an opportunity of preserving
the kernel of Christianity and throwing aside its husk — an
opportunity which may serve us not only in " converting the
heathen," but in defending all that is really Christian against
the assaults of agnosticism at home, and of deepening the
spiritual life of Christendom by putting the emphasis at last
on the place where Jesus put it. If we take this course and,
no longer misled by the spell of ancient symbols, concentrate
our efforts on spreading the spirit of Christ, we shall have
every reason to be hopeful of the success of Christian mis
sions. If we take the opposite course and, insisting on the
substitution of our symbolism for the Indians', seek to nourish
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INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
their spiritual life on dogmas which no longer genuinely feed
our own, we shall surely fail.
But Christianity shall not fail. It shall not fail because it
shall be carried over all the world in hands more worthy than
ours, and by men who know that the Kingdom of God cometh
not by observation. It may not be under the name "Chris
tian" that His Kingdom shall come, but the true follower of
the Master will not greatly care for words and spelling, so
that the cause triumphs. He may find that God's ways are
not our ways, and that the teachings of Christ take deepest
root when the conventional wrappings in which we have cov
ered them are stripped away. And if he finds them grafted
on to the old religions and transforming them in everything
but name, he will not quarrel with his brother Christian be
cause of their disguise.
Yes, in the large sense at least, the missionary enterprise
must succeed, because the spirit of Christ is the missionary
spirit. Perhaps the greatest reproach of the non-Christian
religions is their lack of missionary zeal; and the greatest
argument for the superiority of Christianity is the fact that
it is supremely the missionary religion. One might even go
so far as to say that a religion deserves to succeed just in so
far as it has the missionary spirit. For the missionary spirit
is the spirit of loving service; it is the incarnation of Chris
tianity. Hence it is astounding to find "Christians," as one
so often does, who "do not believe in missions." For where-
ever "Christianity" ceases to be a missionary religion it
ceases to be Christian. And if Christianity be taken in the
large sense, if, in short, it be identified with the spirit of Christ,
whoever loves humanity must wish well to Christian mis
sions, and whoever believes in humanity must have good
hopes of the missionary's ultimate success. For Christianity
has a message which the non-Christian world cannot do with
out. And the delivery of this message is the greatest debt that
the West owes to the East.

CHAPTER XXI
WHAT THE WEST MIGHT LEARN
THE voyage back from India to Europe is not merely a
passage of the body from one continent to another: it
is a voyage of the soul among changing psychological climes.
And when at last one sets foot upon European soil in some
great port, the contrasts of the new with the old that strike
one are both material and spiritual. The great superiority of
the European laborer, clerk, manager, over the Asiatic in in
telligence and efficiency, the marks of centuries of mechanical
progress, the care of public health, the evidences of almost
superfluous wealth — these are among the things that are first
to be noticed. There are other contrasts besides these. One
of the first things that I saw on landing was a typical Euro
pean cafe. It was a pleasant sight after those many months
of impoverished natives and exiled Englishmen. I sat and
watched the people at the tables, drinking their beer, sipping
their coffee, smoking their cigarettes, and munching their
sweets. How fat they were, how well-dressed, how compla
cent, how gemuthlich: in short, how different from an Indian
crowd! I asked myself in what this difference consisted.
Partly, no doubt, in costume and the loss of color, partly in
avoirdupois, in complacency. But I thought the most striking
difference between it and a company of Indians was to be
found in the appearance of the women and in the attitude of
the men toward them. When I looked attentively at the in
dividual women at the tables round me, there could be no
doubt who and what many of them were. And the bearing of
their male companions made the relation between them quite
transparent. I left the cafe and walked through the crowded
streets. Everywhere the same symptoms of the great social
disease of the West presented themselves. And I learned anew
that an Indian woman with but two small rags may be mod
estly attired; and a European woman may be indecently clad,
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INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
though robed in many metres of costly stuffs. Brought up
as we are in the midst of this sort of thing, it is hard for us
to understand the feelings of an Asiatic when he first visits
Europe. The blatancy with which the social vice is paraded
through our city streets comes to him as a kind of blow in the
face. I have talked with many Indians who have visited the
West, — Hindu, Mohammedan, Buddhist, and Parsee, — and
when I asked for their impressions of Europe and America
I have discovered almost invariably (in spite of their cour
teous attempt to soften their words) that the open and wide
spread immoralities of our cities, our enticing and feeding of
depraved tastes, our public indecencies, come to them with a
shock that they have never been able to forget. It seems to
them almost incredible: — as though on being introduced
into a costly palace they found its interior a pigsty.
I do not say there is no social vice in India and no im
purity of thought. Of course there is. On certain occasions
some of the Indians (like the ancient Greeks) feel called upon
to sing indecent songs, even in religious festivals. Many rich
natives keep mistresses, and in certain quarters of some of the
towns public women are to be found. But no man dares, or
cares, to flaunt these women in the public streets, and when
ever they appear they are indistinguishable in costume from
others.1 One could easily spend a lifetime in India and never
see a woman indecently clad nor one whose actions were in any
way immodest. More than that: he might go to the native
theater repeatedly and never see an erotic or suggestive play; he
might walk the streets and visit the shops endlessly and never
see an indecent picture, except those due to European influence.
The Indians are relatively naive and childlike compared with
us in the West. The arts of suggestion and hidden allusion they
have not learned. The sexual life is taken as a matter of course,
— quite objectively, — but not gilded and bedecked and senti
mentalized and philosophized 2 and gloated over. A mission
ary who knows them and their language well — and who
1 A traveled Indian gentleman said to me, "No Indian prostitute would
have anything to do with such public obscenities as any one may see in the
suburbs of Chicago."
2 Exception should here be made of certain Vaishnavite and Shakti sects.
464

