said, “is still the soul of the administration;” and he preferred to devote his
remaining years to the study of the Law of Buddha. The Emperor invited him to
write a narrative of his travels, and placed at his disposal a monastery where he
might employ himself in peaceful and happy seclusion in translating the works
he had brought back from India. He quickly wrote and published his travels, but
the translation of the Sanskrit MSS. occupied the rest of his life. It is said that the
number of the works he translated, with the assistance of a large staff of monks,
amounted to 740, in 1335 volumes. Often he might be seen pondering a passage
of difficulty, when suddenly a flash of inspiration would seem to enlighten his
mind. His soul was cheered, as when a man walking in darkness sees all at once
the sun piercing the clouds and shining in its full brightness; and, unwilling to
trust to his own understanding, he used to attribute his knowledge to a secret
inspiration of Buddha and the Bôdhisattvas.
When his last hour approached, he divided all his property among the poor,
invited his friends to come and see him, and take a cheerful farewell of the
impure body of Hiouen-thsang. “I desire,” he said, “that whatever merits I may
have gained by good works may fall upon other people. May I be born again
with them in the heaven of the blessed, be admitted to the family of Mi-le, and
serve the Buddha of the future, who is full of kindness and affection. When I
descend again upon earth to pass through other forms of existence, I desire at
every new birth to fulfil my duties towards Buddha, and arrive at the last at the
highest and most perfect intelligence.” He died in the year 664.
The life of Hiouen-thsang, and his narrative of travel, have been translated into
French by M. Stanislas Julien.[14] The foregoing particulars have been borrowed
from a review of M. Julien’s work, by Max Müller, which originally appeared in
the “Times” of April 17 and 20, 1857.
We translate from Stanislas Julien’s “Vie et Voyages de Hiouen-thsang” the
Chinese narrative of the pilgrim’s last days:—
“After completing his translation of the Pradjñâ, the Master of the Law became
conscious that his strength was failing, and that his end was near at hand.
Accordingly he spoke to his disciples: ‘If I came into the palace of Yu-hoa-kong,
it was, as you know, on account of the sacred book of the Pradjñâ. Now that the
work is finished, I feel that my thread of life is run out. When after death you
remove me to my last resting-place, see that everything be done in a modest and
simple manner. You will wrap my body in a mat, and deposit it in some calm
and solitary spot in the bosom of a valley. Carefully avoid the neighbourhood of