with its ethics as being a morality of renunciation, and in the explanation epitomized above each section of the path is interpreted in this way.  But this negative form is not a peculiarity of Buddhism.  Only two of the commandments in our Decalogue are positive precepts; the rest are prohibitions.  The same is true of most early codes.  The negative form is at once easier and more practical for it requires a mental effort to formulate any ideal of human life; it is comparatively easy to note the bad things people do, and say, don’t.  The pruning of the feelings, the cutting off of every tendril which can cling to the pleasures of sense, is an essential part of that mental cultivation in which the higher Buddhism consists.  But the Pitakas say clearly that what is to be eliminated is only bad mental states.  Desire for pleasure and striving after wealth are bad, but it does not follow that desire and striving are bad in themselves.  Desire for what is good (Dhammachando as opposed to Kamachando) is itself good, and the effort to obtain nirvana is often described as a struggle or wrestling[468].  Similarly though absolute indifference to pains and pleasures is the ideal for a Bhikkhu, this by no means implies, as is often assumed, a general insensibility and indifference, the harmless oyster-like life of one who hurts nobody and remains in his own shell.  European criticisms on the selfishness and pessimism of Buddhism forget the cheerfulness and buoyancy which are the chief marks of its holy men.  The Buddhist saint is essentially one who has freed himself.  His first impulse is to rejoice in his freedom and share it with others, not to abuse the fetters he has cut away.  Active benevolence and love[469] are enjoined as a duty and praised in language of no little beauty and earnestness.  In the Itivuttaka[470] the following is put into the mouth of Buddha.  “All good works whatever[471] are not worth one sixteenth part of love which sets free the heart.  Love which sets free the heart comprises them:  it shines, gives light and radiance.  Just as the light of all the stars is not worth one sixteenth of the light of the moon:  as in the last month of the rains in the season of autumn, when the sky is clear and cloudless the sun mounts up on high and overcomes darkness in the firmament:  as in the last hour of the night when the dawn is breaking, the morning star shines and gives light and radiance:  even so does love which sets free the soul and comprises all good works, shine and give light and radiance.”  So, too, the Sutta-Nipata bids a man love not only his neighbour but all the world.  “As a mother at the risk of her life watches over her own child, her only child, so let every one cultivate a boundless love towards all beings[472].”  Nor are such precepts left vague and universal.  If some of his acts and words seem wanting in family affection, the Buddha enjoined filial piety as emphatically as Moses or Confucius.  There are two beings, he says, namely Father and Mother, who can never be