WHAT THE WEST MIGHT LEARN
certainly holds no brief in their praise — told me that for
many years he has listened to their conversation while they
(supposing him ignorant of their language) talked quite freely
with each other. And never has he overheard an obscene story
or a vulgar allusion from them. This may be typical and it may
not.1 What the inner state of the Indian's mind may be I do
not know. But I know that he has a sense of outer decency
which we of the West might well borrow from him.
We might also borrow from him with some profit his sense of
the indecency of drunkenness. For centuries the influence
of Hinduism has been exerted against excessive drinking, and
Mohammedanism and Buddhism have prohibited intoxicants
altogether; and these forces — with other forces allied — have
built up a public opinion in all the upper classes of the Indian
people against strong drink. European example is, indeed,
beginning to break this down; but it is still possible to spend
years in India and never see a drunken native.
I cherish no sentimental belief in the superiority of the
Oriental. I am not one of those who would keep him unspoiled
from all Western influence. The West has a great deal that the
East might well learn, and must learn if it is to progress and
throw off the chains of very evil custom that make the life of
its millions miserable. But I also believe that there are a few
things — a very few, perhaps — which the efficient and saga
cious "up-to-date" West could afford to imitate from the
simple, quiet, antiquated East. It is some of these things —
only two or three — that I wish to speak of in this last chapter.
I have already mentioned outward decency, and I shall add
to this but one thing more. But how this one thing should be
named I am at a loss to say. It is the root from which the In
dian's temperance and his sense of public decorum grow. It is
not a social custom or any isolated characteristic, but an atti
tude of mind, rather; a kind of inwardness, a feeling about life
and about the world that expresses itself in the man's exter
nal bearing and is the inner side of all the virtues that he has.
It is a kind of simplicity, a quietness, an innate modesty and
lack of self-obtrusiveness — which has, in fact, resulted in a
1 I am told by another missionary that in Gujarati, where he lives, the
Indians are by no means so pure in heart or pure of tongue.
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INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
reputation for passivity — an interest in the inner world which
in many develops into what might be called a realization of
the soul.
The simplicity of the Oriental and his modesty and lack of
self-assertiveness give the clue to much of the charm of Indian
life. A native village may be unsanitary and unclean, but one
never finds in it a touch of vulgarity, just as one may see a
coolie clad in a loin-cloth or a woman nursing her baby in the
streets and find in neither the slightest suggestion of immod
esty. Immodesty and vulgarity are things of the mind, and
the na'ive simplicity of the Indian make both very rare. This
same lack of self-assertiveness and of preoccupation with the
thought of worldly gain and of one's own importance make for
both quietness and peace. There is little shouting in an Indian
street and no fighting. Compared with these Indians we West
erners seem so noisy, so big-footed, so domineering, so con
scious of our importance. Doubtless we are important. But a
touch of Oriental modesty and quietness and simplicity would
not harm us.
It is in part this lack of preoccupation with the thought of
self-importance, joined with a fine sensitiveness, that makes
the Indian so reluctant to take life. It would be a mistake to
say that the Indian is more sympathetic than the European.
But he has learned, through centuries of development and from
various causes, to have a feeling of repugnance at the thought
of killing which is quite as comparable to the musician's pain
at discord as it is to the moralist's hatred of sin. It is largely
this cesthetic feeling which is at the bottom of much of the In
dian's antipathy to meat-eating. If asked to dine on roast
beef, he feels as if his host had said, "Come and eat a dead
cow with me!" To him the thought of our Chicago slaughter
houses, with their streams of blood, receiving daily, as they do,
thousands of splendid and beautiful creatures in all the pride
of health, and sending out in their stead tons of dead carcasses
to be devoured by us human animals, — this thought, I say,
seems to him simply horrible. This sensitiveness to the bad
taste of taking life we Westerners have never yet attained to.
We are not far enough away from the hunter stage of aesthetic
development. The instinct of the chase, which loves killing for
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WHAT THE WEST MIGHT LEARN
its own sake, is still strong in us, and the white-livered brown
man of India who does not share it with us we think a "molly
coddle." It might be interesting to know what the Indians
think of us. It would be especially interesting to know what
the Buddhist and the Jaina, with their real sympathy for all
living things, would say of us. The contrast of the East and the
West on this particular was once brought home to me on a trip
down the Irrawaddy. The ship was crowded with Buddhist
deck passengers — men and women who had been taught from
childhood that the commandment, "Thou shalt not kill," in
cludes all forms of animal life, and means real good-will toward
all living things. At one of the stations an Englishman came on
board, and the contrast between him and the deck passengers
was sufficiently striking — the Burmese, living on a purely
vegetable diet and drinking only water, low- voiced, courteous
in manner, kindly and sympathetic toward every form of life
however low; and the big Englishman returning from the hunt
with a dozen little dead birds strung along a stick and the
skulls of three dead deer as tokens of his great prowess — deer
which he had killed not for meat, but for the fun of killing
them; his trophies carried behind him by as many meek, bare
footed Bengali servants, as he walked proudly along the deck
with great steps and large feet, issuing his orders in a loud
voice, and later on sitting down to his dinner of fish, mutton,
duck, and two courses of beef, accompanied by several glasses
of the unfailing whiskey-and-soda. The next day the same con
trast was again illustrated. A flock of wild ducks was resting
on the waters ahead of us, and when we reached them they
rose and flew parallel to our course in graceful lines. It was a
charming sight, and we were all watching it, when we heard
a crack and then another and another. One of the officers of
the ship — a fine young Englishman filled with our Anglo-Saxon
love of "sport" which is so carefully inculcated upon most of
us in our youth by elders and juniors alike — had seen the
game (but not the beauty), and seized the opportunity. He
kept on firing at the ducks till they were far beyond his range.
He knew at the start that there was no possibility of get
ting any of the birds that he might succeed in hitting — the
ship would not be stopped for that. He had no thought of
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INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
replenishing the larder. He just wanted to kill the ducks for the
pleasure of proving his marksmanship, and asserting his will;
and also from the hunter's joy in seeing the birds drop with
broken wing, flutter into the water, flounder, and drift by,
dying or dead. And he surely was a very typical product of
our Western culture with its love of self-assertion and its cult
of "sport." I understand no Burmese, so could not catch the
comments of our "molly-coddle" third-class passengers. Poor
things, they are still quite primitive in their ideas and have
not yet been educated up to "sport." But if the precept and
example of the West are of any avail they shall not long be
left thus benighted. Brace up, O Burman! Be a man! Assert
yourself! Kill something!
Another aspect of the Eastern lack of self-assertiveness —
and perhaps a deeper aspect — is its lack even of self -con
sciousness. There is a naivete about the unspoiled Indian
which is found in the West only among children — and great
men. The Indian is not always asking himself how this or that
will look; what people will think if he does thus or so. Hence he
can be natural in a way that we seldom are.1 When the proper
time of day arrives the Mohammedan falls on his knees, wher
ever he may be, and prays. He seeks neither to attract atten
tion nor to avoid it. On the village street you see him kneeling,
on the vessel's deck, in the fields, on the hillside. The fact that
you stand in front of him staring neither pleases nor disquiets
nor embarrasses him. He is sure that it is good to pray at the
appointed hours, and quite as natural as to breathe the air.
But this would be impossible for a Westerner. If one of us
should try it, every one would be sure it was a "pose." And
this because we Westerners have for centuries cultivated a
habit of acting before the mirror. In place of the spontaneous
and unreflecting good taste that more primitive peoples, like
the Indian, possess, we have cultivated a complex and artificial
decorum which almost banishes true naturalness from our
possibilities. It is one of the most difficult things in the world
for us to be simple: only the great succeed. And the root of our
1 An exception should be made of the Buddhist monk, whose constant
preoccupation with "selflessness" and merit make him at times stiffly self-
conscious. 468

