by his teaching, he observed to his disciples that His Majesty had all the makings of a saint in him, if only he had not killed that excellent man his own father.  Somewhat similar is his judgment[391] on two naked ascetics, who imitated in all things the ways of a dog and a cow respectively, in the hope of thus obtaining salvation.  When pressed to say what their next birth would be, he opined that if their penance was successful they would be reborn as dogs and cows, if unsuccessful, in hell.  Irony and modesty are combined in his rejection of extravagant praise.  “Such faith have I, Lord[392]” said Sariputta, “that methinks there never has been nor will be nor is now any other greater or wiser than the Blessed One.”  “Of course, Sariputta” is the reply, “you have known all the Buddhas of the past.”  “No, Lord.”  “Well then, you know those of the future.”  “No, Lord.”  “Then at least you know me and have penetrated my mind thoroughly.”  “Not even that, Lord.”  “Then why, Sariputta, are your words so grand and bold.”

There is much that is human in these passages yet we should be making a fancy portrait did we allow ourselves to emphasize them too much and neglect the general tone of the Pitakas.  These scriptures are the product of a school; but that school grew up under the Buddha’s personal influence and more than that is rooted in the very influences and tendencies which produced the Buddha himself.  The passionless, intellectual aloofness; the elemental simplicity with which the facts of life are stated and explained without any concession to sentiment, the rigour of the prescription for salvation, that all sensual desire and attachment must be cut off, are too marked and consistent for us to suppose them due merely to monkish inability to understand the more human side of his character.  The Buddha began his career as an Indian Muni, one supposed to be free from all emotions and intent only on seeking deliverance from every tie connecting him with the world.  This was expected of him and had he done no more it would have secured him universal respect.  The fact that he did a great deal more, that he devoted his life to active preaching, that he offered to all happiness and escape from sorrow, that he personally aided with advice and encouragement all who came to him, caused both his contemporaries and future generations to regard him as a saviour.  His character and the substance of his teaching were admirably suited to the needs of the religious world of India in his day.  Judged by the needs of other temperaments, which are entitled to neither more nor less consideration, they seem too severe, too philosophic and the later varieties of Buddhism have endeavoured to make them congenial to less strenuous natures.