The first is said to have been Gedun grub pa (otherwise pronounced Gedun
dubpa). Probably he was the nephew and chief pupil of the Reformer Tsong
Khapa. It was he who founded the monastery of Tashi Lunpo in 1445, and
he is by some therefore called the first Lāma of that monastery. His
birth is supposed to have occurred in 1391 or 1419, and his death in
1473 or 1476. Then he was born again after ten months as Gedun GyamThso
(or Gedun Yamtso), the second Grand Lāma, who is held by some to have
been the real founder of the Avatāra system of perpetual succession by
reincarnations. He filled the Dalai Lāma Chair from 1474 or 1476 to 1540
or 1542.
The third embodiment took place in 1543, and bore the name Sod nam
GyamThso (or Sod nam Yamtso), ‘sea of virtue.’ He was the first who
really took the half Mongolian title of Dalai Lāma. Moreover, he
laboured hard to spread Buddhism among the Mongolians, and founded the
first Great Lāma’s Chair in Mongolia.
In his fourth re-birth, the Dalai Lāma took the name of Yon Jan Yam
Thso, ‘ocean of merit,’ and lived up to his 14th year (until 1602) in
Mongolia, when he moved to Lhāssa.
The fifth Dalai Lāma was the great Navang Lobsang (strictly Ngag dBang
bLo bSang), ‘wise speaker or eloquent sage,’ who is the most celebrated
of all. According to some he was the first real Dalai Lāma, those who
preceded him being merely supreme Lāmas of the Yellow school. His career
lasted from 1617 to 1682. He was a kind of Lāmistic Innocent. But his
long minority led to political disturbances. In the end, Navang Lobsang
overcame all difficulties, and as a sign that the power of a king of
Tibet had been made over to him, built on one summit of the triple hill
Potala, where once the royal castle had stood, that palatial
monastery—that wonderful Lāmistic Vatican—in which he still resides in
his continual re-incarnations (see p. 330).
Indeed the successors of Tsong Khapa had good reason to be satisfied
with their position at that time. They had overshadowed the Red sect, or
reduced it to comparative unimportance. They had won over Mongolia,
which greatly aided them in their struggle for dominion. Monastery after
monastery arose there. The sacred books had been translated into the
Mongolian language, and thousands of Mongolians came every year with
rich presents to worship the re-born Lāmas at Lhāssa, or sent their sons
there for education.
When Navang Lobsang died, his death was concealed by the Regent, and
great intriguing followed. In the interregnum two Dalai Lāmas were
successively set up and deposed. These are not reckoned in the list of
legitimate Dalai Lāmas.
Then a child was chosen, who had all the signs of being called to the
Lāmaship. This was Lobsang Kalsang Yamthso; he is reckoned the sixth
Dalai Lāma. He died in 1758, after gaining some repute as a writer.
The seventh Dalai Lāma was Lobsang Jampal (or Champal) Yamthso, who is
believed to have died in either 1805 or 1808.
The next was Lungtog YamThso, who died a mere infant in 1815 or 1816. He
had three child-successors, who were all killed as minors by the acting
Regent. The last child was made away with in 1837.
If these three children are reckoned, Ge Mure YamThso must be regarded
as the eleventh Dalai Lāma. He died in 1855. The twelfth was born in
1856, and seems to have lived till 1874.
The discovery of the present Dalai Lāma is thus related by Sarat Chandra
Dās.
After the death of an incarnate Lāma, his soul is said ordinarily to
remain in the spiritual world for a space (called Bardo) of at least
forty-nine days. In 1875, one year after the demise of the late Dalai
Lāma, Thinle Gya-tsho, the Regency and the College of Cardinals at
Lhāssa consulted the celebrated oracle of Nachung Chhoskyong about the
re-appearance of the Dalai. The oracle declared that the Grand Lāma
could only be discovered by a monk of the purest morals. Accordingly
the Shar-tse Khanpo of the Galdan monastery, who was well known for
his virtuous character and his profound knowledge of the sacred books,
proceeded to Chhoikhor Gya, where he sat in profound meditation for
full seven days. On the night of the last day he saw a vision, in
which a voice from heaven directed him to go and see a miraculous
sight in the Ya-tsho lake of Chhoikhor Gya. Awaking from his sleep,
the Khanpo went to the lake, where in the crystal-like water he saw
the incarnate Grand Lāma sitting in the lap of his mother and caressed
by his father. The house with its furniture was also visible. All on a
sudden this mirage-like appearance disappeared, and he heard the
neighing of a horse. So much of his dream being fulfilled, he
proceeded on the horse to the province of Kong-po, and, on the way, he
happened to call at the house of a rich and respectable family of the
district of Tag-po. Here he recognized the house, the family, and the
child he had seen in the lake, and at once declared that the real end
of his journey was obtained. On his report the Government officials
and the College of Cardinals, headed by the Regent, visited Tag-po and
escorted the infant with its parents in great pomp to the palace of
Rigyal near Lhāssa. The princely child was only one year old when he
was discovered. He is now ten, and bears the name of Nag-wang Lo-ssang
Thub-dan Gya-tsho, ‘the lord of speech, and powerful ocean of wisdom.’
