showed her a hill that gleamed with gold and azure.  ‘Here,’ said she, ’is your future abode.  You will belong to the first order of the blessed.’  When the matron awoke she sent to enquire for Yangkie and Mahu.  The first was already departed; the other still alive and well.  And thus the lady learned that the soul of one who advances in holiness and never turns back, may be already a dweller in the Land of Enlightenment, even though the body still sojourn in this transitory world” (pp. 55-56).

What a singular counterpart the striking conclusion here forms to Dante’s tremendous assault on a still living villain,—­or enemy!

    —­“che per sua opra
    In anima in Cocito gia si bagna,
  Ed in corpo par vivo ancor di sopra.”
      —­Infern. xxxiii. 155.

Again:  “I knew a man who during his life had killed many living beings, and was at last struck with an apoplexy.  The sorrows in store for his sin-laden soul pained me to the heart; I visited him, and exhorted him to call on the Amita; but he obstinately refused, and spoke only of indifferent matters.  His illness clouded his understanding; in consequence of his misdeeds he had become hardened.  What was before such a man when once his eyes were closed?  Wherefore let men be converted while there is yet time!  In this life the night followeth the day, and the winter followeth the summer; that, all men are aware of.  But that life is followed by death, no man will consider.  Oh, what blindness and obduracy is this!” (p. 93).

Again:  “Hoang-ta-tie, of T’ancheu (Changshu-fu in Honan), who lived under the Sung, followed the craft of a blacksmith.  Whenever he was at his work he used to call without intermission on the name of Amita Buddha.  One day he handed to his neighbours the following verses of his own composing to be spread about:—­

  ’Ding dong!  The hammer-strokes fall long and fast,
  Until the Iron turns to steel at last! 
  Now shall the long long Day of Rest begin,
  The Land of Bliss Eternal calls me in.’

Thereupon he died.  But his verses spread all over Honan, and many learned to call upon Buddha” (103).

Once more:  “In my own town there lived a physician by name Chang-yan-ming.  He was a man who never took payment for his treatment from any one in poor or indifferent circumstances; nay, he would often make presents to such persons of money or corn to lighten their lot.  If a rich man would have his advice and paid him a fee, he never looked to see whether it were much or little.  If a patient lay so dangerously ill that Yanming despaired of his recovery, he would still give him good medicine to comfort his heart, but never took payment for it.  I knew this man for many a year, and I never heard the word Money pass his lips!  One day a fire broke out in the town, and laid the whole of the houses in ashes; only that of the physician was spared.  His sons and grandsons reached high dignities” (p. 110).