Sleep well while you may.'

And then, after a pause, it called the governor's son's name, and
'Traitor, traitor!' till the hills were full of sound.

The Burman turned away.

'You see,' he said, 'how they hate me. What would be the good of
charms?'

The voice was quiet, and the camp sank into stillness, and ere long the
moon set, and it was quite dark.

He was a brave man, and, indeed, there are many brave men amongst the
Burmese. They kill leopards with sticks and stones very often, and even
tigers. They take their frail little canoes across the Irrawaddy in
flood in a most daring way. They in no way want for physical courage,
but they have never made a cult of bravery; it has never been a
necessity to them; it has never occurred to them that it is the prime
virtue of a man. You will hear them confess in the calmest way, 'I was
afraid.' We would not do that; we should be much more afraid to say it.
And the teaching of Buddhism is all in favour of this. Nowhere is
courage--I mean aggressive courage--praised. No soldier could be a
fervent Buddhist; no nation of Buddhists could be good soldiers; for not
only does Buddhism not inculcate bravery, but it does not inculcate
obedience. Each man is the ruler of his life, but the very essence of
good fighting is discipline, and discipline, subjection, is unknown to
Buddhism. Therefore the inherent courage of the Burmans could have no
assistance from their faith in any way, but the very contrary: it fought
against them.

There is no flexibility in Buddhism. It is a law, and nothing can change
it. Laws are for ever and for ever, and there are no exceptions to them.
The law of the Buddha is against war--war of any kind at all--and there
can be no exception. And so every Burman who fought against us knew that
he was sinning. He did it with his eyes open; he could never imagine any
exception in his favour. Never could he in his bivouac look at the
stars, and imagine that any power looked down in approbation of his
deeds. No one fought for him. Our bayonets and lances were no keys to
open to him the gates of paradise; no monks could come and close his
dying eyes with promises of rewards to come. He was sinning, and he must
suffer long and terribly for this breach of the laws of righteousness.

If such be the faith of the people, and if they believe their faith, it
is a terrible handicap to them in any fight; it delivers them bound into
the hands of the enemy. Such is Buddhism.