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It is necessary here to make pause for a moment and survey the temporal and geographical circ.u.mstances of Buddha's life. His lifetime covered the period of greatest intellectual growth in Athens. If, as some think, the great book of doubt[24] was written by the Hebrew in 450, there would be in three lands, at least, about the same time the same earnestly scornful skepticism in regard to the worn-out teachings of the fathers. But at a time when, in Greece, the greatest minds were still veiling infidelity as best they could, in India atheism was already formulated.
It has been questioned, and the question has been answered both affirmatively and negatively, whether the climatic conditions of Buddha's home were in part responsible for the pessimistic tone of his philosophy. If one compare the geographical relation of Buddhism to Brahmanism and to Vedism respectively with a more familiar geography nearer home, he will be better able to judge in how far these conditions may have influenced the mental and religious tone. Taking Kabul and Kashmeer as the northern limit of the period of the Rig Veda, there are three geographical centres. The lat.i.tude of the Vedic poets corresponds to about the southern boundary of Tennessee and North Carolina. The entire tract covered by the southern migration to the time of Buddhism, extending from Kabul to a point that corresponds to Benares (35 is a little north of Kabul and 25 is a little south of Beh[=a]r), would be represented loosely in the United States by the difference between the northern line of Mississippi and Key West. The extent of Georgia about represents in lat.i.tude the Vedic province (35 to 30), while Florida (30 to 25) roughly shows the southern progress from the seat of old Brahmanism to the cradle of young Buddhism. These are the extreme limits of Vedism, Brahmanism and proto-Buddhism. South of this the country was known to Brahmanism only to be called savage, and not before the late S[=u]tras (c. 300 B.C.) is one brought as far south as Bombay in the West. The [=A]itareya Br[=a]hmana, which represents the old centre of Brahmanism around Delhi, knows of the [=A]ndhras, south of the G.o.d[=a]var[=i] river in the southeast (about the lat.i.tude of Bombay and Hayti), only as outer 'Barbarians.' It is quite conceivable that a race of hardy mountaineers, in shifting their home through generations from the hills of Georgia and Tennessee to the sub-tropical region of Key West (to Cuba), in the course of many centuries might become morally affected. But it seems to us, although the miasmatic plains of Bengal may perhaps present even a sharper contrast to the Vedic region than do Key West and Cuba to Georgia, that the climate in effecting a moral degradation (if pessimism be immoral) must have produced also the effect of mental debility. Now to our mind there is not the slightest proof for the a.s.severation, which has been repeated so often that it is accepted by many nowadays as a truism, that Buddhism or even post-Buddhistic literature shows any trace of mental decay.[25] There certainly is mental weakness in the Br[=a]hmanas, but these cannot all be accredited to the miasms of Bengal. They are the bones of a religion already dead, kept for instruction in a cabinet; dry, dusty, lifeless, but awful to the beholder and useful to the owner. Again, does Buddhism lose in the comparison from an intellectual point of view when set beside the mazy gropings of the Upanishads? We have shown that dogma was the base of primal pantheism; of real logic there is not a whit. We admire the spirit of the teachers in the Upanishads, but we have very little respect for the logical ability of any early Hindu teachers; that is to say, there is very little of it to admire.
The doctors of the Upanishad philosophy were poets, not dialecticians.
Poetry indeed waned in the extreme south, and no spirited or powerful literature ever was produced there, unless it was due to foreign influence, such as the religious poetry of Ramaism and the Tamil _Sittars_. But in secondary subtlety and in the marking of distinctions, in cla.s.sifying and a.n.a.lyzing on dogmatic premises, as well as in the acceptance of hearsay truths as ultimate verities--we do not see any fundamental disparity in these regards between the mind of the Northwest and that of the Southeast; and what superficial difference exists goes to the credit of Buddhism. For if one must have dogma it is something to have system, and while precedent theosophy was based on the former it knew nothing of the latter. Moreover, in Buddhism there is a greater intellectual vigor than in any phase of Brahmanism (as distinct from Vedism). To cast off not only G.o.ds but soul, and more, to deny the moral efficacy of asceticism this was a leap into the void, to appreciate the daring of which one has but to read himself into the priestly literature of Buddha's rivals, both heterodox and orthodox. We see then in Buddhism neither a debauched moral type, nor a weakened intellectuality. The pessimism of Buddhism, so far as it concerns earth, is not only the same pessimism that underlies the religious motive of Brahmanic pantheism, but it is the same pessimism that pervades Christianity and even Hebraism. This world is a sorry place, living is suffering; do thou escape from it.