WHAT THE WEST MIGHT LEARN
almost unconquerable stiffness and artificiality is the thought
of self. It was in this that both Jesus and Buddha found the
root-evil of mankind. Not only is it "self whereby we suffer."
It is self whereby we sin and self whereby we are ridiculous.
There is so much in our Western world to remind us constantly
of ourselves that the exhortation, "Forget yourself," is almost
impossible of fulfillment. Yet in a sense that is the final task of
all self -culture. "Except ye become as little children, ye shall
in no wise enter into the Kingdom of Heaven."
The self-consciousness of the West and its self-assertiveness
result in what every Eastern visitor calls our "materialism."
When one first begins reading Oriental journals or talking
with intelligent Orientals about the West, he comes upon one
of the many surprises that are ever awaiting the Westerner in
the East. He expects that the Oriental will be quite as dazzled
with the brilliancy of our Western material civilization as we
at home are. He finds a very different view of things. The
Oriental admits our cleverness and inventiveness, our power,
wealth, and luxury. But he refuses to be dazzled. And not
only so. He tells us also that our mechanical devices, our
wealth and luxury, are fetters that bind our souls. This is a
surprise, indeed : for many of us Westerners are astounded that
the "heathen" should know about the soul at all, and a still
larger number of us have forgotten — or have never heard
— that there was such a thing. Yet the Indian will insist upon
this point. " You Westerners," he will say, " have built a Mo
loch that is now devouring you. You accuse the East of wor
shiping stocks and stones, and perhaps this is true: — but is it
any nobler to worship silver and gold? You are the servants of
things; the slaves of a convention which measures respecta
bility by possession. You cram your houses with things —
costly or cheap — and then build greater houses to store more
things; you cover your backs and load your bodies with them,
to make a show, and when you have worn them five times the
fashion has changed and they must be thrown aside. With
thirty gowns your women are wretched because they have
nothing to wear! And you not only stuff your wardrobes, your
houses and barns, your cities, your lands and the very seas
with an endless load of things : you stuff your minds and hearts
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INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
with them. You have no time to think of the Invisible, nor any
real faith in it. You cannot learn to love the Eternal, for things
have blinded your eyes and stopped your ears. With wonderful
energy you have banished the fear of the snake and of the
pestilence; but you have made for yourselves a terror more
terrible than they. You are afraid to be poor. You are so
convinced that a man's life consisteth in the multitude of the
things that he possesseth that you have almost identified pov
erty with disgrace. And on the other hand, the wealth that you
gain (and unquestionably you are good at that business !) —
the wealth that you do gain brings you little satisfaction. So
that your whole life is a race after something you know not
what. You do not know what you want and you will not take
the time even to ask the question. Doubtless the East has
failed of gaining its end because it has not used the proper
means: but the West has been so busy providing itself with
means that it has no end and aim at all."
Whatever may be the truth of this accusation against the
West, certain it is, at any rate, that the East has always
known exactly what it most supremely desired, and in the pur
suit of its ideal it has never been afraid of poverty or of any
thing else. Bodily comforts it has despised, and bodily suffering
it has even welcomed if by such means the soul might profit.
The history of Indian asceticism forms, indeed, a sad story, and
the sights one finds along the Ganges are sometimes revolting
enough. Yet in this ideal of crucifying the flesh for the sake of
the spirit there is something noble, and hidden under the un-
pleasing aspect of Indian self-denial and mortification there is a
rather fine protest against our Western pampering of the body
and our constant preoccupation with its comfort. It is easy for
us, no doubt, to smile at the poor Jaina pulling all his hairs out
one by one and starving himself to death at the end in order to
attain Moksha and free his soul from the fetters of the flesh;
and doubtless the Jaina is mistaken in his choice of the means.
But is there not something truly fine in his earnest seeking
after the end, his profound faith in the spiritual, and his scorn
of the material when it stands in his soul's way? How many
of us believe in our souls deeply enough to starve our bodies
to death for the soul's sake? Nay, I fear there are some of us,
470

