But in what _way_ is this bliss of annihilation to be reached? Only by a long and arduous struggle. There are four truths to be believed. 1. There is nothing in life but sorrow. 2. The root of sorrow is desire. 3. Desire must be destroyed. 4. The way to destroy desire is to follow the eightfold path, viz., 1. Right doctrine. 2. Right purpose. 3. Right discourse. 4. Right behavior. 5. Right purity. 6. Right thought. 7. Right solitude. 8. Right rapture.
But in order to do these eight right things, five commandments must be kept. 1. Not to kill. 2. Not to steal. 3. Not to commit adultery. 4. Not to lie. 5. Not to get intoxicated. And upon these commandments Gaudama himself gives the following commentary:
“He who kills as much as a louse or a bug; he who takes so much as a thread that belongs to another; he who with a wishful thought looks at another man’s wife; he who makes a jest of what concerns the advantage of another; he who puts on his tongue as much as the drop that would hang upon the point of a blade of grass, of anything bearing the sign of intoxicating liquor, has broken the commandments.”
There are four stages to be arrived at in the way of salvation. 1. The believer has a change of heart, and conquers lust, pride, and anger. 2. He is set free from ignorance, doubt, and wrong belief. 3. He enters the state of universal kindliness. 4. He reaches _Nirvana_.
In this succession of stages Buddha makes right conduct a precedent condition to spiritual knowledge; and so is in striking harmony with a greater than he: “If any man willeth to do His will, he shall know of the doctrine.”
It is clear that the strength of Buddhism lies not in its philosophy or theology, but in its code of morals. To its system of rightness rigidly practiced by its founder, it owes its vitality. If the presentation of a system of morality could save, then long since India, Burmah, Ceylon, Siam, Thibet, and China ought to have become an earthly paradise. Besides the virtues ordinarily recognized in heathen codes, Buddhism teaches meekness and forbearance. The pious Buddhist, when struck a violent blow, can meekly reflect that it is in consequence of some sin that he has committed in a previous state of existence. This is a system that teaches us to love our fellow-men tenderly and perseveringly. “As even at the risk of her own life a mother watches over her own child, her only child, so let him—the Buddhist saint—exert good-will without measure towards all beings.” It even teaches resignation in sorrow. I give the following beautiful story as it is told by T. W. Rhys Davids:
“Buddha is said to have brought back to her right mind a young mother whom sorrow had for a time deprived of reason. Her name was Kisagotami. She had been married early, as is the custom in the East, and had a child when she was still a girl. When the beautiful boy could run alone, he died. The young girl, in her love for it, carried the dead child clasped in her bosom, and went from house to house of her pitying friends, asking them to give her medicine for it. But a Buddhist, thinking, ‘She does not understand,’ said to her, ‘My good girl, I myself have no such medicine as you ask for, but I think I know of one who has.’ ‘Oh, tell me who that is,’ said Kisagotami. ‘The Buddha can give you medicine; go to him,’ was the answer.
“She went to Gaudama, and, doing homage to him, said: ‘Lord and master, do you know any medicine that will be good for my child?’ ‘Yes, I know of some,’ said the teacher. Now it was the custom for patients or their friends to provide the herbs which the doctors required; so she asked what herbs he would want. ‘I want some mustard seed,’ he said; and when the poor girl eagerly promised to bring some of so common a drug, he added: ‘You must get it from some home where no son, or husband, or parent, or slave has died.’ ‘Very good,’ she said; and went to seek for it, still carrying her dead child with her. The people said, ‘Here is mustard seed, take it’; but when she asked, ‘In my friend’s house has any son died, or a husband, or a parent, or a slave?’ they answer, ‘Lady, what is this that you say? The living are few, but the dead are many.’ Then she went to other houses, but one said, ‘I have lost a son’; another, ‘We have lost our parents’; another, ‘I have lost my slave.’ At last, not being able to find a single house where no one had died, her mind began to clear, and summoning up resolution she left the dead body of her child in a forest, and returning to the Buddha, paid him homage. He said to her, ‘Have you the mustard seed?’ ‘My Lord,’ she replied, ‘I have not; the people tell me that the living are few, but the dead are many.’ Then he talked to her on that essential part of his system, the impermanency of all things, till her doubts were cleared away; she accepted her lot, became a disciple, and entered ‘the first path.’”