(n) Li-hu-hwui-pu-sah-sho-man-li-fo-fa-king (Questions asked by a Bodhisatwa, called Li-hu-hwui, as to the right way of paying worship to Buddha).

This Sutra was delivered at Srâvasti, in the Jetavana. The interlocutor is the Bodhisatwa named in the title. He asks Buddha to explain the right method of worship. On this Buddha tells him that he should, with all his heart, pay 'adoration to all the Buddhas of the ten quarters, and afterwards prostrate himself on his knees, hands, and head to Buddha himself, beseeching him to bring about the Salvation of all men, and cause an end to be put to all heretical teaching. He then proceeds to direct him to worship each of the Buddhas of the different Regions of space, beginning with Akshobya of the Eastern Region, down to Vairojana, who is placed in the Nadir.

(0) Fo-shwo-ta-shing-pih-fuh-siang-king (Buddha declares what are the hundred marks of merit belonging to the Great Vehicle).

This Sutra was delivered at Srâvasti, in a Palace called PoMiu. The interlocutor is Manjusri. In it is given the names of the eighty inferior signs and the thirty-two greater signs on Buddha's person, also eighty symbols or figures found on the soles of his feet.

(p) Man-chu-sse-li-man-po-ti-king (Manjusrî inquires as to the character of Bodhi).

This Sutra was delivered in Magadha, on Mount Gayâ, in the presence of all the Bhikshus, and those Brahmans who had been converted by Buddha; the subject of it is the nature of that condition of mind called the "Heart of Bôdhi" (Esprit de Bodhi).

(q) Wou-tsun-hwui-pou-sah-king (The Sûtra of Akchayamati Bodhisatwa).

This Sutra was delivered at Rajagriha, on Mount Gridrakuta, in the presence of 1,250 Bhikshus. The interlocutor is Akchayamati, who inquires of Buddha the nature of the heart of Bodhi (as in the previous Sutra).

(r) Ta-shing-sze-fa-king (The Sûtra of the four rules of the Great Vehicle).

This is the same as the Mâhâyana-chatur-dharmaka Sûtra. It was delivered at Srâvasti, in the garden of Jeta (and has already been referred to).

(s) Fo-shwo-ta-shing-sze-fa-king (Buddha declares the four
laws of the Great Vehicle).

This Sutra has already been referred to.
(t) Fo-shwo-pou-sa-sheou-hing-sze-fa-king.
lation of the above.

Another trans

(u) Fo-shwo-tsing-nieh-chang-king (Buddha narrates the obstacles in the way of a pure Karma).

This Sutra was delivered when Buddha was dwelling at Vaisali, in the garden of the Amra trees, in the presence of 500 Bhikshus and 32,000 Bodhisatwas Mahâsatwas. It relates to a conversation between a courtesan and a Bodhisatwa called Vimalanirbhâsa (wou-hu-kwong). The former, having used her magic arts, prevails over the Bodhisatwa. After this, being seized with intense remorse, he comes to Buddha; the latter comforts him by an assurance that all such things are as a shadow and a dream, on which the Bodhisatwa is re-assured. Manjusrî then enters into a discussion with Buddha relating to the character of the Great Vehicle.

(v) Tching-u-ta-shing-kung-tih-king (Buddha praises the superior excellency of the Great Vehicle).

In this Sutra Buddha describes the superiority of the Heart of Bodhi, and from that proceeds to define the infinite virtue of the Great Vehicle. (This Sûtra was translated from Sanscrit by Hiouen-Tsang.)

(w) Ta-shing-fang-kwang-tsung-chi-king (The Sûtra which describes the nature of the Dhâranî, used in the Yoga system of the Great Vehicle).

This Sûtra was delivered at Râjagriha, on the Gridrakûta Mountain, in the presence of 62,000 Great Bhikshus. It contains certain Dhâranî.

(x) Wou-shang-i-king (The Sûtra of the highest reliance). This Sutra, which is in two parts, contains an account of the relative merit of various actions. It was delivered in the Kalanda-venu-vana, before 1,250 Bhikshus and various Bodhi

satwas.

(y) Fo-shwo-lo-niu-yin-king (The Sûtra in which Buddha describes the conduct of an aged woman).

This Sutra was delivered by Buddha at a place called LoYin (musical sound), before 800 Bhikshus and 10,000 Bodhisatwas. He describes the conduct of an aged woman who desired to offer him a religious gift. Having only two small coins (mites), she purchased with them a little oil: taking this to a sacred place, she used it in a lamp, to burn for his honour. The lights of all the Brahmans were extinguished, and hers alone burnt incessantly.

(z) Fo-shwo-chen-tseu-King (Buddha relates the History of Sâma)..

This is the Sâma Jâtaka referred to before.