The pleasures of life are vanity; do thou renounce them. "To die is gain," says the apostle; and the Preacher: "I have seen all the works that are done under the sun and behold all is vanity and vexation of spirit. He that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow. For what hath man of all his labor and of the vexation of his heart, wherein he hath laboured under the sun? For all his days are sorrows and his travail grief. That which befalleth the sons of men befalleth beasts; even one thing befalleth them: as the one dieth so dieth the other; yea, they have all one breath; so that a man hath no preeminence above a beast: for all is vanity. All go unto one place; all are of the dust, and all turn to dust again. Who knoweth the spirit of man whether it goeth upward? I praised the dead which are already dead more than the living which are yet alive. The dead know not anything, their love and their hatred and their envy is now perished; neither have they any more a portion for ever in any thing that is done under the sun. The wandering of the desire, this also is vanity."
The Preacher is a fairly good Buddhist.
If pessimism be the conviction that life on earth is not worth living, this view is shared alike by the greatest of earth's religions. If pessimism be the view that all beauty ends with life and that beyond it there is nothing for which it is worth while to live, then India has no parallel to this Homeric belief. If, however, pessimism mean that to have done with existence on earth is the best that can happen to a man, but that there is bliss beyond, then this is the opinion of Brahmanism, Jainism, and Christianity. Buddhism alone teaches that to live on earth is weariness, that there is no bliss beyond, and that one should yet be calm, pure, loving, and wise.
How could such a religion inspire enthusiasm? How could it send forth jubilant disciples to preach the gospel of joy? Yet did Buddhism do even this. Not less happy and blissful than were they that received the first comfort of pantheism were the apostles of Buddha. His progress was a triumph of gladness. They that believed in him rejoiced and hastened to their fellows with the good tidings. Was it then a new morality, a new ethical code, that thus inspired them? Let one but look at the vows and commandments respectively taken by and given to the Buddhist monk, and he will see that in Buddhism there is no new morality.
The Ten Vows are as follows:
I take the vow not to kill; not to steal; to abstain from impurity; not to lie; to abstain from intoxicating drinks which hinder progress and virtue; not to eat at forbidden times; to abstain from dancing, singing, music and stage plays; not to use garlands, scents, unguents, or ornaments; not to use a high or broad bed; not to receive gold or silver.
The Eight Commandments are as follows:
Do not kill; do not steal; do not lie; do not drink intoxicating drinks; do not commit fornication or adultery; do not eat unseasonable food at night; do not wear garlands or use perfumes; sleep on a mat spread on the ground.
The first five of these commands are given to every Buddhist, monk, or layman; the last three are binding only on the monk.[26]
These laws and rules were, however, as we have indicated in the chapter on Jainism, the common property, with some unimportant variations and exceptions, of the Brahman ascetic, the Jain, and the Buddhist. There was surely nothing here to rouse especial interest.
No. But there was one side of Buddhism that was new, not absolutely new, for it formed part of the moral possession of that early band which we may call the congregation of the Spirit. The Brahman theoretically had done away with penance and with prayer, with the Vedic G.o.ds and with the Vedic rites. Yet was it impossible for him practically to absolve the folk of these. The priest might admit that he knew a better way to salvation, but he still led the people over the hard old road, and he himself went that way also, because it was the way of the fathers, because it was the only way for them that were unwise, and perhaps, too, because it was the only way in which the priest could keep his place as guide and leader of the people.
Jainism smote down some of the obstacles that the Brahman had built and kept. Mah[=a]v[=i]ra made the way to salvation shorter, but he did not make it easier for the ma.s.ses. Asceticism, self-mortification, starvation, torture,--this was his means of gaining happiness hereafter.
But Buddha cut down all obstacles. He made the lowest equal with the highest. It is true that he was no democrat. It is true that his success depended, in great part, on political influence, on the conversion of kings and n.o.bles, men of his own cla.s.s. It is true also that Buddha at first, like every other Hindu theosophist, sought no salvation for the world around him, but only for himself. But he was moved with pity for the mult.i.tude. And why? The sages among them knew no path to happiness save through life-long torture; the common people knew only a religion of rites in which they took no interest, the very words of which were unintelligible; and its priests in their eyes, if not contemptible, at least were unsympathetic. And at the same time the old caste-system oppressed and insulted them. It is evident that the times were ripe for a more humane religion and a new distribution of social privileges. Then Buddha arose and said: "He that is pure in heart is the true priest, not he that knows the Veda. Like unto one that standeth where a king hath stood and spoken, and standing and speaking there deems himself for this a king, seems to me the man that repeateth the hymns, which the wise men of old have spoken, and standing in their place and speaking, deems himself for this a sage.
The Vedas are nothing, the priests are of no account, save as they be morally of repute. Again, what use to mortify the flesh? Asceticism is of no value. Be pure, be good; this is the foundation of wisdom--to restrain desire, to be satisfied with little. He is a holy man who doeth this. Knowledge follows this."
Here is the essence of Buddhism, here is its power; and when one reflects that Buddha added: "Go into all lands and preach this gospel; tell them that the poor and lowly, the rich and high, are all one, and that all castes unite in this religion, as unite the rivers in the sea"--he will understand what key was used to open the hearts of Buddha's kinsmen and people.
