of thus obtaining
salvation. When pressed to say what their next birth would be, he opined
that if their penance was successful they would be reborn as dogs and
cows, if unsuccessful, in hell. Irony and modesty are combined in his
rejection of extravagant praise. "Such faith have I, Lord[392]" said
Sariputta, "that methinks there never has been nor will be nor is now
any other greater or wiser than the Blessed One." "Of course, Sariputta"
is the reply, "you have known all the Buddhas of the past." "No, Lord."
"Well then, you know those of the future." "No, Lord." "Then at least
you know me and have penetrated my mind thoroughly." "Not even that,
Lord." "Then why, Sariputta, are your words so grand and bold."

There is much that is human in these passages yet we should be making a
fancy portrait did we allow ourselves to emphasize them too much and
neglect the general tone of the Pitakas. These scriptures are the
product of a school; but that school grew up under the Buddha's personal
influence and more than that is rooted in the very influences and
tendencies which produced the Buddha himself. The passionless,
intellectual aloofness; the elemental simplicity with which the facts of
life are stated and explained without any concession to sentiment, the
rigour of the prescription for salvation, that all sensual desire and
attachment must be cut off, are too marked and consistent for us to
suppose them due merely to monkish inability to understand the more
human side of his character. The Buddha began his career as an Indian
Muni, one supposed to be free from all emotions and intent only on
seeking deliverance from every tie connecting him with the world. This
was expected of him and had he done no more it would have secured him
universal respect. The fact that he did a great deal more, that he
devoted his life to active preaching, that he offered to all happiness
and escape from sorrow, that he personally aided with advice and
encouragement all who came to him, caused both his contemporaries and
future generations to regard him as a saviour. His character and the
substance of his teaching were admirably suited to the needs of the
religious world of India in his day. Judged by the needs of other
temperaments, which are entitled to neither more nor less consideration,
they seem too severe, too philosophic and the later varieties of
Buddhism have endeavoured to make them congenial to less strenuous
natures.

Before leaving