(This extract is abbreviated.)
A similar list of the Panchen Lāmas who have reigned at Tashi Lunpo has
not been given. When Mr. Sarat Chandra Dās was there in August, 1882,
the then Panchen Lāma died from grief (so it was said) because he had
not been allowed to consecrate the young Dalai Lāma, according to
previous custom.
The next important Lāma in great Tibet (after the Dalai and Panchen
Lāmas) is the Head Lāma or Khanpo of the monastery of Galdan
(Gahdan)—the oldest monastery of the Yellow sect, founded in the year
1409 by the reformer Tsong Khapa (see p. 278), who was the first Abbot.
It once had 8,000 inhabitants. The body of Tsong Khapa is said to be
there visible, preserved from corruption and miraculously poised in the
air. Prints of his hands and feet and his bed are also shown to pilgrims
(see p. 441).
But the Grand Lāma of the Yellow school who comes next in rank to the
Dalai and Panchen Lāmas is the Head of the monastery of Kurun (also
written Kuren) or Urga, in the land of the Khalkhas in Mongolia. His
perpetual re-incarnation began in the sixteenth century. He is generally
called by the Mongolians Maidari or Gegen Khutuktu, but his proper title
is Je Tsun Dampa (or Tampa) Tāranātha. A Tāranātha Lāma (born in 1575)
completed a work on Buddhism in the Tibetan language in 1608 (Markham’s
Tibet, xlviii).
There is also a celebrated Avatāra Lāma at Kuku khotun in Tartary who is
a perpetual re-incarnation of Mañju-ṡrī Khutuktu.
Indeed Mongolia is a kind of paradise in which the monks of Lāmism enjoy
perennial bliss, for the Mongolians are simpler and more full of faith
than the Tibetans.
Another Grand Lāma is the Dharma-rāja of Bhutān (p. 297), and another
Great Lāma is at Peking in China (see p. 299).
As to Ladāk (the capital of which is Le or Leh), this is the most
western part of Tibet that has adopted Lāmism. Aṡoka’s mission
penetrated to Ladāk, so that the whole land in king Kanishka’s time
(that is, in the first century) was Buddhistic. Moreover, the Buddhist
religion (both Red sect and Yellow) has maintained itself there until
now, while in the neighbouring countries of Kashmīr, Kafirstān, the
Panjāb, etc., it has been displaced by Brāhmanism, Islām, and Ṡāktism,
etc. We have little knowledge of the ancient history of Ladāk. It has a
large and ancient monastery at Lāma Yurru, near the Indus—in which is an
enormous image of the cloven-headed[133] Avalokiteṡvara—another at
Hemis, and another at Hanle. (See Cunningham’s ‘Ladāk,’ Mrs. Bridges’
‘Travels,’ and p. 433 of this volume.)
In Tangut, all round the blue lake (Kuku Nūr), Lāmistic Buddhism has
been the established religion since the end of the ninth century. It
seems to have taken a great start upwards in the succeeding four
centuries, for it was in the province of Amdo, as before mentioned (p.
277), that the great Reformer commenced his career. In the North-eastern
corner close to China is the Lāmasery of Kunbum (Kumbum), where Tsong
Khapa was born. When his reputation increased, Lāmas from all parts made
pilgrimages there. Sarat Chandra Dās states that it is inhabited by
9,000 Lāmas of the Yellow sect. Koeppen says that it has a University
with four Faculties, and an important printing-press, and that at the
head of it is an incarnated living Buddha. The Lāmas from Amdo are said
by Koeppen to be more highly-gifted, intelligent, learned, and religious
than the monks of other monasteries. They are intrusted in Lhāssa with
the most important offices, and are employed in the education of the
infant representatives of Buddha. Amdo is still almost a terra
incognita.
Passing on to Nepāl—this country probably adopted Buddhism before the
beginning of the Christian era. It is said that Aṡoka’s missionaries
found their way there; but there is no proof that Buddhism really
flourished in Nepāl till the seventh century, and even then it never
existed except in conjunction with Brāhmanism. It is probable that
Buddhist monasteries and Brāhmanical temples always adjoined each other.
Indeed since the immigration of the Hindūs into Nepāl, and especially
since the invasion of the Gorkhas, there have always been two
nationalities, two languages, two literatures, two religions in contact
with each other.