But, it will be said, there is nothing in this of that extreme pessimism, of which mention has just been made. True. And this, again, is an important point to bear in mind, that whereas the logic of his own system led Buddha into a formal and complete pessimism, which denies an after-life to the man that finds no happiness in this, he yet never insists upon this. He not only does not insist, but in his talks with his questioners and disciples he uses all means to evade direct inquiry in regard to the fate of man after death. He believed that Nirv[=a]na (extinction of l.u.s.t) led to cessation of being; he did not believe in an immortal soul. But he urged no such negative doctrine as this. What he urged repeatedly was that every one accepting the undisputed doctrine of _karma_ or re-birth in its full extent (i.e., that for every sin here, punishment followed in the next existence), should endeavor to escape, if possible, from such an endless course of painful re-births, and that to accomplish this it was necessary first to be sober and good, then to be learned, but not to be an ascetic. On the other hand the doctrine, in its logical fullness, was a teaching only for the wise, not for fools. He imparted it only to the wise. What is one to understand from this? Clearly, that Buddha regarded the ma.s.s of his disciples as standing in need merely of the Four Great Truths, the confession of which was the sign of becoming a disciple; while to the strong and wise he reserved the logical pessimism, which resulted from his first denials and the premises of causality on which was created his complicated system.
Only thus can one comprehend the importance of Buddhism to his own time and people, only in this light reconcile the discrepancy between the accounts of a religion which roused mult.i.tudes to enthusiasm and joy, while on the other hand it stood on the cold basis of complete nihilism. Formally there was not an esoteric[27] and exoteric Buddhism, but practically what the apostles taught, what Buddha himself taught to the ma.s.s of his hearers was a release from the bondage of the law and the freedom of a high moral code as the one thing needful. But he never taught that sacrifice was a bad thing; he never either took the priest's place himself or cast scorn upon the Brahman caste: "Better even than a harmless[28] sacrifice is liberality" he says, "better than liberality is faith and kindness (non-injury) and truth, better than faith, kindness, and truth is renunciation of the world and the search for peace; best of all, the highest sacrifice and greatest good, is when one enters Nirv[=a]na, saying "I shall not return again to earth." This is to be an Arhat (Perfect Sage).
These are Buddha's own words as he spoke with a Brahman priest,[29]
who was converted thereby and replied at once with the Buddhist's confession of faith: "I take refuge in Buddha, in the doctrine, in the church."
A significant conversation! In many ways these words should be corrective of much that is hazarded today in regard to Buddhism. There is here no elaborate system of metaphysics. Wisdom consists in the truth as it is in Buddha; and before truth stand, as antecedently essential, faith and kindness; for so may one render the pa.s.sive non-injury of the Brahman as taught by the Buddhist. To have faith and good works, to renounce the pomps and vanities of life, to show kindness to every living thing, to seek for salvation, to understand, and so finally to leave no second self behind to suffer again, this is Buddha's doctrine.
We have avoided thus far to define Nirv[=a]na. It has three distinct meanings, eternal blissful repose (such was the Nirv[=a]na of the Jains and in part of Buddhism), extinction and absolute annihilation (such was the Nirv[=a]na of some Buddhists), and the Nirv[=a]na of Buddha himself. Nirv[=a]na meant to Buddha the extinction of l.u.s.t, anger, and ignorance. He adopted the term, he did not invent it. He was often questioned, but persistently refused to say whether he believed that Nirv[=a]na implied extinction of being or not. We believe that in this refusal to speak on so vital a point lies the evidence that he himself regarded the 'extinction' or 'blowing out'
(this is what the word means literally) as resulting in annihilation.
Had he believed otherwise we think he would not have hesitated to say so, for it would have strengthened his influence among them to whom annihilation was not a pleasing thought.
But one has no right to 'go behind the returns' as these are given by Buddha. The later church says distinctly that Buddha himself did not teach whether he himself, his ego, was to live after death or not; or whether a permanent ego exists. It is useless, therefore, to inquire whether Buddha's Nirv[=a]na be a completion, as Muller defines it, or annihilation. To one Buddhistic party it was the one; to the other, the other; to Buddha himself it was what may be inferred from his refusal to make any declaration in regard to it.
The second point of interest is not more easily disposed of. What to the Buddhist is the spirit, the soul of man? It certainly is not an eternal spirit, such as was the spirit of Brahmanic philosophy, or that of the Jain. But, on the other hand, it is clear that something survived after death till one was reborn for the last time, and then entered Nirv[=a]na. The part that animates the material complex is to the Buddhist an individuality which depends on the nature of its former complex, home, and is destined to project itself upon futurity till the house which it has built ceases to exist, a home rebuilt no more to be its tabernacle. When a man dies the component parts of his material personality fall apart, and a new complex is formed, of which the individuality is the effect of the _karma_ of the preceding complex. The new person is one's karmic self, but it is not one's identical ego. There appears, therefore, even in the doctrine of Nirv[=a]na, to lie something of that altruism so conspicuous in the insistence on kindness and conversion of others. It is to save from sorrow this son of one's acts that one should seek to find the end.