(aa) Tin-wong-tai-tseu-Pi-Lo-King (The Sûtra of Pi-Lo, the eldest son of a Heavenly King (Devarâja). This Sûtra gives an account of Devarâja-kumâra-Pi-Lo's visit to Buddha, during which he recites the History of the Great Brahman, which is identical with the Avadâna translated by Stas. Julien, called Le roi et le grand tambour" (Les Avadanas, Vol. I. No. 1). (The Sutra of

(bb)

Fo-shwo-O-che-shai-wong-shau-ki-king
Ajâtasatru's assurance).

This Sutra was delivered at Râjagriha, on the top of the Mountain Gridrakûta, and contains an account of Ajâtasatru's visit to Buddha, and the assurance that he would hereafter become a Chakravartti Râja.

(cc) Fo-shwo-tai-tseu-Muh-pih-king (Buddha declares the History of Prince Muh-pih).

This Sutra was delivered at Srâvasti, in the Jetavana. Buddha recounts the History of the Prince Muh-pih, the son of Varanirâja. He was a beautiful child, but unable to speak; having consulted the astrologers, they resolved to put him to death, by burying him alive; when on the point of being thus sacrificed, he opened his mouth, and spake: he declared that, owing to rash words, in a former birth, he had suffered punishment in hell. He had resolved, therefore, to remain silent, rather than risk a like punishment. (This Sûtra is one of the earliest translated into Chinese, A.D. 100.)

(dd) Fo-shwo-ng-wong-king (Buddha declares the history of the five kings).

There were once five kings, one of whom was wise, the other four were foolish. The wise king, wishing to convert the others, asked them their several ideas of happiness. The first said, "Nothing would delight me more than during the spring-time to wander through gardens and parks, to see the flowers and watch the fountains. This would be pleasure."

The second said, "Nothing would delight me more than as a king to mount my royal horses, to dwell in a lordly court, and ever to be surrounded by my faithful subjects paying me

reverence.

The third said, "Nothing would delight me more than the joys of wedded life, surrounded by my children, beautiful and full of grace, ever desiring to give me happiness."

The fourth said, "Nothing would delight me more than to dwell ever with my parents, in company with my brothers and sisters, with the daintiest food, clothed in the costliest raiment, and enjoying the indulgences of sense.' ." The four having thus spoken, the Wise King replied, "All these things are vain and perishable; for my part, I would desire nothing so much as a condition that admits of neither birth nor death, joy nor sorrow, or any other extreme." On which the others replied, "And where shall we find a Teacher who will explain how this condition may be reached?" Whereupon the Wise King conducted them to the presence of Buddha, at the Jetavana Vihara. Buddha then enters on a discourse, in which he describes the eight kinds of sorrow which are incident to all conditions of life. In the end the four kings are converted.

(ee) Fo-shwo-kin-che-ng-fuh-ti-king (Buddha declares the five conditions of happiness belonging to the virtuous man).

This Sutra was also delivered at Srâvasti, in the Jetavana Vihâra. Buddha declares that the virtuous man is in this life rewarded in five ways,-first, with long life; second, with great wealth; third, with graceful form; fourth, with honour and renown; fifth, with much wisdom. He then proceeds to explain the character of the truly virtuous man.

(f) Fo-shwo-U-lan-pwan-king (Buddha declares the Avalambana Sutra).

This Sûtra was delivered at Srâvasti, in the Jetavana Vihara. Maha Mugalan, by the exercise of his spiritual power, beholds his mother suffering as a Preta from starvation; on proceeding to her side and offering her food, she was unable to receive it, as it was changed into burning ashes in her hand. On this he went, with many tears, to Buddha, and declared his great sorrow. Whereupon Buddha ordains a service to be held on the 15th day of the seventh month, for the purpose of providing food for all those suffering torments of hunger as Pretas. Mugalan, with great joy, performs this service, and so provides his mother with food.

(gg) To-fong-kwang-fuh-hwa-yen-king-sieou-sse-fun (The charity section of the Mahâvâipulyâvatamsaka Sûtra). This Sûtra was delivered at Râjagriha, on the Vulture-peak Mountain. It is a part of one of the most popular Sutras known in China, viz. the Fa-yen-king.

(hh) Fo-shwo-yin-un-sang-hu-king (Buddha narrates the history of Sangharakshita).

This is the Avâdana referred to before, and fully translated by Burnouf.

I shall now proceed to translate a short Sûtra called "Buddha's Dying Instruction" (Fo-wei-kian-king). The interest of this work is derived from the fact that it is generally bound up in China with the "Sûtra of Forty-two Sections," the first Buddhist work translated into Chinese. It will be seen that it is of a primitive type, and deals entirely with moral questions. It also speaks of the Pratimoksha," not as that work is known to us, but as certain Rules of a simple prohibitive character, affecting the life of the disciple. It would appear from this that the bulky work now known as the Pratimoksha is a later compilation, drawn up in fact after the introduction of conventual life among the followers of Buddha. 5. "The Sûtra of Buddha's Dying Instruction," translated by Royal Command, by Kumârajîva, a Doctor of the Three Pitakas, in the reign of Yaou (Hing), Prince of T'sin [397 to 415 A.D.] [T'sin, a feudal state, occupying the Region of the Rivers Wei and King] [vid. for the date Jul. p. 322].