RECLINING BUDDHA, IN THE JUNGLE NEAR RANGOON

WHAT THE WEST MIGHT LEARN
with all our Christian professions, who would hesitate to give
up regularly one of our three meals a day, or to pull out so
much as ten hairs, in order to redeem our souls from their
slavery to a world of things. Our souls may take their chance,
but at all costs there must be no physical suffering ! How much
of our time and our best thought goes to the preparation of
purely physical comforts — foods of the right flavor, clothes of
the right cut, houses of the right temperature, and the rest, so
that many of us have no time to think of greater things! How
this softness of the West, this coddling of the flesh is rebuked by
the stern austerities of India! How cheap it all becomes at
the sight of the sannyasi who has renounced everything for the
culture of his soul!
For the culture of the soul has been, and is still, the one great
ideal of India. Conquest, government, money-making, pleas
ure, the things that have occupied the chief attention of the
West, have been for India of very secondary importance. The
jutting rocks and mountain passes of Europe are crowned with
the frowning walls of mediaeval castles and modern fortresses;
in India there are but few castles, and the forts are of European
building. But every little hill has its temple, and the mountain
passes are the dwellings of the gods. At Pagan, in Burma, the
eastern bank of the Irrawaddy is lined for many miles with
pagodas of every shape and size and color. Ten thousand of
them there are, altogether, and they have been pointing up
ward these many centuries to remind all who pass of him who
taught the Buddhist world that the one thing supremely worth
while was not to be found in material possessions, but in the
life of the spirit. These pagodas are the embodiment of the
intense conviction and the supreme ideal of the East. Oppo
site them, on the western bank of the river, are other struc
tures. These have been built by the West, — and shall I say
that they express its deepest conviction and ideals? They are
of iron, these Western productions, angular, ugly, but very
useful. They are useful, namely, in the extraction of petroleum
from the ground ; for these are oil wells. Doubtless a great deal
of good stone was wasted in the construction of the pagodas;
and how shall we assess the cash value of an ideal? But oil is
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INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
"Beauty of place," writes Sister Nivedita, "translates
itself to the Indian consciousness as God's cry to the soul.
Had Niagara been situated on the Ganges, it is odd to think
how different would have been its valuation by humanity. In
stead of fashionable picnics and railway pleasure-trips, the
yearly or monthly incursion of worshiping crowds; instead of
hotels, temples; instead of ostentatious excess, austerity; in
stead of the desire to harness its mighty forces to the chariot
of human utility, the unrestrained longing to throw away the
body, and realize at once the ecstatic madness of Supreme
Union. Could contrast be greater?" 1
As this quotation itself suggests, the methods that India has
used for the culture of the soul have not always been wise.
But she has at least maintained her ideal consistently through
the centuries. Not the Master of Industry with his millions,
not the Boss of Big Business, has roused her enthusiasm and
thrilled her imagination; this has been done only by the sann
yasi, going out from house and home, with no possession but
his begging-bowl, to be alone with God.
Nor is this a thing of the past in India. The soul and its cul
ture are still the first care of men of every cult. Worship and
contemplation are still the great occupation — I do not say the
great duty, but the great opportunity — of life. A friend of
mine in Calcutta has a servant and a clerk. The servant
spends every spare hour of his twenty-four worshiping at the
shrine of Kali; and the clerk — a man still under forty — is
saving his money so that in a year or two he may leave his
family well provided and wander forth as a sannyasi to spend
the rest of his days in meditation. To us Westerners this seems
incomprehensible, and doubtless it is extreme. But it is not
merely its extreme form that seems to us so strange. The very
notion of contemplation has become to us both unintelligible
and unendurable. We cannot even with Walt Whitman loaf
and invite our souls. We cannot — or rather will not — in
vite our souls because in the first place some of us doubt
whether we have any, and in the second, many of us would be
bored or rather frightened if our souls should accept the in
vitation. We say we have no time for contemplation — we
1 The Web of Indian Life, p. 262.
472

WHAT THE WEST MIGHT LEARN
have too much to do to spend our minutes in that fashion ; but
this is an evasion. The truth is we do not know how to medi
tate and are afraid to learn. Extra time we have — plenty of
it; but what do we do with it? Some of us pick up a book,
others go to the theater or to a moving-picture show, according
to our taste, and if nothing else offers we can at least find some
one to talk with — or talk to ; not that we want to exchange
ideas, but that we don't want to be alone with ourselves. Va
ried as our respective pastimes are, they have this in common :
they are all "diversions." We want to be diverted. Diverted
from what? From our business and our cares, no doubt, but
also from all serious thoughts. I question whether there is one
man in fifty of us who would be willing to be alone and quiet
and awake and without a book for ten minutes. We are afraid
to be alone. We are afraid to think. What is there to think
about? we ask. The Indian would regard this as a preposter
ous question. What is there to think about? — God and the
Soul — the old questions of Whence? and Whither? — and
most of all the question, What for? Are not these enough
to occupy a few minutes of every day? The sannyasi finds
them too much for a lifetime. Our American attitude, in con
trast with the sannyasi's, is one of headless "hustle." It is
well expressed in that very American song, —
" I don't know where I 'm goin',
But I 'm on my way."
Rabindranath Tagore said to me, "You Americans have no
leisure, or if you have, you know not how to use it. In the rush
of your lives you do not stop to consider where you are rushing
to nor what it is all for. The result is that you have lost the
vision of the Eternal."
The Indian has not lost this vision. He has lost many other
things; is without many things that are of very great value.
He is poor and diseased, famine-stricken, ignorant, a prey to
the tiger and the snake, full of sores and sufferings and super
stitions; yet some divine vision of the Invisible, some inartic
ulate intuition of the Eternal, has ever hung about him and
is still brooding over his land. Of individual Indians and in
dividual Westerners I do not write. There are many, many
Europeans and Americans who have not lost the vision of the
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INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
Eternal, and many Indians who have. I speak only of ideals in
the large. But certain it is that purely material aims play a
much more important r61e in the West than in the East. In
India they really take the soul seriously; with us one is almost
ashamed to mention it outside of church.
This contrast of mental attitude is partly reflected in, and
partly caused by, the philosophy and science of the two peo
ples. The intellectual prestige of our age in the West lies with
physics and chemistry. It is they that have won the great
triumphs, wrought the modern miracles, and brought to man
the gifts whose cash value none can dispute. Hence biology
and physiology have sought to follow in their wake and to
adopt and adapt their formulae. Hence also psychology, the
youngest of the family, is trying to shine in their reflected
light and to keep some sort of company with the great by tak
ing its point of view from biology, and forcing all its facts into
physiological formulae which are to be ultimately interpreted
in terms of chemistry and physics. In such a science there is,
of course, no room for the soul or self, no place for freedom or
the life of the spirit. The brain and the nervous system, the
white and gray matter with their marvelous molecules, obeying
always and only the laws of motion, — these have taken the
place of the soul and of God. 1 Our philosophy, on its part, is
hopelessly divided against itself — so divided, in fact, that we
cannot be said to have a philosophy. Some of it is busy justi
fying and applauding the tyranny of "Naturalism" and the
triumphant progress of what might be called Pan-mechanism.
Much of it is wandering and lost in the mazes of the "Theory
of Knowledge," remote from all possible abodes of men. Some
of it is calling out in brave protest against the tendencies of
the times, and reasserting the old truth that the life for man
is the life of the spirit.
The philosophical systems of India also are varied; yet all
those native to it have certain great conceptions in common.
If these common conceptions should be formulated in an In
dian creed it would read in part somewhat as follows: " I be
lieve in the Soul. I believe in its endless progress as it takes its
way through changing forms, in worlds that rise and pass. I
believe that the material world, with all it has of luxury and
474