But there is no soul to save.
We cannot insist too often on the fact that the religion of Buddha was not less practical than human. He practiced, as he taught, that the more one worked for others, was devoted to others, the less he cared for himself, the less was he the victim of desire. Hence he says that a true Nirv[=a]na may come even in one's own lifetime--the utter surrender of one's self is Nirv[=a]na,[30] while the act of dying only draws the curtain after the tragedy has ended. "Except," Buddha says, "for birth, age, and death, there would be no need of Buddha."
A review of Buddha's system of metaphysics is, therefore, doubly unnecessary for our present purpose.[31] In the first place we believe that most of the categories and metaphysical niceties of Buddhism, as handed down, are of secondary origin; and, were this not so, it is still evident that they were but the unimportant, intellectual appendage of a religion that was based on anything but metaphysical subtleties. Buddha, like every other teacher of his time, had to have a 'system,' though whether the system handed down as his reverts to him it is impossible to say. But Buddha's recondite doctrine was only for the wise. "It is hard to learn for an ordinary person," says Buddha himself. But it was the ordinary person that Buddhism took to its bosom. The reason can be only the one we have given. For the last stage before Arhat-ship Buddha had ready a complicate system. But he did not inflict it on the ordinary person.[32] It was not an essential but the completing of his teaching; in his own eyes truth as represented by the Four Great Truths was the real doctrine.
The religion of Buddha, for the ma.s.s of people, lies in the Four Great Truths and their practical application to others, which implies kindness and love of humanity. For Buddha, whatever may have been the reluctance with which he began to preach, shows in all his teachings and dealings with men an enduring patience under their rebuffs, a brotherly sympathy with their weakness, and a divine pity for their sorrows. Something, too, of divine anger with the pettiness and meanness of the unworthy ones among his followers, as when, after preaching with parable and exhortation to the wrangling brothers of the monastery of Kosamb[=i], he left them, saying, "'Truly these fools are infatuate; it is no easy task to administer instruction to them,'
and," it is added simply, "he rose from his seat and went away."[33]
The significance of the church organization in the development of Buddhism should not be under-estimated. Contrasted with the lack of an organized ecclesiastical corporation among the Brahmans the Buddhistic synod, or congregation, Sangha, exerted a great influence. In different places there would be a park set apart for the Buddhist monks. Here they had their monastery buildings, here they lived during the rainy season, from this place out as a centre the monks radiated through the country, not as lone mendicants, but as members of a powerful fraternity. To this monastery came gifts, receipts of all kinds that never would have been bestowed upon individuals.
Undoubtedly organization did much for the spread of Buddhism. Yet we think its influence has been emphasized almost too much by some scholars, or rather the effect has been represented as too radical.
For the monasteries, as represented by tradition, with their immense wealth and political importance as allies of the heretical kings of the East, are plainly of secondary growth. If one limit their national and political importance to a period one or two hundred years after the Master's time, he will not err in attributing to this cause, as does Barth, the reason for the rapid rise and supremacy of Buddhism over India. But the first beginnings of the inst.i.tution were small, and what is to be sought in the beginning of Buddhism is rather the reason why the monasteries became popular, and what was the hold which Buddha had upon the ma.s.ses, and which induced the formation of this great engine of religious war. And when this first question is raised the answer must still be that the banding together of the monks was not the cause but the effect of the popularity of Buddhism. The first monasteries, as Barth well says, were only a.s.semblies of pious men who formed a spiritual band of religious thinkers, of men who united themselves into one body to the end that they might study righteousness, learning together how to imitate the Master in holiness of living. But the members converted soon became so many that formal a.s.semblies became a necessity to settle the practical disputes and theoretical questions which were raised by the new mult.i.tude of believers, some of whom were more factious than devout. Brahmanism had no need of this. The Brahman priest had his law in tradition; his life and conduct were regulated by immemorial law. The corporations of these priests were but temporary organizations for specific purposes.
They made no attempt to proselytize. Their members never exceeded the bounds of the caste. The cause, then, of the rapid spread of Buddhism at the beginning of its career lies only in the conditions of its teaching and the influential backing of its founder. It was the individual Buddha that captivated men; it was the teaching that emanated from him that fired enthusiasm; it was his position as an aristocrat that made him acceptable to the aristocracy, his magnetism that made him the idol of the people. From every page stands out the strong, attractive personality of this teacher and winner of hearts.