In recent times Brāhmanism has gained the predominance as the
State-religion, and Buddhism has degenerated, though it is everywhere
tolerated.
It is a question whether the spiritual supremacy of the Tibetan Grand
Lāma has ever been acknowledged in Nepāl proper. But, according to some,
the Dalai Lāma formerly had a legate or representative in the largest
and oldest Buddhistic temple of Khatmandu—the temple of Svayambhu-nāth,
who is here at once Ādi-Buddha and Ṡiva. The Dalai Lāma also claimed the
ownership of this temple, which, he maintained, had been dependent on
him from the earliest times. But it is certain that, even if the Tibetan
Legate ever possessed the authority arrogated by him, he was compelled
by the Gorkhas to abandon his claims. Nevertheless the Tibetan tribes
now in Nepāl still adhere to Buddhism. The same may be said of the
Newars, who are the original possessors of the great valley of Nepāl.
They profess a kind of Buddhism, though they reject the Lāmas, and have
priests of their own, whom they call Bandya (see note p. 263).
With regard to Bhutān (capital town Punakha) it is said to have become
Buddhist about 350 years ago. Its spiritual ruler and incarnated saint
is called Dharma-rāja (or Lāma Rinpoche). He belongs to the Red-cap
school, and calls himself Chief of all the monks of the Dugpa sect. His
subordination to the Dalai Lāma is little more than nominal. The
temporal Governor is called Depa-rāja (Deb-rāja).
The following titles engraved on the Dharma-rāja’s seal of office will
give some idea of his pretensions:—
‘I am the Chief of the realm. Defender of the Faith. Equal to Sarasvatī
in learning. Chief of all the Buddhas. Head-expounder of the Ṡāstras.
Caster out of devils. Most learned in the holy Laws. An Avatār of God.
Absolver of sins. Head of the best of all religions.’ (See Dr. Wright’s
Nepāl.)
It is said that there are about 10,000 monks, and about 50,000 Buddhist
lay families in Bhutān. Many of the monks do not live in monasteries,
but hold offices under the Government.
Next, as to Sikkim—of which Dārjīling, now the Sanitarium of the Bengal
Government, once formed a part. This is a small boundary country between
Bhutān and Nepāl. It seems to have adopted Buddhism about the same time
as Bhutān, or perhaps a century earlier. The Lāmas there belong to the
Dugpa Red sect (p. 268). The aborigines, called Lepchas, though they
venerate the Lāmas, are really only half Buddhists; and their priests,
called Bijna (Bhikshu?) beggars, are half devil-exorcists. The oldest
temple is that of Pemyangchi (see p. 432). Next come the important
monasteries of Tassiding, Changachelling, Raklang, and Tamlung (one
residence of the Rāja, the other being at Chumbi in Tibetan territory).
There is also one near Dārjīling.
We ought finally to advert briefly to China and Japan. It is noteworthy
that next in rank to the Mongolian Grand Lāma comes the Head Lāma of the
great monastery of Peking, who represents Lāmism in that country.
Koeppen informs us that in China, for at least six centuries, there have
been two classes of Buddhist monks side by side, viz. first, the
Ho-shang (p. 92) or Chinese monks, who had become naturalized in the
year 65 after Christ; and, secondly, the Lāmas. These two schools are
not distinguished so much by difference of doctrine and discipline, as
by the position they hold in the empire. The Ho-shang are little more
than separate fraternities of monks, tolerated by the State. They have
no hierarchical organization, and no bishops, but each monastery stands
independently, and has no superior except its own Abbot.
On the other hand, the Lāmas constitute in China a public organized
society, acknowledged to a great extent and supported by the State, and
possessing certain spiritual and temporal rights over particular
districts. It is said, however, that the Lāmistic hierarchy in China is
subordinated to the Government Committee for foreign affairs.
It is further stated that three great monasteries situated in or near
Peking are exclusively reserved for the Tibetan and Mongolian Lāmas, and
that of the three Lāmas who preside over these the chief is the
before-mentioned representative of Lāmism at the Government Court (p.
295).
In China proper, within the eighteen Provinces, the number of the Lāma
monasteries is said to be small, and these are generally to be found in
the Provinces nearest to Tibet and Mongolia.
As to Japan, it does not appear that the Lāmistic form of Buddhism has
penetrated into that country. In all probability Buddhist writings were
introduced there from Corea about A.D. 552[134], but it is certain that
Buddhism did not gain much ascendency in Japan till the ninth century,
and even then was not able to displace either Shintoism or Confucianism
and the worship of deceased ancestors. In fact, Buddhism commended
itself to the Japanese, as it did to the people of every country to
which it spread by its receptivity; and just as in Tibet, it adapted
itself to the Shamanism which previously existed there, so in Japan it
adopted Shintoism, and turned some of the Shinto deities into
Bodhi-sattvas. Then followed the inevitable splitting up of Japanese
Buddhism, as of all other religious systems, through disagreements and
divisions; and in the thirteenth century various sects were developed.
