The Tale
There is no doubt that the author of Barlaam and Ioasaph himself regarded his story as a true narrative of the lives of real characters and that this view was universally held until quite recent times. The names of Saint Barlaam and Saint Ioasaph have figured in the Calendars both of the Roman and of the Greek Church and still retain their place in the latter. Today, however, this view can be no longer held. A comparison of the story with the well-known legend of Buddha must convince every open-minded reader, that the outline of the plot is derived from the same Eastern source; in spite of all difference in detail, the general resemblance is quite undeniable. The writer himself tells us, that the story was brought to him from India, and it is highly probable, that what he heard was simply a version of the life of Buddha, adapted by Christians of the East to their own use. But we should be going too far, if we sought for traces of Buddhist influence in the doctrinal teaching of the story. No real relationship has ever yet been proved between Christian and Buddhist monasticism; in fact, in spite of certain obvious resemblances, the two differ profoundly in spirit. The aim of the Buddhist monk is mainly negative—deliverance from the evils of the flesh; that of the Christian has also a positive aspect—surrender of the semblance of happiness in this world in order to gain the reality hereafter, the “ἀπόρρητα ἀγαθά” laid up for the righteous in Heaven.
The main aim of the author was the glorification of this Christian monasticism. Marriage, the cares of social and business life, the duties of citizenship—all these, though not represented as inconsistent with Christian living, appear only as a second best. The ideal is the complete devotion of the whole personality to religious contemplation, the renunciation of wealth and pleasure and the mortification of the flesh. In his enthusiasm for the monastic life, as too in his passionate defence of the veneration of Images, our author shows himself clearly an obstinate adversary of the great Iconoclastic movement of the eighth century AD.
Our book falls roughly into three distinct parts: the narrative—the thread on which the whole is strung: the speeches—many of them of great length—containing long expositions of Christian doctrine, confessions of Faith and hymns of praise, and frequent long quotations from early Christian writers; and the Apologues, fables or parables, introduced in the speeches to illustrate pictorially some moral truth. The whole work is steeped in the language of the Bible and of the Christian Fathers; and it is this fact that has led the translators to adopt a style modelled on that of the Authorised Version. The task is not easy or without its perils; but in no other way, we believe, could the unity of the book be maintained; the Biblical quotations, frequent as they are, would harmonise badly with a more modern style.
Books, like men, have their vicissitudes of fate. The favourite work of one generation may be the laughingstock of the next; and the “edifying story of Barlaam and Ioasaph,” which once enjoyed a popularity comparable to that of the Pilgrim’s Progress and furnished material for storybooks and romances, for sermons and plays, has fallen into deep oblivion. That it will ever regain this lost fame is hardly to be expected; its world of thought is far removed from ours and its controversies have in many cases ceased to concern us very deeply. But the tale has still life and vigour; it is no corpse of a book that we are dragging from its tomb: we found it, as the seekers found the bodies of the dead Saints, Barlaam and Ioasaph, “οὐδὲν τοῦ προτέρου χρωτὸς παράλλαττον, ὁλόκληρον δὲ καὶ ἀκριβῶς ὑγιές.”