Sâkyamuni Buddha, when he first began to preach, converted Adjñâta Kâundinya (O-jo-kiao-tchin-ju); so, on the occasion of his last discourse, he converted Subhâdra. Having thus done all that was appointed him to do, he reclined between two Sâla Trees, about to enter Nirvâna. It was now in the middle of the night, perfectly quiet and still; on this occasion, for the sake of his disciples, he delivered a brief Summary of his Law.

"Bhikshus! after my death, regard, I pray you, with much reverence, the Book of the Pratimoksha, as a light shining in the darkness; or, a precious pearl found by a poor man. Let this Book be

your Teacher and Guide, even as I should be, if I remained in the world. Keep the pure Rules of discipline, viz. these-Not to enter on any business engagements, whether buying or selling, or exchanging; to avoid all purchase of land or houses; all rearing of cattle, or dealing in servants or slaves, or any living thing; to put away all money, property, or jewels--as a man would avoid a burning pit. Not to cut down or destroy trees or shrubs; not to cultivate land, or dig the earth; not to engage in the decoction of medicines; not to practise divination, or casting lucky or unlucky days; not to study the stars or the movements of constellations; not to predict times of plenty or scarcity; not to enter on calculations of any sort all these things are forbidden. Keep the body temperate in all things, and the vital functions in quiet subjection. Have nothing to do with worldly engagements, either in seeking places of authority, or pronouncing incantations, or courting the rich, or planning for the welfare of your worldly relatives. But, by self-control and right modes of thought, aim at emancipation; conceal none of your faults, but confess them before the congregation; be moderate and contented with the food, clothing, medicines, and bedding allowed you [Jul. i. 152], and be cautious against hoarding up that which is allowed. These are the Rules of Discipline, the observance of which is the true source of emancipation, and hence they are called "The Rules of the Pratimoksha." Keep then these precepts in their purity, oh Bhikshus! Let there be no careless negligence in this matter; the man who carefully observes them shall have power to fulfil all the duties of Religion; the man who disregards them shall experience none of the rewards which a virtuous life is able to afford. And for this reason it is I bid you remember that the knowledge and practice of these Rules is the first and chief necessity for attaining religious merit and final peace. "If, Bhikshus! ye have attended to this point, and have observed the precepts religiously, then continue to keep the five organs of sense in due check, not permitting them a loose rein, or to engage in the pursuit of pleasure (the five pleasures); just as a shepherd with his crook prevents the cattle from straying into the neighbouring pastures. But if you restrain not your senses, but permit them the indulgence of the five pleasures, and put no check upon them, then, like a vicious horse unchecked by the bridle hurries on and throws its rider into the ditch, so shall it be with you; your senses getting the mastery of you, shall eventually hurry you on to the place of torment, where you shall endure untold misery for the period of an age (sæculum), without any mode of escape or deliverance. The wise man, therefore, restrains his senses, and permits them not free indulgence-he keeps them fast bound, as robbers are held in bonds, and doing so he soon feels their power to hurt utterly destroyed. The heart (sin) is Lord of these senses; govern, therefore, your heart well; watch well the heart, for it is like a noxious snake, a wild beast, a cruel robber, a great fire, and worse even than these. It may be compared to a man who is holding in his hand a vessel full of honey, and as he goes on his way his eyes are so bent in gazing on the sweet treasure in his dish, that he sees not the dreadful chasm in his way, down which he falls. It is like a mad elephant unchecked by the pointed crook-or like the ape which is allowed to escape into the tree, quickly it leaps from bough to bough, difficult to re-capture and chain up once more. Restrain, therefore, and keep in complete subjection your heart; let it not get the mastery; persevere in this, oh Bhikshus! and all shall be well.

"With respect to food and drink, whether you have received common or dainty food, let it not excite in you either undue gratification or regret; and the same with clothing and medicinal preparations-take sufficient and be satisfied; even as the butterfly sips the honey of the flower and departs, so do ye, oh Bhikshus! seek not more than is necessary: be satisfied with what is given to you, just as the wise man calculates the strength of the ox he uses, and gives it as much food as is necessary for it.

"Be careful, oh Bhikshus! to waste no time, but earnestly to persevere in acquiring a knowledge of the true Law. On the first and last nights of the month continue in the repetition of the Sacred Books without cessation. It is sloth and love of sleep that cause a whole life to be thrown away and lost.

"Think of the fire that shall consume the world, and early seek

deliverance from it, and give not way to sleep. A man who indulges in immoderate sleep can have no inward satisfaction or selfrespect; there is always a snake of dissatisfaction coiled up in his breast whereas he who denies himself this indulgence is like the man who rises early, and, sweeping out his house, expels all that is hurtful, and so has continual safety and peace. Above all things, let modesty govern every thought and every word of your daily life -a man without modesty is in no way different from the brute beast.