As to these, we need only note that while some sects adopt the early
Atheistic and Agnostic form of Buddhism with its doctrine of Nirvāṇa,
the principal sect called Shin is decidedly Theistic.
Sir Edward Reed, in his work on Japan (i. 84), informs us that he met a
learned priest named Akamatz in company with the Archbishop of the
Western sect. This priest’s account of the Shin sect coincides with the
information which I myself received from a learned Japanese priest at
Oxford.
It appears that the members of this sect believe in Amitābha Buddha as a
Being of infinite light and goodness, their chief prayer-formula being
Namo Amida (for Amita) Butsu, ‘Reverence to the Infinite Buddha,’ that
is to Amitābha[135]. They place faith in the love and mercy of Amita
Buddha, or rather in his readiness to receive them into his paradise
called Sukhāvatī (see pp. 183, 204). At the same time they are required
to lead moral lives, and salvation is practically only obtainable
through their own works. The monks are allowed to marry and to eat flesh
and fish.
Their doctrines have many points of contact with Christianity. The late
Mr. Kasawara of Japan, who belonged to this sect and was highly esteemed
by all who knew him in England, said to a Christian friend that ‘it gave
him great pleasure to meet in the Gospels many coincidences with the
aspirations of his own Buddhist faith, and that he greatly admired the
idea of the Christ as the concrete expression of the Inscrutable Essence
in its twofold form of infinite Light and infinite Love.’
Another well known sect called Nichiren was founded by a celebrated
student and teacher named Nichiren. The Nichirens have been called the
Methodists or Revivalists of Japan. They are very strict, and esteem the
book of the Law as the highest object of veneration. Their prayer is to
the following effect:—‘Glory be to the salvation-bringing book of the
Law!’
Doubtless Japan once had a peculiar hierarchical organization of its
own, which crumbled away not long ago, and need not now be described.
Even in the present day each sect may have its leader or Head, who
exercises a kind of episcopal superintendence like that of a Bishop or
Archbishop.
We have already mentioned (p. 200) that a female form of Avalokiteṡvara
is worshipped in Japan and China as the goddess of mercy. Her name in
China is Kwan-yin, and in Japan Kwan-non; and she is represented as
possessing any number of eyes and arms up to a thousand, and sometimes
three faces.
In concluding this Lecture we may note that Russia is the only European
country to which Lāmistic Buddhism has hitherto penetrated. There are
adherents of the Dalai Lāma among the Burat (Buryad) tribes on the
Baikal Lake, and among the Kalmuks on the Volga. Koeppen informs us that
the chief temple and monastery of the former is on a lake thirty versts
to the North-west of Selenginsk, and that the presiding monk is called
the Khanpo Paṇḍita and claims to be an Avatāra Lāma. The Chief Lāma of
the latter is said to be appointed by the Russian Government.
Hierarchical Buddhism naturally leads us on to the subject of ceremonial
Buddhism, which must be reserved for the next Lecture.
LECTURE XII.
_Ceremonial and Ritualistic Buddhism._
Having in the last Lecture described the manner in which hierarchical
systems were established in various Buddhist countries, we are naturally
led on to consider in the present Lecture the development of what may be
called ‘Ceremonial and Ritualistic Buddhism’; for no hierarchy can
maintain its hold over the masses anywhere without the aid of outward
manifestations, rites, ceremonies, and appeals to the senses.
Early Buddhism was, as we have already shown, vehemently opposed, not
only to all sacerdotalism, but to all merely external ritualistic and
ceremonial observances. It swept away the whole Vedic ritual—the whole
sacrificial system of the Brāhmans; it rejected all penitential
austerities and painful bodily mortifications; it denounced every form
of superstition, idolatry, and priestcraft; it maintained that to lead a
life of purity and high morality was better than all the forms and
ceremonies of religion.
But the very vehemence of its opposition tended to bring about a
reaction. Indeed, the history of all religious movements proves that the
teaching of extreme doctrines of any kind is almost invariably followed
by a Nemesis, though the teacher of them may himself not live to see it.
At the outset a reformer of the ultra type is sure to gain adherents by
his enthusiasm and earnestness, as well as by his ardour in condemning
abuses, but a time is almost certain to come when his followers will
themselves lapse into the identical practices which it was his great
object to denounce.
