ligious development of the nations among which it prevails, we must concede that it resulted from an adaptation to their condition and has accomplished much to educate them. The Mahāyāna is a step forward in so far as it changes a philosophy into a religion, and attempts to preach doctrines that were negatively expressed, in positive propositions.
Far from rejecting the religious zeal which gave rise to the Mahāyāna in Buddhism, we can still less join those who denounce Christianity on account of its dogmatology and mythological ingredients. Christianity has certainly had and still has a great mission in the evolution of mankind. It has succeeded in imbuing with the religion of charity and mercy the most powerful nations of the world, to whose spiritual needs it is especially adapted. It extends the blessings of universal good-will with the least possible amount of antagonism to the natural selfishness that is so strongly developed in the Western races. Christianity is the religion of love made easy. This is its advantage, which, however, is not without its drawbacks. Christianity teaches charity without dispelling the ego-illusion; and in this sense it surpasses even the Mahāyāna: it is still more adapted to the needs of multitudes than a large vessel fitted to carry over those who embark on it: it is comparable to a grand bridge, a Mahāsetu, on which a child who has no comprehension as yet of the nature of self can cross the stream of self-hood and worldly vanity.
A comparison of the many striking agreements between Christianity and Buddhism may prove fatal to sectarian