"Bhikshus! if a man should do you such injury as to chop your body in pieces limb by limb, yet you ought to keep your heart in perfect control; no anger or resentment should affect you, nor a word of reproach escape your lips; for if you once give way to a bitter thought, you have erred from the right way, and all religious merit is lost. Patience is a virtue (this is the literal translation of the passage Fin che wei tih'); to keep the Rules of moral restraint without wavering, to exercise patience without tiring, this is the characteristic of the great man. If a man, because he does not enjoy everything as he would wish, loses patience, he is like a man who will not enter on the Path of Salvation, because he cannot immediately quaff the sweet dew (i.e. attain immortality).' The Text then proceeds to speak of the advantage of moderation in all indulgences (pleasures), the happiness of a solitary life; "for they who live in mixed society are like the birds that congregate together in a tree, always afraid of the traps of the fowler ; or like the old elephant in the mud unable to extricate himself. Continual perseverance is like a little fire that keeps on burning, but he who tires in the practice of Religion is like a fire that goes out. Such is perseverance (vîrya).

if

"You ought, also, never to forget self-examination and reflection; you neglect these, then all progress is at an end-in the practice of these you put on, as it were, a helmet of defence, so that no sword can hurt you, and no enemy get the advantage over you (nim, i.e sraddha).

"You ought to keep your mind fixed in contemplation (dhyâna) -by perseverance, this power of fixed contemplation is always ready, even as water kept in the house is always ready for laying the dust out of doors. And so he who continues in the practice of dhyâna shall undoubtedly attain wisdom (Prajña); and this is the Deliverance spoken of in my Law. And true wisdom is this: to cross the sea of old age, disease, and death, in a strong and trustworthy boat. It is a lamp shining in darkness, a medicine for all diseases, a hatchet to cut down the tree of sorrow, and for this reason you ought to aim above all things to attain this wisdom, and so bring to yourself lasting benefit. A man who has this wisdom is perfectly illuminated, and needs no other eyes.

"Again, Bhikshus, if ye would obtain final release, you must put away from you all the foolish books (trifling discourses) met with in the world. Think only on the words I have given you, whether in the mountain pass or the depth of the valley, whether beneath the tree or in the solitary cell; think of the Scriptures (Law), and forget them not for a moment, persevere in studying them alone; I, as the good Physician, knowing the disease which affects you, give this as a medicine fit for the case: without this, you die. Or, like the guide who knows the way, I direct you where to go and what path to take without a guide, you perish.

"And now, if you have any doubts respecting the four great truths which lie at the bottom of my teaching, ask me, oh Bhikshus! and explain your doubts; for while you doubt there can be no fixity." This exhortation the world-honoured one repeated three times, but neither of the Bhikshus propounded any question, for so it was, they had no doubts.

Then Aniruddha, reading the hearts of the congregation, addressed Buddha, and said: "World-honoured! the Moon may diffuse heat and the Sun cause cold-but there can be no difference as to the truth and meaning of the four great doctrines which Buddha has placed at the bottom of his system.

"There is the great Truth of 'Sorrow' (dukha). Sorrow can never co-exist with joy, or produce it. 'Concourse' (the expression 66 concourse," generally translated "accumulation," evidently refers to the "rush or concourse of thoughts and events, experiences and anxieties, as the true cause of sorrow), this is the true cause (of sorrow), besides this there is no other. The 'destruction of sorrow,' is just the destruction of cause, 'no cause, no fruit;' and 'the way' is this very way by which the cause may be destroyed, and this is the 'true way,' and there is no other.

"World-honoured one! the Bhikshus are firmly fixed in these doctrines there is not the shadow of a doubt, there is no question or difference of opinion in the congregation respecting them. The only thought which affects the congregation is one of grief that the world-honoured one should be about to depart and enter Nirvâna, just as we have begun to enter on the practice of his Law and understand its meaning; just as in the night a flash of lightning lights up the way for the weary traveller and then is gone, and he left to wander in the dark; this is the only thought which weighs on the mind of the congregation."

Notwithstanding the assurance of Aniruddha, the world-honoured one, wishing that every member of the congregation should be strong in his belief, and attain perfect assurance, again, out of his compassion, addressed them, and said:

"Bhikshus! lament not at my departure, nor feel any regret; for if I remained in the world through the Kalpa (i.e. to the end of the world), then what would become of the Church (assembly)? it must perish without accomplishing its end! and the end is this: by personal profit to profit others.' My law is perfectly sufficient for this end. If I were to continue in the world, it would be for no good; those who were to be saved are saved, whether Gods or men; those who are not saved, shall be saved, by the seeds of truth I have sown. From henceforth, all my disciples practising their various duties, shall prove that my true Body, the Body of the Law (dharmakaya), is everlasting and imperishable.