At all events, it is well known that in the present day the Buddha’s
followers have invented a mass of complicated forms and ceremonies
wholly out of keeping and incompatible with the purer and simpler system
which he himself sought to establish.
In point of fact the Buddha in promulgating his creed did not take into
account the impossibility of eradicating certain deep-seated cravings
inherent in human nature, which every religion aiming at general
acceptance must reckon with and satisfy:—for example, the craving for
the visible, for the audible, and for the tangible; the craving for some
concrete impersonation of infinite goodness and power; the craving for
freedom from personal responsibility and for its transference to a
priesthood; the craving for deliverance from the pains and penalties of
sin; the craving for an infallible guide in all matters of faith and
doctrine.
Later Buddhism, on the other hand, set itself to satisfy these
longings—these ineradicable yearnings of the human heart. It felt that
it could not establish itself on a firm foundation without hierarchical
organizations, and it could not maintain these without external forms,
ceremonies, and ritual observances. It therefore turned the simple
monastic brotherhood into a caste of priests, and it attracted and
gratified the senses of unthinking multitudes by a great variety of
religious rites, usages, and symbols, many of which are quite unique,
while nearly all are accompanied with superstitious practices implying
an amount of ignorance and credulity on the part of the people, quite
unparalleled.
This corrupt phase of Buddhism is especially dominant in Tibet,
Mongolia, and Northern countries. In real truth it might be affirmed of
every Buddhist in Tibet that religious superstition colours all his
thoughts, words, and deeds. It is interwoven with the tissue of his
daily life, and is part and parcel of his worldly occupations. It is
equally part and parcel of the national life, and enters into every
Government transaction. Furthermore, it is fostered by art and science,
and ministered to by painting and sculpture. Nay, it is stamped on
Nature itself. It is impressed on rocks, stones, and trees. It finds its
way to the summit of snow-clad mountains, to the recesses of
inaccessible ravines, and to the extremities of remote deserts.
To crown all, it might be affirmed that in Tibet religious superstition
goes on by machinery, quite independently of the human will. It is kept
in continual activity, night and day, by the flapping of flags, and by
the revolution of innumerable wheels and cylinders, which are acted on
by the forces of wind and water.
It may easily, therefore, be imagined that to give an exhaustive account
of all the ceremonies and superstitious practices of Tibetan, or, as it
may be called, Lāmistic Buddhism, would require the command of unlimited
time. They have been treated of by Koeppen in his second volume, and by
Schlagintweit in his ‘Buddhism in Tibet,’ and have been illustrated by
descriptions in Huc’s travels[136], in Markham’s account of the travels
of Bogle, Turner, and Manning, and in the recent narrative of Mr. Sarat
Chandra Dās’ Journey. All I can attempt is to give a concise account of
some of the chief Lāmistic observances, taking the books just named as
my authorities, and adding whatever information I have been able to
collect myself from other sources, while travelling in Buddhist
countries.
We must, however, guard against the notion that ceremonial observances
are confined to Tibet and Northern regions. They are now more or less
prevalent in Burma and Ceylon, which have adopted much of the Mahā-yāna
system, and to these countries we must give our first attention. Even
the ceremonies now observed at the reception of novices and monks in
Burma and Ceylon are less simple than the early admission-forms already
described (pp. 77, 78, 256).
Of course every novice has to cut off his hair. He does this to prove
that he is ready to give up the most beautiful and highly-prized of all
his personal ornaments for the sake of a religious life.
But other forms have to be gone through in the present day, and I now
give an account of the admission-ceremony of a novice—as performed in
Burma—based on the description in the third chapter of Shway Yoe’s
interesting volume called ‘the Burman[137].’
It is well understood that, according to the strict letter of the law
(p. 77 of the present Lectures), a boy ought not to be admitted to the
novitiate until he is fifteen, but in modern times, the admission often
takes place at twelve or even eleven years of age, the belief being that
until a boy is so admitted he cannot claim to be more than an animal.
The first point to be noted is that his admission involves the dropping
of his secular name, and the receiving of another title to mark that it
is then possible for him to escape the suffering of life. As he is sure
to have been a scholar or pupil in a monastery (Kyoung) before applying
to be admitted as a novice, he has learnt beforehand all the forms of
worship and much that will be required of him during his monastic life;
for instance, that he is to address senior monks in a particular manner
and to wait upon them respectfully; that he is to walk through the
streets keeping his eyes fixed on the ground, without gazing about, even
if he have to pass a pageant or attractive spectacle of any kind; that
he is to wear his garments in the prescribed fashion; that he is to eat
with moderation and dignity.