WHAT THE WEST MIGHT LEARN
wealth, and with it the human body itself, are but means in the
education and refinement of the soul, and that whenever they
stand in the way of the soul's progress they must be renounced
and despised." And to this, the overwhelming majority of In
dian thinkers would add: "I believe that the human soul may
enter into, or is already and forever in, immediate communion
with the Divine."
I do not think we can accept any of the philosophies of India
in toto as the solution of our intellectual problems. I am sure
we cannot accept any of its religions as such. And yet I think
there is something for us in Eastern thought and Eastern
life, and something of the highest value. One of the leading
philosophers of India writes me as follows: "I am not very
hopeful about the future of 'Hinduism' as such. But I do pray
fervently that its inmost spirit, its Atma-vidya, its science of
the Soul, may not be lost altogether, and that its Theory
of Life may pass to new races and younger and more vigorous
peoples." Doubtless the East has more to learn from us than we from
the East. And certainly the best that it has to give we might
have gained from our own Great Teacher if we only would.
But the fact remains that we have not learned our lesson. And
it may be that the spiritual teachings of Jesus would come
home to us with greater power and a fresh sense of reality if we
should consent to study the living example of a people of our
own day who, in spite of laboratories, microscopes, and the
survival of the fittest, have never for a moment suspected that
the laws of matter could explain — or explain away — the
self; and who, despite coal-mines, corporations, stocks, bonds,
and oil wells, have never lost their calm faith that the spiritual
life alone is of supreme value, and that in comparison with it
wealth, fame, power, and pleasure are as the small dust of the
balance. For the Indian knows that all these pass away, while
for each of us the only eternally abiding thing is his own soul.
"What is the light of man? " was a question asked of the sage
Yajnavalkya by a certain king some eight hundred years or
more before Christ.
And, as one of the ancient Upanishads 1 tells us, the sage at
1 Brihadaranyaka Upanishad, IV, 3.
475

INDIA AND ITS FAITHS
first gave the obvious reply: "The sun, O King; for having the
sun alone for his light man sits, moves about, does his work,
and returns."
But this did not satisfy the King, and he asked: "When the
sun is set, O Yajnavalkya, what is the light of man?"
And again the obvious answer was made: "When the sun is
set, then the moon is the light of man; for having the moon
alone for his light man sits, moves about, does his work, and
returns." "But when the sun is set, and the moon is set, what is the
light of man?"
And once more Yajnavalkya answered, and this time quite
in the spirit of modern applied science: "When the sun is set,
and the moon is set, then fire is the light of man ; for having fire
alone for his light man sits, moves about, does his work, and
returns." But the recurring question came again: "When the sun is
set, and the moon is set, and the fire is gone out, what is the
light of man?"
To this there is but one reply; and Yajnavalkya gave it
last : —
"When the sun is set, and the moon is set, and the fire is
gone out, the soul is the light of man."

THE END

INDEX

INDEX

Ahimsa, 155, 264, 265, 348, 395, 415,
466-68.
Ahmedabad, 265.
Ahura Mazda, 319-22, 461.
Akaranka Sutra, 269, 289.
Al Ashari, 292, 294.
Alexandra, Mme. David, 415.
Allah, m, 292-95, 461.
Allahabad, 35, 37-42, 219, 264.
Amir Ali, 309.
Amritsar, 246, 248, 249, 251.
Andrews, Rev. C. F., 201.
Angad, 243, 245, 246.
Anguttara Nikaya, 388, 398.
Arjan, 246.
Arjuna, 60, 107, no.
Arjundas, 99.
Arnold, Prof. T. W., 307.
Aryan Brotherhood of Bombay, 170-
71-
Arya Samaj, 172, 174, 183, 186, 199-
212, 248.
Asceticism, 41, 147, 150, 160, 238,
244, 266, 268, 269, 303, 312, 470,
471.
Avalon, Arthur, 61.
Bahadoor, Rai Saligram, 214, 217,
218.
Banerjea, 174.
Barnett, L. D., 31, 54, 82, 87, 90.
Basanta Koomer Roy, 186.
Bawa Chhajju Singh, 202.
Benares, 17, 19, 21, 25, 35, 36, 42-44,
94, 95, 146, 155, 161, 219, 239, 243,
250, 264, 272.
Bengal, 19, 60, 65, 161, 247.
Besant, Mrs. Annie, 5, 225, 226, 228-
33. 261.
Bhagavad Gita, 53, 54, 60, 70, 84-86,
97, 99, 101, 107, 115, 123, 124, 141,
~ x53-
Bhagavad Purana, 54.
Bhagavan Das, 131, 185.
Bhakti, 25, 84, 100, 101, 109, 235,
245-
Bhandarkar, R. G., 48, 50, 53, 57.
Bharata Dharma Mahamandala,
• 187.

