It gave none. Think of the peasant lying there in the ghostly
dim-lit fields waiting to attack us at the dawn. Where was his help? He
thought, perhaps, of his king deported, his village invaded, his friends
killed, himself reduced to the subject of a far-off queen. He would
fight--yes, even though his faith told him not. There was no help there.
His was no faith to strengthen his arm, to straighten his aim, to be his
shield in the hour of danger.
If he died, if in the strife of the morning's fight he were to be
killed, if a bullet were to still his heart, or a lance to pierce his
chest, there was no hope for him of the glory of heaven. No, but every
fear of hell, for he was sinning against the laws of
righteousness--'Thou shalt take no life.' There is no exception to that
at all, not even for a patriot fighting for his country. 'Thou shalt not
take the life even of him who is the enemy of thy king and nation.' He
could count on no help in breaking the everlasting laws that the Buddha
has revealed to us. If he went to his monks, they could but say: 'See
the law, the unchangeable law that man is subject to. There is no good
thing but peace, no sin like strife and war.' That is what the followers
of the great teacher would tell the peasant yearning for help to strike
a blow upon the invaders. The law is the same for all. There is not one
law for you and another for the foreigner; there is not one law to-day
and another to-morrow. Truth is for ever and for ever. It cannot change
even to help you in your extremity. Think of the English soldier and the
Burmese peasant. Can there be anywhere a greater contrast than this?
Truly this is not a creed for a soldier, not a creed for a fighting-man
of any kind, for what the soldier wants is a personal god who will
always be on his side, always share his opinions, always support him
against everyone else. But a law that points out unalterably that right
is always right, and wrong always wrong, that nothing can alter one into
the other, nothing can ever make killing righteous and violence
honourable, that is no creed for a soldier. And Buddhism has ever done
this. It never bent to popular opinion, never made itself a tool in the
hands of worldly passion. It could not. You might as well say to
gravity, 'I want to lift this stone; please don't act on it for a time,'
as expect Buddhism to assist you to make war. Buddhism is the
unalterable law of righteousness, and cannot ally itself wi
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