On the day appointed for the induction-ceremony, the young neophyte
dresses in his gayest clothes, and mounted on a pony, passes at a foot’s
pace through the town or village. A band of music goes before him, and
all his friends dressed in their best garments, follow in a crowd, the
young men dancing and singing, the girls smiling and laughing. Thus he
proceeds in procession to the houses of his relations, to bid them
farewell. Of course the introductory observance is intended as a kind of
dramatic imitation of Gautama Buddha’s celebrated abandonment of his own
family and worldly associates, called the Mahābhinishkramaṇa, ‘the great
going forth from home’ (see p. 28 of this volume). When the round of
visits is finished, the would-be novice turns back with all his
companions to his parents’ house. There he finds a large number of
persons assembled, and among them the Head of the monastery, with
several of his brother monks. These are seated on a raised dais in front
of which are the offerings intended for presentation to them, consisting
of fruit, cooked food, yellow cloth, etc.
The monks (‘Talapoins’) seated in a row, carefully hold up their large
fan-like screens to shut out the female portion of the assemblage from
their view. Portions of the Vinaya (p. 62 of this volume) are then
recited, after which the would-be novice is made to throw off all his
fine clothes and bind a piece of white cloth round his loins. Then his
hair is cut off close, and his head is carefully shaved and washed. Next
he is taken to a bath, and after immersion in pure water, is brought
once more, partially clothed, before the assembled monks. Prostrating
himself three times before them, he raises his hands in reverence, and,
using the regular Pāli form of words, asks to be admitted to the holy
brotherhood. Upon that the Head of the monastery presents him with the
yellow monastic garments. These are duly put on, and the mendicant’s
bowl is hung round his neck. The ceremony concludes by the formal
announcement of his having become a member of the monastery.
The present admission-ceremony in Ceylon appears to be of a simpler
character. In fact it differs little from the ancient form. Those boys
who are destined for the novitiate usually begin their connexion with
the monastery to which they intend to belong by first becoming pupils in
the monastery-school. The devotion of the monkhood to the education of
mere boys was perhaps one of the best results of the progress and
development of Buddhism. In monasteries, all boys may learn to read and
write[138]. There also they gain some experience of monastic duties and
requirements, so that when the time comes for any pupil to enter the
novitiate, his preparedness is taken for granted. He merely makes known
his intention to a superior or senior monk. Then having shaved his head,
and undergone the ceremony of bathing, the applicant, who has furnished
himself with the proper yellow robes, presents them to the superior
monk, and requests to be allowed to receive them again that he may
become a novice. Next, on his reciting the three-refuge formulary, and
the ten prohibitions, he is permitted to take back the monkish garments
and to put them on. He is then formally admitted, and his admission
announced to the other members of the monastery (Hardy’s Eastern
Monachism, p. 23). It may be noted that the monkish garments do not
include a head-covering as in Northern countries.
As to the ceremony of admission to the full monkhood, it differs so
little from the ancient rite (described at p. 79), that no further
description need here be given.
With regard to the religious services performed in the monastic
institutions of modern times, they are, of course, a great advance on
the simple formularies used in early days, before the establishment and
organization of large monasteries.
The earlier and purer Buddhism, as we have seen, had only one religious
formula, and that was a simple expression of veneration for the three
jewels—the Buddha, his Law, and his Order of Monks (p. 78).
Any form of worship was altogether out of place, if not a mere mockery,
when there was no supreme Being to worship; when the Buddha himself, who
never claimed to be more than a perfected man, had passed away into
non-existence, and when all that he left behind was the great ideal of
his own memory, to be venerated and imitated.
When, however, monastic establishments were organized and the doctrine
became developed, a great development of worship took place.
To illustrate this I submit a description of daily life in a Burmese
monastery, based on the information given by Shway Yoe (p. 307), and
often using his words.
It appears that every monastic community in Burma is roused a little
before daylight by the sound of a big bell, beaten with a wooden mallet.
Each monk has then to rise, rinse out his mouth, wash his hands and
face, arrange his dress (the same in which he has slept all night) and
recite a few formularies, among which is one to the following
effect:—‘How great a favour has the Lord Buddha bestowed upon me in
manifesting to me his law, through the observance of which I may escape
the purgatorial penalties of hell and secure salvation!’ All the members
of the fraternity then station themselves before the image of the
Buddha, with the Abbot at their head, and the rest of the brotherhood,
full monks, novices and scholars, according to their order. This done,
they proceed to intone the morning service. At its conclusion each
stands before the Head of the monastery, and pledges himself to observe
during the day all the rules and precepts incumbent upon him. They then
separate—the pupils and novices to sweep the floor of the monastery,
bring drinking water, filter it, etc., the more advanced novices and
full monks to tend the sacred trees; the elders to meditate in solitude
on the miseries of life, such meditation being beyond all other actions
meritorious. Some gather flowers and offer them before the relic-shrine
(Dāgaba).