No man ever lived so G.o.dless yet so G.o.dlike. Arrogating to himself no divinity, despairing of future bliss, but without fear as without hope, leader of thought but despising lovingly the folly of the world, exalted but adored, the universal brother, he wandered among men, simply, serenely; with gentle irony subduing them that opposed him, to congregation after congregation speaking with majestic sweetness, the master to each, the friend of all. His voice was singularly vibrant and eloquent;[34] his very tones convinced the hearer, his looks inspired awe. From the tradition it appears that he must have been one of those whose personality alone suffices to make a man not only a leader but a G.o.d to the hearts of his fellows. When such an one speaks he obtains hearers. It matters little what he says, for he influences the emotions, and bends whoever listens to his will. But if added to this personality, if encompa.s.sing it, there be the feeling in the minds of others that what this man teaches is not only a verity, but the very hope of their salvation; if for the first time they recognize in his words the truth that makes of slaves free men, of cla.s.ses a brotherhood, then it is not difficult to see wherein lies the lightning-like speed with which the electric current pa.s.ses from heart to heart. Such a man was Buddha, such was the essential of his teaching; and such was the inevitable rapidity of Buddhistic expansion, and the profound influence of the shock that was produced by the new faith upon the moral consciousness of Buddha's people.
The literature of early Buddhism consists of a number of historical works embodying the life and teaching of the master, some of more didactic and epigrammatic intent, and, in the writings of the Northern Buddhists, some that have given up the verbose simplicity of the first tracts in favor of tasteless and extravagant recitals more stagey than impressive. The final collection of the sacred books (earlier is the Suttanta division into Nik[=a]yas) is called Tripitaka, 'the three baskets,' one containing the tracts on discipline; one, the talks of Buddha; and one, partly metaphysical; called respectively Vinaya, Sutta, and Abhidhamma. The Southern[35] P[=a]li redaction--for the writings of the Northern[36] Buddhists are in Sanskrit--was commented upon in the fifth century of this era by Buddha-gosha ('Buddha's glory'), and appears to be older than the Sanskrit version of Nep[=a]l. Some of the writings go back as far as the Second Council, and their content, so far as it concerns Buddha's own words, in many cases is doubtless a tradition that one should accept as authoritative. The works on discipline, instead of being as dull as one might reasonably expect of books that deal with the petty details of a monastery, are of exceeding interest (although whole chapters conform to the reasonable expectation), for they contain fragments of the work and words of Buddha which give a clearer idea of his personality and teaching than do his more extended, and perhaps less original discourses. They throw a strong light also on the early church, its recalcitrant as well as its obedient members, the quarrels and schisms that appear to have arisen even before Buddha's death.
Thus in the _Mah[=a]vagga_ (ch. X) there is found an account of the schism caused by the expulsion of some unworthy members. The brethren are not only schismatic, some taking the side of those expelled, but they are even insolent to Buddha; and when he entreats them for the sake of the effect on the outer world to heal their differences,[37]
they tell him to his face that they will take the responsibility, and that he need not concern himself with the matter. It is on this occasion that Buddha says, "Truly, these fools are infatuate," leaves them, and goes into solitude, rejoicing to be free from souls so quarrelsome and contentious. Again these tracts give a picture of how they should live that are truly Buddha's disciples. Buddha finds three disciples living in perfect harmony, and asks them how they live together so peaceably and lovingly. In quaint and yet dignified language they reply, and tell him that they serve each other. He that rises first prepares the meal, he that returns last at night puts the room in order, etc. (_ib_. 4). Occasionally in the account of unruly brothers it is evident that tradition must be antic.i.p.ating, or that many joined the Buddhist fraternity as an excuse from restraint. The _Cullavagga_ opens with the story of two notorious renegades, 'makers of strife, quarrelsome, makers of dispute, given to idle talk, and raisers of legal questions in the congregation.' Such were the infamous followers of Panduka and Lohitaka. Of a different sort, Epicurean or rather frivolous, were the adherents of a.s.saji and Punabbasu, who, according to another chapter of the _Cullavagga_ (I.
