CHAPTER XIII

THE CANON

1

There are extant in several languages large collections of Buddhist

scriptures described by some European writers as the Canon. The name is

convenient and not incorrect, but the various canons are not altogether

similar and the standard for the inclusion or exclusion of particular

works is not always clear. We know something of four or five canons.

(1) The Pali Canon, accepted by the Buddhists of Ceylon, Burma and Siam,

and rendered accessible to European students by the Pali Text Society.

It professes to contain the works recognized as canonical by the Council

of Asoka and it is reasonably homogeneous, that is to say, although some

ingenuity may be needed to harmonize the different strata of which it

consists, it does not include works composed by several schools.

(2) The Sanskrit Canon or Canons.

_(a)_ Nepalese scriptures. These do not correspond with any Pali texts

and all belong to the Mahayana. There appears to be no standard for

fixing the canonical character of Mahayanist works. Like the Upanishads

they are held to be revealed from time to time.

_(b)_ Buddhist texts discovered in Central Asia. Hitherto these have

been merely fragments, but the number of manuscripts found and not yet

published permits the hope that longer texts may be forthcoming. Those

already made known are partly Mahayanist and partly similar to the Pali

Canon though not a literal translation of it. It is not clear to what

extent the Buddhists of Central Asia regarded the Hina and Mahayanist

scriptures as separate and distinct. Probably each school selected for

itself a small collection of texts as authoritative[599].

_(3)_ The Chinese Canon. This is a gigantic collection of Buddhist works

made and revised by order of various Emperors. The imperial imprimatur

is the only standard of canonicity. The contents include translations of

works belonging to all schools made from the first to the thirteenth

century A.D. The originals were apparently all in Sanskrit and were

probably the texts of which fragments have been found in Central Asia.

This canon also includes some original Chinese works.

(4) There is a somewhat similar collection of translations into Tibetan.

But whereas the Chinese Canon contains translations dated from 67 A.D.

onwards, the Tibetan translations were made mainly in the ninth and

eleventh centuries and represent the literature esteemed by the mediæval

Buddhism of Bengal. Part at least of this Tibetan Canon has been

translated into Mongol.

Renderings of various books into Uigur, Sogdian, Kuchanese, "Nordarisch"

and other languages of Central Asia have been discovered by recent

explorers. It is probable that they are all derived from the Sanskrit

Canon and do not represent any independent tradition. The scriptures

used in Japan and Korea are simply special editions of the Chinese

Canon, not translations.

In the following pages I propose to consider the Pali Canon, postponing

until later an account of the others. It will be necessary, however, to

touch on the relations of Pali and Sanskrit texts.

The scriptures published by the Pali Text Society represent the canon of

the ancient sect called Vibhajjavâdins and the particular recension of

it used at the monastery in Anuradhapura called Mahâvihâra. It is

therefore not incorrect to apply to this recension such epithets as

southern or Sinhalese, provided we remember that in its origin it was

neither one nor the other, for the major part of it was certainly

composed in India[600]. It was probably introduced into Ceylon in the

third century B.C. and it is also accepted in Burma, Siam and

Camboja[601]. Thus in a considerable area it is the sole and undisputed

version of the scriptures.

The canon is often known by the name of Tripiṭaka[602] or Three Baskets.

When an excavation was made in ancient India it was the custom to pass

up the earth in baskets along a line of workmen[603] and the

metaphorical use of the word seems to be taken from this practice and to

signify transmission by tradition.

The three Pitakas are known as Vinaya, Sutta, and Abhidhamma. Vinaya

means discipline and the works included in this division treat chiefly

of the rules to be observed by the members of the Sangha. The basis of

these rules is the Pâtimokkha, the ancient confessional formula

enumerating the offences which a monk can commit. It was read

periodically to a congregation of the order and those guilty of any sin

had to confess it. The text of the Pâtimokkha is in the Vinaya combined

with a very ancient commentary called the Sutta-vibhanga. The Vinaya

also contains two treatises known collectively as the Khandakas but more

frequently cited by their separate names as Mahâvagga and Cullavagga.

The first deals with such topics as the rules for admission to the

order, and observance of fast days, and in treating of each rule it

describes the occasion on which the Buddha made it and to some extent

follows the order of chronology. For some parts of the master's life it

is almost a biography. The Cullavagga is similar in construction but

less connected in style[604]. The Vinaya contains several important and

curious narratives and is a mine of information about the social

conditions of ancient India, but much of it has the same literary value

as the book of Leviticus. Of greater general interest is the Sutta

Pitaka, in which the sermons and discourses of the Buddha are collected.

Sutta is equivalent to the Sanskrit word Sûtra, literally a thread,

which signifies among the Brahmans a brief rule or aphorism but in Pali

a relatively short poem or narrative dealing with a single object. This

Sutta Pitaka is divided into five collections called Nikâyas. The first

four are mainly in prose and contain discourses attributed to Gotama or

his disciples. The fifth is mostly in verse and more miscellaneous.

The four collections of discourses bear the names of Dîgha, Majjhima,

Saṃyutta and Anguttara. The first, meaning long, consists of thirty-four

narratives. They are not all sermons and are of varying character,

antiquity and interest, the reason why they are grouped together being

simply their length[605]. In some of them we may fancy that we catch an

echo of Gotama's own words, but in others the legendary character is

very marked. Thus the Mahâsamaya and Aṭânâṭiya suttas are epitomes of

popular mythology tacked on to the history of the Buddha. But for all

that they are interesting and ancient.

