The Singhalese, and the nations of further Asia, are indebted to Buddhism for an alphabet and a literature[1]; and whatever of authentic history we possess in relation to these countries we owe to the influence of their generic religion.  Nor are its effects limited to these objects:  much of what is vigorous in the character of its northern converts may be traced to the operation of its principles, in the development of their peculiar idiosyncrasy, which, unlike that of the unwarlike Singhalese, rejected sloth and effeminacy to aim at conquest and power.  Looking to the self-reliance which Buddhism inculcates, the exaltation of intellect which it proclaims, and the perfection of virtue and wisdom to which it points as within the reach of every created being, it may readily be imagined, that it must have wielded a spell of unusual potency, and one well calculated to awaken boldness and energy in those already animated by schemes of ambition.  In Ceylon, on the contrary, owing more or less to insulation and seclusion, Buddhism has survived for upwards of 2000 years as unchanged in all its leading characteristics as the genius of the people has remained torpid and inanimate under its influence.  In this respect the Singhalese are the living mummies of past ages; and realise in their immovable characteristics the Eastern fable of the city whose inhabitants were perpetuated in marble.  If change has in any degree supervened, it has been from the corruption of the practice, not from any abandonment of the principles, of Buddhism; and in arts, literature, and civilisation, the records of their own history, and the ruins of their monuments, attest their deterioration in common with that of every other nation which has not at some time been brought under the ennobling influences of Christianity.

[Footnote 1:  See BURNOUF et LASSEN, Essai sur le Pali, ou Langue Sacree de la Presqu’ile au-dela du Gange, ch. i., &c.]

In alluding to the doctrines of Buddhism, as it exists at the present day, my observations are to be understood as applying to the aspect under which it presents itself in Ceylon, irrespective of the numerous forms in which it has been cultivated elsewhere.  Even before the decease of the last Buddha, schisms had arisen amongst his followers in India.  Eighteen heresies are deplored in the Mahawanso within two centuries from his death; and four distinct sects, each rejoicing in the name of Buddhists, are still to be traced amongst the remnants of his worshippers in Hindustan.[1] In its migrations to other countries since its dispersion by the Brahmans, Buddhism has assumed and exhibited itself in a variety of shapes.  At the present day its doctrines, as cherished among the Jainas of Guzerat and Rajpootana[2], differ widely from its mysteries, as administered by the Lama of Thibet; and both are equally distinct from the metaphysical abstractions propounded by the monks of Nepal.  Its observances in Japan have undergone a still more striking alteration from their vicinity to the Syntoos; and in China they have been similarly modified in their contact with the rationalism of Lao-tsen and the social demonology of the Confucians.[3] But in each and all the distinction is in degree rather than essence; and the general concurrence is unbroken in all the grand essentials of the system.