le almost unconquerable, in directing their armies, in
strengthening their determination. We remember La Vendee, we remember
our Puritans, and we have had recent experience in the Soudan. We know
what Christianity has done again and again; what Judaism, what
Mahommedanism, what many kinds of paganism, have done.
To those coming to Burma in those days, fresh from the teachings of
Europe, remembering recent events in history, ignorant of what Buddhism
means, there was nothing more surprising than the fact that in this war
religion had no place. They rode about and saw the country full of
monasteries; they saw the monasteries full of monks, whom they called
priests; they saw that the people were intensely attached to their
religion; they had daily evidence that Buddhism was an abiding faith in
the hearts of the people. And yet, for all the assistance it was to them
in the war, the Burmese might have had no faith at all.
And the explanation is, that the teachings of the Buddha forbid war. All
killing is wrong, all war is hateful; nothing is more terrible than this
destroying of your fellow-man. There is absolutely no getting free of
this commandment. The teaching of the Buddha is that you must strive to
make your own soul perfect. This is the first of all things, and comes
before any other consideration. Be pure and kind-hearted, full of
charity and compassion, and so you may do good to others. These are the
vows the Buddhist monks make, these are the vows they keep; and so it
happened that all that great organization was useless to the patriot
fighter, was worse than useless, for it was against him. The whole
spectacle of Burma in those days, with the country seething with strife,
and the monks going about their business calmly as ever, begging their
bread from door to door, preaching of peace, not war, of kindness, not
hatred, of pity, not revenge, was to most foreigners quite inexplicable.
They could not understand it. I remember a friend of mine with whom I
went through many experiences speaking of it with scorn. He was a
cavalry officer, 'the model of a light cavalry officer'; he had with him
a squadron of his regiment, and we were trying to subdue a very troubled
part of the country.
We were camping in a monastery, as we frequently did--a monastery on a
hill near a high golden pagoda. The country all round was under the sway
of a brigand leader, and sorely the villagers suffered at his hands now
that he had leapt
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