Then comes a repast, preceded by a grace to the effect that the food is
eaten to satisfy bodily wants, not to please the appetite; that garments
are used to cover nakedness, not for vanity; that health is desired to
give strength for the performance of religious worship and meditation.
After the meal, all devote themselves to study or to teaching. Then
arranging themselves in file, they set out with the Abbot at their head
to receive their food (not beg). Silently they move on through the
streets, fixing their eyes steadily on the ground six feet before them,
meditating on the vanity and mutability of all things, and only halting
when a layman emerges from some door to pour his contribution of rice or
fruit or vegetables into their alms-bowls. The gift received, not a word
or a syllable of thanks is uttered; for is it not the receivers who
confer the favour and not the givers? In this way they circle back to
the monastery.
On their return from their perambulation a portion of the food is
offered to the Buddha, and then all proceed to eat the remainder,
consisting perhaps of cooked rice, boiled peas, fish, cocoa-nut cakes,
cucumbers, or even curried flesh and fowl, usually wrapped separately in
plantain-leaves. Next the bowls are washed, and a few hymns are chanted
before the Buddha’s image. During the succeeding hour the boy-scholars
are allowed to play about, while the monks pass their time in
conversation, and the Abbot receives people who come to pay their
respects. All visitors prostrate themselves before him three times, once
for the Buddha, once for the Law, and once for the Monkhood. The Abbot
in return says: ‘May the supporter’ (so he calls all laymen; compare p.
89), ‘as a reward for merit, be freed from the three calamities (of war,
pestilence, and famine)!’ At about half-past eleven the last regular
meal of the day is eaten. Monks are forbidden to eat after noon. When
the mid-day meal is over, all return to work. Some undertake the
teaching of the boy-scholars. Others read the texts of the Tri-piṭaka
with their commentaries, or superintend the writers who are copying
manuscripts. Some of the older members of the monastery talk with the
idlers, who are to be found lounging about the precincts, and some sink
into deep meditation, which probably ends in deep sleep.
Yet this profound meditation is believed to be all important, for is it
not the path to Arhatship, to Nirvāṇa, and to the acquisition of
supernatural faculties (see p. 245)? Other monks tell the beads of their
rosaries and repeat the prescribed formularies, such as: ‘All is
changeful, all is sorrowful, all is unreal,’ followed by invocations to
the three holies (see p. 175). Between three and four o’clock the
lessons are finished, and the scholars perform any domestic duties
required in the monastery. This is the chief return for the teaching
they receive. Then most of the pupils go to their own homes for dinner.
As to the youthful novices or junior monks, these are all obliged to
fast like the full monks. Many of them go out with some of the senior
monks for a solemn walk. Then at sunset the far-reaching notes of the
bell summon the walkers back to the monastery. All must be within the
walls before the sun goes down. The day’s duties now draw to a close.
The boy-pupils are made to repeat all they have learned during the day,
and some of the Pāli rituals are chanted ‘with spasmodic energy.’ At
half-past eight or nine there are further recitations before the image
of the Buddha. All assemble, as in the morning, and together intone the
hymns. When the last sound of the chant has died away, one of the
novices stands up and proclaims the hour, day of the week, day of the
month, and number of the year. Then all bow before the Buddha’s image,
and thrice before the Head of the monastery, and retire to rest (see
Shway Yoe’s ‘Burman’).
It is noteworthy that severe asceticism and painful austerities—as
practised among the Hindūs from the earliest times up to the present day
(described at pp. 228-230 of this volume)—form no part of the duties of
Buddhist monks; for Buddhism has never sanctioned bodily torture, as
Brāhmanism has done.
We now pass on to a description of the observances usual during the
period of Vassa (see pp. 82-84).
Mr. Dickson has given us some valuable notes on the method of keeping
this season in Ceylon, and I venture to found a short narrative on the
information he has communicated[139].
It seems that the villagers of Ceylon esteem it a privilege and a work
of great merit to send for one or two monk-priests from a monastery and
to minister to their wants, as well as listen to their preaching and
recitations during Vassa.
The season begins on the fifteenth day of the eighth month; that is, on
the day of full moon in the month Ashāḍha (June, July). Sometimes two or
three villages join in inviting a monk-priest to live with them for the
whole three months. They prepare a chamber for his sleeping
accommodation, a room for his meals, a temporary chapel for the
reception of the Buddha’s image, of the relic-casket and of the sacred
books, and a place in which he can recite the law and explain it.
On the first day of Vassa the villagers put on their holiday dresses,
and set off with music, dancers, singers, and flags for the monastery,
where the priest, whom they desire to invite, resides. Thence they
conduct him in procession to their homes. His first act, after his
arrival, is to set up the image and arrange the relic-casket and books.