13), 'cut flowers, planted cuttings of flowers, used ointment and scents, danced, wore garlands, and revelled wickedly.' A list of the amus.e.m.e.nts in which indulged these flighty monks includes 'games played with six and ten pieces, tossing up, hopping over diagrams, dice, jackstraws,[38] ball, sketching, racing, marbles, wrestling,'
etc; to which a like list (_Tevijja_, II) adds chess or checkers ('playing with a board of sixty-four squares or one hundred squares'), ghost stories, and unseemly wrangling in regard to belief ("I am orthodox, you are heterodox"), earning a living by prognostication, by taking omens 'from a mirror' or otherwise, by quack medicines, and by 'pretending to understand the language of beasts.' It is gratifying to learn that the scented offenders described in the first-mentioned work were banished from the order. According to the regular procedure, they were first warned, then reminded, then charged; then the matter was laid before the congregation, and they were obliged to leave the order. Even the detail of Subhadda's insolence is not wanting in these records _(Cull_. XI. 1. and elsewhere). No sooner was Buddha dead than the traitor Subhadda cries out: "We are well rid of him; he gave us too many rules. Now we may do as we like." On which the a.s.sembly proceeded to declare in force all the rules that Buddha had given, although he had left it to them to discard them when they would. The Confessional (P[=a]timokkha), out of which have been evolved in narrative form the Vinaya texts that contain it, concerns graded offences, matters of expiation, rules regarding decency, directions concerning robes, rugs, bowls, and other rather uninteresting topics, all discussed in the form of a confession.[39] The church-reader goes over the rules in the presence of the congregation, and asks at the end of each section whether any one is guilty of having broken this rule. If at the third repet.i.tion no one responds, he says, 'They are declared innocent by their silence.' This was the first public confessional, although, as we have shown above, the idea of a partial remission of sin by means of confession to the priest is found in Brahmanic literature.[40] The confession extends to very small matters, but one sees from other texts that the early congregation laid a great deal of weight on details, such as dress, as the sign of a sober life. Thus in _Mah[=a]vagga_, V. 2 ff., certain Buddhists dress in a worldly way. At one time one is informed of the color of their heretical slippers, at another of the make of their wicked gowns. All this is monastic, even in the discipline which 'sets back'
a badly behaved monk, gives him probation, forces him to be subordinate. In _Cullavagga_, I. 9, there is an account of stupid Seyyasaka, who was dull and indiscreet, and was always getting 'set back' by the brethren. Finally they grow weary of probating him and carry out the _nissaya_ against him, obliging him to remain under the superintendence of others. For, according to Buddha's rule, a wise novice was kept under surveillance, or rather under the authority of others, for five years; a stupid uninformed monk, forever. Buddha's relations with society are plainly set forth. One reads how his devoted friend, King Seniya Bimbis[=a]ra, four years younger than Buddha, and his protector (for he was King of M[=a]gadha), gives him a park, perhaps the first donation of this sort, the origin of all the monastic foundations: "The King of M[=a]gadha, Bimbis[=a]ra, thought 'here is this bamboo forest Venuvana, my pleasure-garden, which is neither too near to the town nor too far from it.... What if I were to give it to the fraternity?' ... And he took a golden vessel (of water) and dedicated the garden to Buddha, saying, 'I give up the park to the fraternity with Buddha at its head.' And the Blessed One accepted the park" (_Mah[=a]vagga_, i. 22).[41] Another such park Buddha accepts from the courtezan, Ambap[=a]li, whose conversation with Buddha and dinner-party to him forms a favorite story with the monks (_Mah[=a]v._ v. 30; _Cull_. ii). The protection offered by Bimbis[=a]ra made the order a fine retreat for rogues. In _Mah[=a]v._ 1. 41 ff. one reads that King Seniya Bimbis[=a]ra made a decree: "No one is to do any harm to those ordained among the c[=a]kya-son's monks.[42] Well taught is their doctrine. Let them lead a holy life for the sake of complete extinction of suffering." But robbers and runaway slaves immediately took advantage of this decree, and by joining the order put the police at defiance. Even debtors escaped, became monks, and mocked their creditors. Buddha, therefore, made it a rule that no robber, runaway slave, or other person liable to arrest should be admitted into the order. He ordained further that no son might join the order without his parents' consent (_ib_. 54). Still another motive of false disciples had to be combated. The parents of Up[=a]li thought to themselves: "What shalt we teach Up[=a]li that he may earn his living?
If we teach him writing his fingers will be sore; if we teach him arithmetic his mind will be sore; if we teach him money-changing his eyes will be sore. There are those Buddhist monks; they live an easy life; they have enough to eat and shelter from the rain; we will make him a monk." Buddha, hearing of this, ordained that no one should be admitted into the order under twenty (with some exceptions).
The monks' lives were simple. They went out by day to beg, were locked in their cells at night (_Mah[=a]v_. i. 53), were probated for light offences, and expelled for very severe ones.[43] The people are represented as murmuring against the practices of the monks at first, till the latter were brought to more modest behavior. It is perhaps only Buddhist animosity that makes the narrator say: "They did not behave modestly at table.... Then the people murmured and said, 'These Buddhist monks make a riot at their meals, _they act just like the Brahman priests.'" (Mah[=a]v_. i. 25; cf. i. 70.)
