law of death.

But although this may seem to be a religion of despair, it is not really
so. This sorrow to which there is no relief is the selfishness of
sorrow, the grief for our own loneliness; for of sorrow, of fear, of
pity for the dead, there is no need. We know that in time all will be
well with them. We know that, though there may be before them vast
periods of suffering, yet that they will all at last be in Nebhan with
us. And if we shall not know them there, still we shall know that they
are there, all of them--not one will be wanting. Purified from the lust
of life, white souls steeped in the Great Peace, all living things will
attain rest at last.

There is this remarkable fact in Buddhism, that nowhere is any fear
expressed of death itself, nowhere any apprehension of what may happen
to the dead. It is the sorrow of separation, the terror of death to the
survivors, that is always dwelt upon with compassion, and the agony of
which it is sought to soothe.

That the dying man himself should require strengthening to face the King
of Terrors is hardly ever mentioned. It seems to be taken for granted
that men should have courage in themselves to take leave of life
becomingly, without undue fears. Buddhism is the way to show us the
escape from the miseries of life, not to give us hope in the hour of
death.

It is true that to all Orientals death is a less fearful thing than it
is to us. I do not know what may be the cause of this, courage certainly
has little to do with it; but it is certain that the purely physical
fear of death, that horror and utter revulsion that seizes the majority
of us at the idea of death, is absent from most Orientals. And yet this
cannot explain it all. For fear of death, though less, is still there,
is still a strong influence upon their lives, and it would seem that no
religion which ignored this great fact could become a great living
religion.

Religion is made for man, to fit his necessities, not man for religion,
and yet the faith of Buddhism is not concerned with death.

Consider our faith, how much of its teaching consists of how to avoid
the fear of death, how much of its consolation is for the death-bed. How
we are taught all our lives that we should live so as not to fear death;
how we have priests and sacraments to soothe the dying man, and give
him hope and courage, and how the crown and summit of our creed is that
we should die easily. And consider that in Buddhism