Bijoy Krishna Goswami, 148.
Bipin Chandra Pal, n, 60-63, 96,
118, 148.
Blavatsky, H. P., 224, 226, 230.
Bombay, 3, 170, 171, 173, 201, 318,
330, 335-
Bose, Dr. J. C, 8.
Brahma, 36, 50, 67, 244, 355, 357.
Brahmachari, 135.
Brahman, 61, 74-77, 79-85, 100, 103,
no, in, 461.
Brahmo Samaj, 90, 170, 171, 174,
180, 190-99, 210.
Brindaban, 35.
Buddha, 228, 256, 340, 342, 345-48,
357, 365- 368, 369, 373. 374. 378,
380-82, 385, 387, 389, 390, 392-95.
397-400, 406, 408, 409, 411-16,
452, 457, 461.
Buhler, Prof. J. G., 288.
Burma, 247, 344, 349, 355, 357, 358,
360, 364, 365, 367, 368, 433.
Butler, Sir Harcourt, 185.
Calcutta, 19, 62, 145.
Carus, Paul, 362, 380.
Caste system, 120-27, 169-73, 183,
188, 205, 221, 237, 241, 245, 248,
284, 307.
Central Hindu College, 184, 185,
227, 233.
Ceylon, 355, 357, 358, 361, 365, 367,
368, 376, 433.
Child marriage, 174, 188, 194, 205.
Christianity, 166, 174, 177, 189, 191,
194, 196, 296, 299, 312, 316, 317,
368, 376, 378, 402, 403, 410, 4".
420, 424-26, 431-44. 449-53. 455.
459, 461, 462.
Clough, John E., 65, 143, 430, 444-
Conjeeveram, 22, 30.
Copleston, R. S., 357.
Crooke, W., 312.
Dahlke, Paul, 382, 386, 401 , 414, 415.
Daly, Bowles, 358.
Dancing girls, 20, 69, 146.
Dayanand, 154, 200-07, 209-12.
Dayanand Anglo-Vedic College, 206.

479

INDEX

Delhi, 15, 302.
Depressed Classes Mission Society,
171-72.
Deussen, Prof. Paul, 73, 80.
Devaki, 54.
Deva Samaj, 172.
Devi. See Kali.
Dhammapada, 389-92, 393, 407,
413. 414-
Dharmapala, H., 368, 369, 378.
Digambara, 255, 260, 272, 274, 282,
286.
Dubois, Abbe, 6, 93, 122, 124, 136,
137, 142, 146.
Durga. See Kali.
Durga Puja, 19.
Education, Arya, 206, 207; Brahmo,
199; Buddhist, 348, 351-53, 358,
360-65; Hindu, 140-44, 183-86;
Jaina, 185, 279,283,285, 287; Mo
hammedan, 305-07, 310; Parsee,
328-30; Sikh, 185, 253; Theoso
phist, 227.
Eroticism, 55, 58, 59, 63, 69.
Ethics, Buddhist, 348, 349, 357, 358,
364. 365. 392-95. 411-16; Hindu,
92-103; Jaina, 263-67, 269, 270,
277, 278, 289; Mohammedan, 304,
305. 313. 3H. 317; Parsee, 323-27;
Radhasoami, 221-23.
Family, Hindu, 119, 127-32.
Farquhar, 18, 25, 29, 30, 31, 63, 69,
122, 126, 173, 177, 187, 213, 230,
233, 253, 306, 331, 338, 426, 456.
Fatalism. See Freedom.
Fausboll, V., 391.
Field, Dorothy, 246.
"Four Noble Truths," 362, 365, 384-
88, 394, 395, 399, 402, 406, 412-16.
Fraser, Sir Andrew, 445.
Freedom of the Will, 99, 100, 293,
294.
Froelich, 102.
Gaekwar of Baroda, 173.
Ganesh, 15, 17, 18, 23, 24, 26-28, 67,
229.
Ganges, 35-44, 94, 136, 138.
Garbe, R., 53.
Garuda Purana, 36, 92-94.
Gautama. See Buddha.
Gayatri, 67, 81, 134, 137, 141.
Gobind Singh, 246, 247, 250, 251.
Gokhale, G. K., 167.
Gokul Chand, 207.
Goldziher, I., 312.

Govinda Das, 109, 117, 144, 159, 161.
Granth, 237, 246, 247, 249, 252.
Grierson, G. A.f 52, 89.
Grihastha, 135, 136.
Growse, 52.
Guerinot, A., 255.
Guru, 142-44, 216, 217, 241, 243,
246, 247.
Gurukula College, 206, 207.
Hackmann, H., 358.
Hall, Fielding, 4, 344, 354, 373, 381,
404.
Hanuman, 18, 24, 27, 51.
Hardwar, 17, 18, 35-37.
Hare, W. L., 407.
Headley, Lord, 316.
Heaven, 109, 252, 260, 297-99, 323,
109, 371, 394, 409, 4H-
Hell, 92, 113, 259, 260, 297-99, 357.
371. 394- 409. 4H-
Hem Chandra Sarkar, 142.
Hewavitarna, Dr. C. A., 378.
Hindu Marriage Reform League,
175- .
Hindu University of Benares, 185.
Hodgson, Richard, 230.
Holy days, 37, 38, 278, 302-04, 355,
359.
Holy men (Hindu), 39-41, 43, 146-61.
Home, Hindu, 26, 27, 130-33, 181.
Hopkins, Prof. E. W., 288.
Horwill, H. W., 439.
Howells, G. H., 29, 31, 85, 121, 236,
456-
Idolatry. See Images.
Idols. See Images.
Images, 15, 16, 22, 24-33, 182, 188,
196, 211, 229, 230, 272, 277, 342,
343. 352, 355. 419. 453-
Immortality, Arya belief in, 203;
Brahmo belief in, 195, 196; Bud
dhist belief in, 371, 372, 376-79;
Hindu belief in, 104-15 (see also
Karma, Transmigration) ; Jaina
belief in, 259-61 ; Kabir's belief in,
238; Mohammedan belief in, 297,
298; Parsee belief in, 322, 323, 339;
Sikh belief in, 244, 252.
Incarnation, 51-57, 196, 213, 214,
225, 244.
"Indian Social Reformer," 169.
Individuality of man, 75, 99, no,
379. 380.
Indus, 36.
Islam. See Mohammedanism.
Iyer, Sir S., 188.