We turn from the Discipline to the Sermons. Here one finds everything, from moral exhortations to a book of Revelations.[44] Buddha sometimes is represented as entering upon a dramatic dialogue with those whom he wishes to reform, and the talk is narrated. With what soft irony he questions, with what apparent simplicity he argues! In the _Tevijja_[45] the scene opens with a young Brahman. He is a pious and religious youth, and tells Buddha that although he yearns for 'union with Brahm[=a],'[46] he does not know which of the different paths proposed by Brahman priests lead to Brahm[=a]. Do they all lead to union with Brahm[=a]? Buddha answers: 'Let us see; has any one of these Brahmans ever seen Brahm[=a]?' 'No, indeed, Gautama.' 'Or did any one of their ancestors ever see Brahm[=a]?' 'No, Gautama.' 'Well, did the most ancient seers ever say that they knew where is Brahm[=a]?' 'No, Gautama.' 'Then if neither the present Brahmans know, nor the old Brahmans knew where is Brahm[=a], the present Brahmans say in point of fact, "We can show the way to union with what we know not and have never seen; this is the straight path, this is the direct way which leads to Brahm[=a]"--and is this foolish talk?' 'It is foolish talk.' 'Then, as to yearning for union with Brahm[=a], suppose a man should say, "How I long for, how I love the most beautiful woman in this land," and the people should ask, "Do you know whether that beautiful woman is a n.o.ble lady, or a Brahman woman, or of the trader cla.s.s, or a slave?" and he should say, "No"; and the people should say, "What is her name, is she tall or short, in what place does she live?" and he should say, "I know not," and the people should say, "Whom you know not, neither have seen, her you love and long for?" and he should say, "Yes,"--would not that be foolish? Then, after this is a.s.sented to, Buddha suggests another parallel. 'A man builds a staircase, and the people ask, "Do you know where is the mansion to which this staircase leads?" "I do not know." "Are you making a staircase to lead to something, taking it for a mansion, which you know not and have never seen?" "Yes." Would not this be foolish talk?... Now what think you, is Brahm[=a] in possession of wives and wealth?' 'He is not.'
'Is his mind full of anger or free from anger? Is his mind full of malice or free from malice?' 'Free from anger and malice.' 'Is his mind depraved or pure?' 'Pure.' 'Has he self-mastery?' 'Yes.' 'Now what think you, are the Brahmans in possession of wives and wealth, do they have anger in their hearts, do they bear malice, are they impure in heart, are they without self-mastery?' 'Yes.' 'Can there then be likeness between the Brahmans and Brahm[=a]?' 'No.' 'Will they then after death become united to Brahm[=a] who is not at all like them?'
Then Buddha points out the path of purity and love. Here is no negative 'non-injury,' but something very different to anything that had been preached before in India. When the novice puts away hate, pa.s.sion, wrong-doing, sinfulness of every kind, then: 'He lets his mind pervade the whole wide world, above, below, around and everywhere, with a heart of love, far-reaching, grown great, and beyond measure. And he lets his mind pervade the whole world with a heart of pity, sympathy, and equanimity, far-reaching, grown great, and beyond measure.' Buddha concludes (adopting for effect the Brahm[=a] of his convert): 'That the monk who is free from anger, free from malice, pure in mind, and master of himself should after death, when the body is dissolved, become united to Brahm[=a] who is the same--such a condition of things is quite possible' Here is no metaphysics, only a new religion based on morality and intense humanity, yet is the young man moved to say, speaking for himself and the friend with him: 'Lord, excellent are the words of thy mouth. As if one were to bring a lamp into the darkness, just so, Lord, has the truth been made known to us in many a figure by the Blessed One. And we come to Buddha as our refuge, to the doctrine and to the church.
May the Blessed One accept us as disciples, as true believers, from this day forth, as long as life endures.'
The G.o.d Brahm[=a] of this dialoge is for the time being playfully accepted by Buddha as the All-G.o.d. To the Buddhist himself Brahm[=a]
and all the Vedic G.o.ds are not exactly non-existent, but they are dim figures that are more like demi-G.o.ds, fairies, or as some English scholars call them, 'angels.' Whether Buddha himself really believed in them, cannot be a.s.serted or denied. This belief is attributed to him, and his church is very superst.i.tious. Probably Buddha did not think it worth while to discuss the question. He neither knew nor cared whether cloud-beings existed. It was enough to deny a Creator, or to leave no place for him. Thaumaturgical powers are indeed credited to the earliest belief, but there certainly is nothing in harmony with Buddha's usual att.i.tude in the extraordinary discourse called _[=A]kankheyya_, wherein Buddha is represented as ascribing to monks miraculous powers only hinted at in a vague 'shaking of the earth' in more sober speech.[47] From the following let the 'Esoteric Buddhists' of to-day take comfort, for it shows at least that they share an ancient folly, although Buddha can scarcely be held responsible for it: "If a monk should desire to become multiform, to become visible or invisible, to go through a wall, a fence, or a mountain as if through air; to penetrate up or down through solid ground as if through water ... to traverse the sky, to touch the moon ... let him fulfil all righteousness, let him be devoted to that quietude of heart which springs from within ... let him look through things, let him be much alone." That is to say, let him aim for the very tricks of the Yogis, which Buddha had discarded. Is there not here perhaps a little irony? Buddha does not say that the monk will be able to do this--he says if the monk wishes to do this, let him be quiet and meditate and learn righteousness, then perhaps--but he will at least have learned righteousness!