"Be assured of this, the world is transitory; dismiss your sorrow, and seek deliverance; by the light of wisdom destroy the

What is your raison d'etre? We have had to submit to this examination even before we existed, and many a time have I been asked the question, both by friend and foe, What is the good of an International Congress of Orientalists?

I shall endeavour, as shortly as possible, to answer that question, and show that our Congress is not a mere fortuitous congeries of barren atoms or molecules, but that we are at least Leibnizian monads, each with his own self, and force, and will, and each determined, within the limits of some pre-established harmony, to help in working out some common purpose, and to achieve some real and lasting good.

It is generally thought that the chief object of a scientific Congress is social, and I am not one of those who are incapable of appreciating the delights and benefits of social intercourse with hard-working and honest-thinking men. Much as I detest what is commonly called society, I willingly give up glaciers and waterfalls, cathedrals and picture galleries, for one half hour of real society, of free, frank, fresh, and friendly intercourse, face to face, and mind to mind, with a great, and noble, and loving soul, such as was Bunsen; with a man intrepid in his thoughts, his words, and his deeds, such as was John Stuart Mill; or with a scholar who, whether he had been quarrying heavy blocks, or chiselling the most brittle filigree work, poured out all his treasures before you with the pride and pleasure of a child, such as was Eugène Burnouf. A Congress therefore, and particularly an International Congress, would certainly seem to answer some worthy purpose, were it only by bringing together fellowworkers of all countries and ages, by changing what were to us merely great names into pleasant companions, and by satisfying that very right and rational curiosity, which we all feel after having read a really good book, of seeing what the man looks like who could achieve such triumphs.

All this is perfectly true; yet, however pleasant to ourselves this social intercourse may appear, in the eyes of the world at large it will hardly be considered a sufficient excuse for our existence. In order therefore to satisfy that outer world, that we are really doing something, we point of course to the paprs which are read at our public meetings, and to the discussions which they elicit. Much as I value that feature also in a scientific congress, I confess I doubt, and I know that many share that doubt, whether the same result might not be obtained with much less trouble. A paper that contains something really new and valuable, the result, it may be, of years of toil and thought, requires to be read with care in a quiet corner of our own study, before the expression of our assent or dissent can be of any weight or value. There is too much hollow praise, and occasionally too much wrangling and ill-natured abuse at our scientific tournaments, and the world at large, which is never without a tinge of malice and a vein of quiet humour, has frequently expressed its concern at the waste of "oil and vinegar" which is occasioned by the frequent meetings of our British and Foreign Associations.

What then is the real use of a Congress, such as that which has brought us together this week from all parts of the world? What is the real excuse for our existence? Why are we here, and not in our workshops?

It seems to me that the real and permanent use of these scientific gatherings is twofold.

(1). They enable us to take stock, to compare notes, to see where we are, and to find out where we ought to be going.

(2). They give us an opportunity, from time to time, to tell the world where we are, what we have been doing for the world, and what, in return, we expect the world to do for us.

The danger of all scientific work at present, not only among Oriental scholars, but, as far as I can see, everywhere, is the tendency to extreme specialisation. Our age shows in that respect a decided reaction against the spirit of a former age, which those with grey heads among us can still remember, an age represented in Germany by such names as Humboldt, Ritter, Boeckh, Johannes Müller, Bopp, Bunsen, and others; men who look to us like giants, carrying a weight of knowledge far too heavy for the shoulders of such mortals as now be; aye, men who were giants, but whose chief strength consisted in this, that they were never entirely absorbed or bewildered by special researches, but kept their eyes steadily on the highest objects of all human knowledge; who could trace the vast outlines of the kosmos of nature or the kosmos of the mind with an unwavering hand, and to whose maps and guide books we must still recur, whenever we are in danger of losing our way in the mazes of minute research. At the present moment such works as Humboldt's Kosmos, or Bopp's Comparative Grammar, or Bunsen's Christianity and Mankind, would be impossible. No one would dare to write them, for fear of not knowing the exact depth at which the Protogenes Haeckelii has lately been discovered, or the lengthening of a vowel in the Sanhitapátha of the Rig-veda, It is quite right that this should be so, at least, for a time; but all rivers, all brooks, all rills, are meant to flow into the ocean, and all special knowledge, to keep it from stagnation, must have an outlet into the general knowledge of the world. Knowledge for its own sake, as it is sometimes called, is the most dangerous idol that a student can worship. We despise the miser who amasses money for the sake of money, but still more contemptible is the intellectual miser, who hoards up knowledge instead of spending it, though, with regard to most of our knowledge, we may be well assured and satisfied that. as we brought nothing into the world, so we may carry nothing out. Against this danger of mistaking the means for the end, of making bricks without making mortar, of working for ourselves instead of working for others, meetings such as our own, bringing together so large a number of the first Oriental scholars of Europe, seem to me a most excellent safe-guard. They draw us out of our studies, away from our common routine, away from that small orbit of thought in which each of us moves day after day, and make us realize more fully, that there are other stars