480

INDEX

Jackson, A. V. W., 319.
Jacobi, H. G., 263.
"Jaina Gazette," 280, 284, 285.
Jaina vows, 263, 264, 267-69.
Japji, 249, 250, 252.
Jesus, 197, 199, 228, 297, 434, 450-
53. 457, 458, 460-62, 475.
Jnan Chandra Banerji, 425, 426,
428, 437, 438, 446, 447-
Johnson, Rev. J. J., 156.
Jones, Dr. J. P., 69.
Judge, W. R., 232.
Jumna, 15, 35, 36.
Kabir, 88, 217, 236-46, 253.
Kabir Panthis, the, 235-42.
Kali, 13, 14, 19, 20, 46, 60-66, 68.
Kalpa Sutra, 263.
Kandy, 417.
Karma, 62, 108-15, 122, 123, 203,
226, 244, 256-59, 265, 266, 365,
371-73, 388, 400-02, 408-10, 415.
Kartikkeya. See Subrahmanya.
Karve, 174.
Keshub Chunder Sen, 102, 171, 180,
181, 192-95.
Khonds, 20.
Koot Hoomi, 226, 230, 232.
Koran, 236, 237, 292, 296-301, 305,
310, 315, 451-
Krishna, 20, 21, 50, 51, 53-60, 86,
97, 107, no, 227, 228, 458.
Lajpat Rai, 201, 205, 206, 211.
Lakshmi, 15, 50, 60.
Lala Hansraj, 212.
Lang, Samuel, 321.
Leadbeater, C. W., 231, 233.
Lingam, 17, 18, 20, 21, 24, 26, 35.
Macauliffe.M. A., 88,89,243,246,249.
Macdonald, Prof. D. B., 293, 294.
Macnicol, Dr. N., 239.
Madhava Prasad, 214, 223.
Madura, 22, 23, 70, 145.
Mahabalipuram, 48.
Mahaban, 35, 56.
Mahabharata, n, 98, 140.
Maha-Bhodi Society, 362, 363, 367,
368, 421.
Mahadev. See Shiva.
Mahanirvana Tantra, 61, 94, 154.
Mahatman, 151-54.
Mahavira, 254-56, 258, 260-63, 289.
Maitreya Buddha, 365, 378.
Mandalay, 251, 345, 349~52.
Mantra, 134, 135, 138, 228, 229.
Manu, 124, 131, 148. 201.

Marriage, Hindu, 128-31, 174-76,
194-
Martin, Rev. E., 19.
Mass conversion, 435, 436.
Matale, 358, 417-19.
Maung Tha Kin, 383.
Maya, 61, 82, 83, 241.
Meditation, 153, 154, 218, 266, 268,
353. 354-
Mills, E. J., 373.
Mirza Ghulam Ahmad, 311.
Misra, Brahm Sankar, 214-17, 220-
22.
Missionary, Christian, 166, 167, 174,
191, 211, 212, 309, 367, 425-31,
435, 436, 439-41. 446, 447. 453.
456, 457. 459. 460.
Missionary point of view, 5, 6.
Modi, Jivanji Jamshedji, 321, 322,
325. 326, 334.
Mohammed, 199, 296, 298, 300, 311-
I4,3i7,45i,46i.
Mohammed Ah, 298, 299, 316, 317.
Moksha, no, 257, 260H53.
Monasteries, Buddhist, 351, 352,
355. 357: Hindu, 42, 155-58.
Monastic orders, Hindu, 154, 155.
Monk, Buddhist, 347, 348, 351-55,
358, 359, 364, 365, 367-69, 371,
386, 395, 408, 415, 428, 454; Hin
du (see Sannyasi) ; Jaina, 264, 268-
70, 428, 454; Kabir Panthi, 240.
Miiller, Max, 65, 73, 178, 393.
Munson, Miss, 132.
Murdoch, J., 19, 67.
Mysticism, 88-90, 96, 100, 103, 104,
178, 196, 235, 238, 243, 295, 410.
Nabhaji, 237.
Nanak, 88, 242-46, 248-51, 253.
Nandi, 17, 18, 155.
Nandi the Cowherd, 54, 56.
Narayana, 50.
Nats, 346-48, 355, 381.
Nepal, 19, 26, 41.
Nerbuddha, 26, 36.
Nirvana, 362, 374, 376, 377-80; 386,
387, 405, 409, 411, 419, 420.
Nivedita, I, 4, 5. 6, 14. 47"49, 57,
64-66, 127, 129, 131, 150, 182, 472.
Noble, Margaret E. See Nivedita.
Nyana Tiloka, 386.
Offerings, 16, 18-27, 275, 383.
Olcott, H. S., 224, 232, 355, 362, 363,
380, 399, 4°i-
Oman, J. G., 248, 249, 252.
Outcastes, 121, 125, 126, 143.

481

INDEX

Paramahamsa. See Mahatman.
Parvati, 15, 17, 18, 23.
Pattanattu Pillai, 31.
Pitakas, 394, 399, 400, 402, 412.
Pitriloka, 108, 138.
Polytheism (Hindu), 70, 71, 73, 182,
196, 203, 211.
Prabuddha Bharata, 183.
Prarthna Samaj, 171, 174, 192.
Pratap Chandra Mazoomdar, 61,
459-
Prayer, 16, 18, 25, 28, 31, 136-38,
141, 209, 240, 249, 252, 271, 272,
301-03, 315, 330, 331, 334-36,341-
43, 345, 346, 380-84
Pretaloka, 108, 138.
Priest, Brahmin, 16-19, 21-23, 27,
29, 56, 140, 144-46, 455.
Priests, Jaina, 274; Parsee, 329, 330,
455; Sikh, 249, 455.
Puja. See Worship.
Punjab, 53, 201, 206, 212, 242, 247,
251-
Puri, 22, 35.
Radha, 56, 58.
Radhasoami Faith, 213-23.
Rama, 35, 44, 51-53. 141. 236, 238,
240, 458.
Ramakrishna, 61, 62, 66, 97, 100,
102, 103, 149, 151-53. i77-8r.
Ramakrishna Mission, 181, 182, 186.
Ramakrishna Order, 180-84, !95> 196.
Ramanand, 88, 235.
Ramanuja, 30, 78, 84, 88, 91, 100-02,
146, 154, 155, 235, 450, 458.
Ramayana, 52.
Rameswaram, 22, 35.
Ram Mohun Roy, 190, 200.
Rangoon, 343, 344, 351.
Ravana, 51.
Reed, Elizabeth A., 162.
Reform movement, Buddhist, 366-
69; Hindu, 166-212; Jaina, 284-
87; Mohammedan, 306-10; Parsee,
338; Sikh, 251.
Rhys-Davids, Mrs. C. A., 392, 400.
Rhys-Davids, T. W., 371, 389.
Rig Veda, 46, 67, 73, 84, 122.
Rudra, 46.