The little tract called _Cetokhila_ contains a sermon which has not lost entirely its usefulness or application, and it is characteristic of the way in which Buddha treated eschatological conundrums: 'If a brother has adopted the religious life in the hope of belonging to some one of the angel (divine) hosts, thinking to himself, "by this morality or by this observance or by this austerity or by this religious life I shall become an angel," his mind does not incline to zeal, exertion, perseverance and struggle, and he has not succeeded in his religious life' (has not broken through the bonds). And, continuing, Buddha says that just as a hen might sit carefully brooding over her well-watched eggs, and might content herself with the wish, 'O that this egg would let out the chick,' but all the time there is no need of this torment, for the chicks will hatch if she keeps watch and ward over them, so a man, if he does not think what is to be, but keeps watch and ward of his words, thoughts, and acts, will 'come forth into the light.'[48]
The questions in regard to Buddha's view of soul, immortality, and religion are answered to our mind as clearly in the following pa.s.sages as Buddha desired they should be. 'Unwisely does one consider: "Have I existed in ages past ... shall I exist in ages yet to be, do I exist at all, am I, how am I? This is a being, whence is it come, whither will it go?" Consideration such as this is walking in the jungle of delusion. These are the things one should consider: "This is suffering, this is the origin of suffering, this is the cessation of suffering, this is the way that leads to the cessation of suffering."
From him that considers thus his fetters fall away' (_Sabb[=a]sava_).
In the _Vang[=i]sa-sutta_ Buddha is asked directly: "Has this good man's life been vain to him, has he been extinguished, or is he still left with some elements of existence; and how was he liberated?" and he replies: "He has cut off desire for name and form in this world. He has crossed completely the stream of birth and death." In the _Salla-sutta_ it is said: "Without cause and unknown is the life of mortals in this world, troubled, brief, combined with pain.... As earthen vessels made by the potter end in being broken, so is the life of mortals." One should compare the still stronger image, which gives the very name of _nir-v[=a]na_ ('blowing out') in the _Upas[=i]vam[=a]navapucch[=a]_: "As a flame blown about by wind goes out and cannot be reckoned as existing, so a sage delivered from name and body disappears, and cannot be reckoned as existing." To this Upas[=i]va replies: "But has he only disappeared, or does he not exist, or is he only free from sickness?" To which Buddha: "For him there is no form, and that by which they say he is exists for him no longer." One would think that this were plain enough.
Yet must one always remember that this is the Arhat's death, the death of him that has perfected himself.[49] Buddha, like the Brahmans, taught h.e.l.l for the bad, and re-birth for them that were not perfected. So in the _Kok[=a]liya-sutta_ a list of h.e.l.ls is given, and an estimate is made of the duration of the sinner's suffering in them.
Here, as if in a Brahman code, is it taught that 'he who lies goes to h.e.l.l,' etc. Even the names of the Brahmanic h.e.l.ls are taken over into the Buddhist system, and several of those in Manu's list of h.e.l.ls are found here.
On the other hand, Buddha teaches, if one may trust tradition, that a good man may go to heaven. 'On the dissolution of the body after death the well-doer is re-born in some happy state in heaven'
(_Mah[=a]parinibb[=a]na,_ i. 24).[50] This, like h.e.l.l, is a temporary state, of course, before re-birth begins again on earth. In fact, Buddhist and Brahmanic pantheists agree in their att.i.tude toward the respective questions of h.e.l.l, heaven, and _karma_. It is only the emanc.i.p.ated Arhat that goes to Nirv[=a]na.[51]
When it is said that Buddha preaches to a new convert 'in due course,'
it means always that he gave him first a lecture on morality and religion, and then possibly, but not necessarily, on the 'system.' And Buddha has no narrow-minded aversion to Brahmans; he accepts 'Brahman'
as he accepts 'Brahm[=a],' only he wants it to be understood what is a real Brahman: 'A certain Brahman once asked Buddha how one becomes a Brahman,--what are the characteristics that make a man a Brahman. And the Blessed One said: "The Brahman who has removed all sinfulness, who is free from haughtiness, free from impurity, self-restrained, who is an accomplished master of knowledge, who has fulfilled the duties of holiness,--such a Brahman justly calls himself a Brahman."'[52] "The _Mah[=a]vagga_, from which this is taken, is full of such sentiments.
As here, in i. 2, so in i. 7: "The Blessed One preached to Yasa, the n.o.ble youth, 'in due course,'" that is to say, "he talked about the merit obtained by alms-giving, the duties of morality, about heaven, about the evils of vanity and sinfulness of desire," and when the Blessed One saw that the mind of Yasa, the n.o.ble youth, was prepared, "then he preached the princ.i.p.al doctrine of the Buddhists, namely, suffering, and cause of suffering, the cessation of suffering, the Path;" and "just as a clean cloth takes the dye, thus Yasa, the n.o.ble youth, even while sitting there, obtained the knowledge that whatsoever is subject to birth is also subject to death."[53]