moving all around us in our little universe, that we all belong to one celestial system, or to one terrestrial com. monwealth, and that, if we want to see real progress made in that work with which we are now specially entrusted, the re-conquest of the Eastern world, we must work with one another, for one another, like members of one body, like soldiers of one army, guided by common principles, striving after common purposes, and sustained by common sympathies. Oriental literature is of such enormous dimensions that our small army of scholars can occupy certain prominent positions only; but those points, like the stations of a trigonometrical survey, ought to be carefully chosen, so as to be able to work in harmony together. I hope that in that respect our Congress may prove of special benefit. We shall hear, each of us, from others, what they wish us to do. "Why don't you finish this?" "Why don't you publish that?" are questions which we have already heard asked by many of our friends. We shall be able to avoid what happens so often, that two men collect materials for exactly the same work, and we may possibly hear of some combined effort to carry out great works, which can only be carried out viribus unitis, and of which I may at least mention one, a translation of the Sacred Books of Mankind. Important progress has already been made for setting on foot this great undertaking, an undertaking which I think the world has a right to demand from Oriental scholars, but which can only be carried out by joint action. This Congress has helped us to lay the foundation-stone, and I trust that at our next Congress we shall be able to produce some tangible results.

I now come to the second point. A Congress enables us to tell the world what we have been doing. This, it seems to me, is particularly needful with regard to Oriental studies, which, with the exception of Hebrew, stand still outside the pale of our Schools and Universities, and are cultivated by the very smallest number of students. And yet. I make bold to say, that during the last hundred, and still more during the last fifty years, Oriental studies have contributed more than any other branch of scientific research to change, to purify, to clear, and intensify the intellectual atmosphere of Europe, and to widen our horizon in all that pertains to the Science of Man, in history, philology, theology. and philosophy. We have not only conquered and annexed new worlds to the ancient empire of learning, but we have leavened the old world with ideas that are already fermenting even in the daily bread of our Schools and Universities. Most of those here present know that I am not exaggerating; but as the world is sceptical while listening to orations pro domo, I shall attempt to make good my assertions.

At first, the study of Oriental literature was a matter of curiosity only, and it is so still to a great extent, particularly in England. Sir William Jones, whose name is the only one among Oriental scholars that has obtained a real popularity in England, represents most worthily that phase of Oriental studies. Read only the two volumes of his Life, and they will certainly leave on your mind the distinct impression that Sir William Jones was not only a man of extensive learning and refined taste, but undoubtedly a very great man-one in a million. He was a good classical scholar of the old school, a well-read historian, a thoughtful lawyer, a clear-headed politician, and a true gentleman, in the old sense of the word. He moved in the best, I mean the most cultivated society, the great writers and thinkers of the day listened to him with respect, and say what you like, we still live by his we still draw on that stock of general interest which he excited in the public mind for Eastern subjects. Yet the interest which Sir William Jones took in Oriental literature was purely æsthetic. He chose what was beautiful in Persian and translated it, as he would translate an ode of Horace He was charmed with Kâlidâsa's play of Sakuntalaand who is not?-and he has left us his classical reproduction of one of the finest of Eastern gems. Being a judge in India, he thought it his duty to acquaint himself with the native lawbooks in their original language, and he gave us his masterly translation of the Laws of Manu. Sir William Jones was fully aware of the startling similarity between Sanskrit, Latin, and Greek. More than a hundred years ago, in a letter written to Prince Adam Czartoryski. in the year 1770, he says: "Many learned investigators of antiquity are fully persuaded, that a very old and almost primeval language was in use among the northern nations, from which not only the Celtic dialect, but even Greek and Latin are derived; in fact, we find waτhρ and μnτηp in Persian, nor is Ovyárηp so far removed from dockter, or even ovoμa and nomen from Persian nam, as to make it ridiculous to suppose that they sprang from the same root. must confess," he adds, "that these researches are very obscure and uncertain, and, you will allow, not so agreeable as an ode of Hafez, or an elegy of Amr'alkeis." In a letter, dated 1787, he says: "You will be surprised at the resemblance between Sanskrit and both Greek and Latin." Colebrooke also, the great successor of Sir William Jones, was fully aware of the relationship between Sanskrit, Greek, Latin, German, and even Slavonic. possess some curious MS. notes of his of the year 1801 or 1802, containing long lists of words, expressive of the most essential ideas of primitive life, and which he proved to be identical in Sanskrit, Greek, Latin, German, and Slavonic. Yet neither Colebrooke nor Sir William Jones perceived the full import of these facts. Sir William Jones died young; Colebrooke's energies, marvellous as they were were partly absorbed by official work, so that it was left to German and French scholars to bring to light the full wealth of the mine which those great English scholars had been the first to open. We know now that in language, and in all that is implied by language, India and Europe are one; but to prove this, against the incredulity of all the greatest scholars of the day, was no easy matter. It could be done effectually in one way only, viz. by giving to Oriental studies a strictly scientific character, by requiring from Oriental

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lents not only the devotion of an amateur, but the same roughness, minuteness, and critical accuracy which were g considered the exclusive property of Greek and Latin olars. I could not think of giving here a history of the work e during the last fifty years. It has been admirably described Benfey's "History of the Science of Language." Even if I empted to give merely the names of those who have been st distinguished by really original discoveries-the names of pp, Pott, Grimm, Burnouf, Rawlinson, Miklosich, Benfey, hn, Zeuss, Whitley Stokes-I am afraid my list would be isidered very incomplete.