An altar is placed in front of the image, and on this the people proceed
to make their offerings of flowers and perfumes. Next every villager
contributes something for the priest’s food, such as tea, sugar,
honeycomb, orange-juice, and the like. The priest, in return, pronounces
a benediction, and says:—‘By virtue of this first offering made for the
sake of the Buddha, who is like unto the sun of gods and men, and by
virtue of this second offering made to the monkhood, which is like a
field of merit, may you henceforth be delivered from the evils of birth
in the place of torment, in the world of beasts, in the world of ghosts,
and in the world of demons, and inherit the bliss of those who ascend
and descend through the worlds of gods till you are born again in the
world of men (see p. 21)!’
Then the monk-priest proceeds to the preaching-chamber, in the middle of
which is a chair with a cushion. He takes his seat, and, holding a
screen before his face to prevent his attention being distracted,
commences his recitations. The people sit on the floor—the men on one
side, the women and children on the other. First he repeats the
three-refuge formula (p. 78) and the five prohibitions (p. 126), the
people repeating after him. Next he recites some favourite passage from
the discourses of Buddha, the one generally selected being the
Nidhi-kāṇḍa Sutta (see p. 129). If any listener interposes a remark, or
hints that he does not understand, the priest explains the meaning. The
people then make obeisance and depart.
The monk-priest next repeats to himself the appointed Pirit for the
first day of Vassa—namely, the Maṅgala-sutta, Ratna-sutta, and
Karaṇīya-metta-sutta (see p. 318), after which he retires to rest for a
few hours. Rising before daybreak, he meditates on the virtues of
Buddha, on goodwill towards all living beings, on the impurities of the
body, and on death, walking up and down in his own chamber, or in any
place suitable for perambulation. Next he goes to the temporary chapel,
and prostrating himself before the shrine, says, ‘I worship continually
all the relic-shrines, the sacred Bodhi-tree, and the images of Buddha.
I reverence the three jewels’ (see p. 175). He then arranges his
offering of flowers, and places these with a small portion of his
morning meal on the altar. His meal being concluded, he teaches the
children of the villagers, or he prepares for the mid-day and evening
preaching (baṇa).
These preachings are generally well attended, especially on the four
Poya days (p. 257). On the new-moon and full-moon days, the priest must
go to the nearest monastery and join in the Pātimokkha (see p. 84); and
on the full-moon day, which terminates the three months of Vassa, he
must go there again as before, but on that occasion, addressing the
assembled monks, he must say:—‘Venerable Sirs, I have duly finished the
Vassa; if you have any doubt about it, speak, and tell me in what I have
erred.’ If no one speaks he is held to have fulfilled his duties
faultlessly. Then returning and taking with him a second priest, the two
together perform the Rātri-baṇa or mid-night service, which concludes
the ceremonies of Vassa. Two pulpits, made of four upright posts,
supporting small platforms, are erected, and the people from the
neighbouring villages, dressed in their holiday attire, attend in large
numbers. These nocturnal recitations are commonly continued for about
five hours.
Some account should next be given of the ceremony called Pirit, which is
performed in Ceylon and Burma during Vassa, and also at other times. The
name Pirit is corrupted from the Pāli _paritta_, which again is supposed
to be connected with Sanskṛit paritrā or paritrāṇa, ‘protection[140].’
We must premise that this ceremony had its origin in the fear of evil
spirits and demons everywhere prevalent in the East (see p. 218); but it
must be borne in mind that Buddhism recognizes no order of beings,
called demons, created by God, and eternally separate in nature from
men.
Demons are beings who are regarded as created by men, rather than by
God; for they may have been men in their last state of existence and may
become men again (see p. 122). They are, however, represented as
cherishing spiteful and malevolent feelings against the superior race to
which they once belonged; and all kinds of safeguards and counteracting
influences are thought to be needed to protect human beings from their
malignity.
This is quite in keeping with the Hindū theory, which holds that when a
man addicted to any particular vice dies, his evil nature never dies,
but assumes another personality and lives after him as a demon. And this
applies equally to women, so that the resulting demons may be of either
sex, and the female is held to be more spiteful than the male.
The most effective of all safeguards against the machinations of such
malignant beings, is believed to be the recitation or intoning of the
Buddha’s Law, and especially of the Sutta (Sūtra) division of it already
described (p. 62). And of this division there are choice
portions—twenty-nine in number[141]—supposed to possess greater
prophylactic potency than other portions. Collectively, they constitute
what is called the Pirit, and of these, three are most commonly
recited:—the Maṅgala-sutta, the Ratna-sutta, and the
Karaṇīya-metta-sutta. Part of the first of these has been already given
(at p. 129 of this volume).