Sacred trees, 24, 340, 356, 364.
Sadhu, 146.
Saint Nihal Singh, 126, 171.
Salagrama stones, 26, 132.
Salvation, means of, 96, 97, 100, 101 ,
204, 217-19, 244, 245, 263-66, 299,
300, 322, 388-90, 403.

Samadhi, 151, 153.
Sannyasi, 97, 135, 136, 146-61, 164,
428, 473-
Sarasvati, 60.
Sastry, V. S. S., 167.
Saunders, K., 347, 348, 358, 379, 381,
437, 440.
Scott, J. G., 346, 347.
Self, Buddhist conception of, 371-
73, 4°5! Hindu conception of, 73,
75-77, 91, 92, 99, 107, no, 112-
15. 163-65. 228, 229; Jaina con
ception of, 258.
Servants of India, 167-69.
Severac, J., 63.
Shaivites, 49, 70, 84-87, 89.
Shakti, 26, 60, 61-66.
Shankara, 78-84, 99, in, 146, 154,
155. 235. 450.
Shiahs, 303, 304, 310.
Shiva, 15-23, 25, 26, 28, 35, 43, 46-
49, 60-71, 81, 84-87, 89, 155, 244,
355-
Shiva Dayal Singh, 213.
Shivanath Shastri, 90, 153, 191, 193,
196-98, 430.
Shraddha, 128, 138, 211, 229.
Sikhs, the, 170, 217, 242-53.
Sita, 51, 141.
Snehalata, 66, 176.
Soul. See Self.
Srirangam, 22.
Steiner, Rudolf, 233.
Stevenson, Mrs. Sinclair, 257, 259,
265-68, 270, 278.
Sthanakavasi, 255, 260.
Stover, Rev. W. B., 19, 121, 326,
327-
Subhadra Bhikshu, 362, 372, 379,
380, 389, 398.
Subrahmanya, 18, 23.
Sunnis, 303, 304, 310.
Surya, 67.
Sutta Nipata, 390, 391.
Svarga. See Heaven.
Svetambara, 255, 260, 266, 272, 282,
285, 286.
Symbolism, 12, 13, 14, 55, 57, 68,
138, 209, 241, 242, 274, 275, 328,
329. 333, 448, 449-

Tagore, Devendranath, 77, 78, 132,
133. 152, 153, I9I-93-
Tagore, Prince Dwarakanath, 191.
Tagore, Rabindranath, 1, 8, 73, 84,
90, 185, 186, 237-239, 429.
Tagore, Satyendranath, 90.
Tanjore, 22.
482

INDEX

Taraporewalla, Dr., 140.
Taylor, H. O., 123.
Temples, 15, 21-23, 25, 26, 35, 69,
145, 146, 240, 248, 272-74, 329,
340-44, 355, 364.
Tennant, Carrie A., 175.
Theosophical Society, 135, 172, 196,
212, 224-34, 331, 362, 367, 431-33-
Theregathas, 392.
Thiruklikundrum, 22.
Thurston, E., 20.
Tirthankaras, 261-63, 271, 272, 275.
Transmigration, 18, 107-15, 138, 203,
226, 244,252,259,371,372, 461.
Trevelyan, G. M., 275.
Trimurti, 67.
Tsakni, N., 58, 63.
Tulsi Das, 52, 89, 141, 236.
U-Khanthi, 350, 351, 371, 372.
Uma. See Kali.
United Provinces, 201, 206, 212-14.
Upanishads, 72-79, 81, 84, 104,
no, 154, 186, 201, 459.
Upasaka, 359, 418.
Vaishnavites, 49, 51, 56, 58-60, 70,
84-87, 458.
Vallabha sect, 57, 58.
Valmiki, 51, 52.
Vanaprastha, 135, 136.
Vasudeva, 50, 53, 54.
Veda, 23, 118, 119, 191. 192, 201-03,
219, 228, 236.
Vedanta, 78-85, 91,99-101, no, in,
180-82, 195, 196, 211, 212, 226,
450, 452, 458.

Vedanta Sara, 142.
Vedanta Sutras, 78, 84.
Vendidad, 332.
Virjanand, 200, 201.
Vishnu, 15, 18, 21, 26, 27, 30, 36, 49-
61, 67, 69-71, 81, 84-87, 155, 244,
, 355.357,457-
Vishnu Purana, 54, 55, 86, 87.
Vivekananda, 4, 49, 64, 65, 150, 153,
178-84.
Warren, H. C, 375.
West, E. W., 332.
Westcott, G., 236-42.
Widow, Hindu, 25, 131, 173, 206.
Wilkins, W. J., 130, 131, 144.
Williams, Monier, 17, 18, 46, 63, 99,
247, 251.
Wilson, H. H., 54, 207, 236.
Woodward, F. L., 371, 412.
Worship, Arya, 207-10; Brahmo,
199; Buddhist, 341, 342, 344-46,
355; Hindu, 11, 12, 15-33, 81, 136-
39; Jaina, 270-72, 275-77, 278;
Kabir Panthi, 240-42; Moham
medan, 291, 300, 312; Parsee, 318,
319. 330. 333. 334; Radhasoami,
219-21; Sikh, 249, 250, 252.
Wright, Dudley, 406.
Yantras, 26.
Yasoda, 54, 56.
Yoga, 143, 150.
Yoganindra, 54.
Yom Noguchi, 438.
Zarathustra, 319-21, 323. 324, 461.

(Che ffiroenribe ^xtii
CAMBRIDGE . MASSACHUSETTS
V • S • A