But let us look at what has been achieved by these men, and any others who followed their banners! The East, formerly a ad of dreams, of fables, and fairies, has become to us a land of unmistakable reality; the curtain between the West and the East has been lifted, and our old forgotten home stands before us again in bright colours and definite outlines. Two worlds, separated for thousands of years, have been reunited as by a magical spell, and we feel rich in a past that may well be the pride of our noble Aryan family. We say no longer vaguely and poetically Ex Oriente Lux, but we know that all the most vital elements of our knowledge and civilisation -our languages, our alphabets, our figures, our weights and measures, our art, our religion, our traditions, our very nursery stories, came to us from the East; and we must confess that but for the rays of Eastern light, whether Aryan, or Semitic, or Hamitic, that called forth the hidden germs of the dark and dreary West, Europe, now the very light of the world, might have remained for ever a barren and forgotten promontory of the primeval Asiatic continent. We live, indeed, in a new world, the barrier between the West and East, that seemed insurmountable, has vanished. The East is ours, we are its heirs, and claim by right our share in its inheritance.

We know what it was for the Northern nations, the old barbarians of Europe, to be brought into spiritual contact with Rome and Greece, and to learn that beyond the small, poor world in which they had moved, there was an older, richer, brighter world, the ancient world of Rome and Athens, with its arts and laws, its poetry and philosophy, all of which they might call their own and make their own by claiming the heritage of the past. We know how from that time the Classical and Teutonic spirits mingled together and formed that stream of modern thought on whose shores we ourselves live and move. A new stream is now being brought into the same bed, the stream of Oriental thought, and already the colours of the old stream show very clearly the influence of that new tributary. Look at any of the important works published during the last twenty years, not only on language, but on literature, mythology, law, religion, and philosophy, and you will see on every page the working of a new spirit. I do not say that the East can ever teach us new things, but it can place before us old things, and leave us to draw from them lessons more strange and startling than anything dreamt of in our philosophy. Before all, a study of the East has taught us the same lesson which the Northern nations once learnt in Rome and Athens, that there are other worlds beside our own, that there are other religions, other mythologies, other laws, and that the history of philosophy from Thales to Hegel is not the whole history of human thought. In all these subjects the East has supplied us with parallels, and with all that is implied in parallels, viz. the possibility of comparing, measuring and understanding. The comparative spirit is the truly scientific spirit of our age, nay of all ages. An empirical acquaintance with single facts does not constitute knowledge in the true sense of the word. All human knowledge begins with the Two or the Dyad, the comprehension of two single things as one. If we may still quote Aristotle, we may boldly say that "there is no science of that which is unique." A single event may be purely accidental, it comes and goes, it is inexplicable, it does not call for an explanation. But as soon as the same fact is repeated, the work of comparison begins, and the first step is made in that wonderful process which we call generalization, and which is at the root of all intellectual knowledge and of all intellectual language. This primitive process of comparison is repeated again and again, and when we now give the title of Comparative to the highest kind of knowledge in every branch of science, we have only replaced the old word intelligent (i.e. interligent or inter-twining, by a new and more expressive term, comparative I shall say nothing about the complete revolution of the study of languages by means of the comparative method, for here I can appeal to such names as Mommsen and Curtius, to show that the best among classical scholars are themselves the most ready to acknowledge the importance of the results obtained by the intertwining of Eastern and Western studies But take mythology. As long as we had only the mythology of the classical nations to deal with, we looked upon it simply as strange, anomalous, and irrational. When, however, the same strange stories, the same hallucinations, turned up in the most ancient mythology of India, when not only the character and achievements, but the very names of some of the gods and heroes were found to be the same, then every thoughtful observer saw that there must be a system in that ancient madness, that there must be some order in that strange mob of gods and heroes, and that it must be the task of comparative mythology to find out, what reason there is in all that mass of unreason.

The same comparative method has been applied to the study of religion also. All religions are Oriental, and with the exception of the Christian, their sacred books are all written in Oriental languages. The materials therefore, for a comparative study of the religious systems of the world, had all to be supplied by Oriental scholars. But far more important than those materials is the spirit in which they have been treated. The sacred books of the principal religions of mankind had to be placed side by side with perfect impartiality, in order to discern the points which they shared in common as well as those that

are peculiar to each. The results already obtained by this simple juxta-position are full of important lessons, and the fact that the truths on which all religions agree far exceed those on which they differ, has hardly been sufficiently appreciated. I feel convinced, however, that the time will come when those who at present profess to be most disquieted by our studies, will be the most grateful for our support; for having shown by evidence which cannot be controverted, that all religions spring from the same sacred soil, the human heart; that all are quickened by the same divine spirit, the still small voice; and that, though the outward forms of religion may change, may wither and decay, yet, as long as man is what he is and what he has been, he will postulate again and again the Infinite as the very condition of the Finite, he will yearn for something which the world cannot give; he will feel his weakness and dependence, and in that weakness and dependence discover the deepest sources of his hope, and trust, and strength.

A patient study of the sacred scriptures of the world is what is wanted at present more than anything else, in order to clear our own ideas of the origin, the nature, the purposes of religion. There can be no science of one religion, but there can be a science of many. We have learnt already one lesson, that

behind the helpless expressions which language has devised, whether in the East or in the West, for uttering the unutterable, be it Dyaushpita or Ahuramazda, be it Jehovah or Allah, be it the All or the Nothing, be it the First Cause or Our Father in heaven, there is the same intention, the same striving, the same stammering, the same faith. Other lessons will follow, till in the end we shall be able to restore that ancient bond which unites not only the East with the West, but all the members of the human family, and may learn to understand what a Persian poet meant when he wrote many centuries ago (I quote from Mr. Conway's Sacred Anthology), "Diversity of worship has divided the human race into seventy-two nations. From among all their dogmas I have selected one-the Love of God."

Nor is this comparative spirit restricted to the treatment of language, mythology, and religion. While hitherto we knew the origin and spreading of most of the ancient arts and sciences in one channel only, and had to be satisfied with tracing their sources to Greece and Rome, and thence down the main stream of European civilization, we have now for many of them one or two parallel histories in India and China. The history of geometry, for instance,-the first formation of geometrical conceptions or technical terms-was hitherto known to us from Greece only now we can compare the gradual elaboration of geometrical principles both in Greece and India, and thus arrive at some idea of what is natural or inevitable, and what is accidental or purely personal in each. It was known, for instance, that in Greece the calculation of solid figures began with the building of altars, and you will hear to-day from Dr. Thibaut, that in India also the first impulse to geometric science was given, not by the measuring of fields, as the name implies, but by the minute observances in building altars.

Similar coincidences and divergences have been brought to light by a comparative study of the history of astronomy, of music, of grammar, but most of all, by a comparative study of philosophic thought. There are indeed few problems in philoSophy which have not occupied the Indian mind, and nothing can exceed the interest of watching the Hindu and the Greek, working on the same problems, each in his own way, yet both in the end arriving at much the same results. Such are the coincidences between the two, that but lately an eminent German professor published a treatise to show that the Greeks had borrowed their philosophy from India, while others lean to the opinion that in philosophy the Hindus are the pupils of the Greeks. This is the same feeling which impelled Dugald Stewart, when he saw the striking similarity between Greek and Sanskrit, to maintain that Sanskrit must have been put together after the model of Greek and Latin by those arch-forgers and liars the Brahmans, and that the whole of Sanskrit literature was an imposition. The comparative method has put an end to such violent theories. It teaches us that what is possible in one country is possible also in another; it shows us that, as there are antecedents for Plato and Aristotle in Greece, there are antecedents for the Vedanta and Sânkhya philosophies in India, and that each had its own independent growth. It is true, that when we first meet in Indian philosophy with our old friends, the four or five elements, the atoms, our metaphysics, our logic, our syllogism, we are startled; but we soon discover that, given the human mind and human language, and the world by which we are surrounded, the different systems of philosophy of Thales and Hegel, of Vyasa and Kapila, are inevitable solutions. They all come and go, they are maintained and refuted, till at last all philosophy ends where it ought to begin, with an inquiry into the necessary conditions and the inevitable forms of knowledge, represented by a criticism of Pure Reason and by a criticism of Language.

Much has been done of late for Indian philosophy, particularly by Ballantyne and Hall, by Cowell and Gough, and by the editors of the Bibliotheca Indica and the Pandit. Yet it is much to be desired, that some young scholars, well versed in the history of European philosophy, should devote themselves to this promising branch of Indian literature. No doubt, they would find it a great help, if they were able to spend some years in India, in order to learn from the last and fast disappearing representatives of some of the old schools of Indian philosophy what they alone can teach. What can be done by such a combination of Eastern and Western knowledge, has lately been shown by the excellent work done by Dr. Kielhorn, the Professor of Sanskrit at the Deccan College in Punah. But there is now so much of published materials, and Sanskrit MSS. also are so

1 Aristotel's Metaphysik. eine Tochter der Sânkhya-Lehre des Kapila, von Dr. C. B. Schlüter. 1874.