Many of the suttas, especially the first thirteen, are rearrangements of

old materials put together by a considerable literary artist who lived

many generations after the Buddha. The account of the Buddha's last days

is an example of such a compilation which attains the proportions of a

Gospel and shows some dramatic power though it is marred by the

juxtaposition of passages composed in very different styles.

The Majjhima-Nikâya is a collection of 152 discourses of moderate

(majjhima) length. Taken as a whole it is perhaps the most profound and

impassioned of all the Nikâyas and also the oldest. The sermons which it

contains, if not verbatim reports of Gotama's eloquence, have caught the

spirit of one who urged with insistent earnestness the importance of

certain difficult truths and the tremendous issues dependent on right

conduct and right knowledge. The remaining collections, the Saṃyutta and

Anguttara, classify the Buddha's utterances under various headings and

presuppose older documents which they sometimes quote[606]. The Saṃyutta

consists of a great number of suttas, mostly short, combined in groups

treating of a single subject which may be either a person or a topic.

The Anguttara, which is a still longer collection, is arranged in

numerical groups, a method of classification dear to the Hindus who

delight in such computations as the four meditations, the eightfold

path, the ten fetters. It takes such religious topics as can be counted

in this way and arranges them under the numbers from one to eleven. Thus

under three, it treats of thought, word and deed and the applications of

this division to morality; of the three messengers of the gods, old-age,

sickness and death; of the three great evils, lust, ill-will and

stupidity and so on.

The fifth or Khuddaka-Nikâya is perhaps the portion of the Pali

scriptures which has found most favour with Europeans, for the treatises

composing it are short and some of them of remarkable beauty. They are

in great part composed of verses, sometimes disconnected couplets,

sometimes short poems. The stanzas are only imperfectly intelligible

without an explanation of the occasion to which they refer. This is

generally forthcoming, but is sometimes a part of the accepted text and

sometimes regarded as merely a commentary. To this division of the

Pitaka belong the Dhammapada, a justly celebrated anthology of

devotional verses, and the Sutta-Nipâta, a very ancient collection of

suttas chiefly in metre. Other important works included in it are the

Thera and Therî-gâthâ or poems written by monks and nuns respectively,

and the Jâtaka or stories about the Buddha's previous births[607]. Some

of the rather miscellaneous contents of this Nikâya are late and do not

belong to the same epoch of thought as the discourses attributed to

Gotama. Such are the Buddha-vaṃsa, or lives of Gotama and his

twenty-four predecessors, the Cariyâ-Piṭaka, a selection of Jâtaka

stories about Gotama's previous births and the Vimâna and Peta-vatthus,

accounts of celestial mansions and of the distressful existence led by

those who are condemned to be ghosts[608].

Though some works comprised in this Nikâya (e.g. the Suttanipâta) are

very ancient, the collection, as it stands, is late and probably known

only to the southern Church. The contents of it are not quite the same

in Ceylon, Burma and Siam, and only a small portion of them has been

identified in the Chinese Tripitaka. Nevertheless the word

_pañcanekâyika_, one who knows the five Nikâyas, is found in the

inscriptions of Sanchi and five Nikâyas are mentioned in the last books

of the Cullavagga. Thus a fifth Nikâya of some kind must have been known

fairly early.

The third Pitaka is known by the name of Abhidhamma. Dhamma is the usual

designation for the doctrine of the Buddha and Buddhaghosa[609] explains

the prefix abhi as signifying excess and distinction, so that this

Pitaka is considered pre-eminent because it surpasses the others. This

pre-eminence consists solely in method and scope, not in novelty of

matter or charm of diction. The point of view of the Abhidhamma is

certainly later than that of the Sutta Pitaka and in some ways marks an

advance, for instead of professing to report the discourses of Gotama it

takes the various topics on which he touched, especially psychological

ethics, and treats them in a connected and systematic manner. The style

shows some resemblance to Sanskrit sûtras for it is so technical both in

vocabulary and arrangement that it can hardly be understood without a

commentary[610]. According to tradition the Buddha recited the

Abhidhamma when he went to heaven to preach to the gods, and this seems

a polite way of hinting that it was more than any human congregation

could tolerate or understand. Still throughout the long history of

Buddhism it has always been respected as the most profound portion of

the scriptures and has not failed to find students. This Pitaka includes

the Kathâ-vatthu, attributed to Tissa Moggaliputta who is said to have

composed it about 250 B.C. in Asoka's reign[611].

There is another division of the Buddhist scriptures into nine _angas_

or members, namely: 1. Suttas. 2. Geyya: mixed prose and verse. 3.

Gâthâ: verse. 4. Udâna: ecstatic utterances. 5. Veyyâkaraṇa:

explanation. 6. Itivuttaka: sayings beginning with the phrase "Thus said

the Buddha." 7. Jâtaka: stories of former births. 8. Abbhutadhamma:

stories of wonders. 9. Vedalla: a word of doubtful meaning, but perhaps

questions and answers. This enumeration is not to be understood as a

statement of the sections into which the whole body of scripture was

divided but as a description of the various styles of composition

recognized as being religious, just as the Old Testament might be said

to contain historical books, prophecies, canticles and so on.

Compositions in these various styles must have been current before the

work of collection began, as is proved by the fact that all the _angas_

are enumerated in the Majjhima-Nikâya[612].

2

This Tripitaka is written in Pali[613] which is regarded by Buddhist

tradition as the language spoken by the Master. In the time of Asoka the

dialect of Magadha must have been understood over the greater part of

India, like Hindustani in modern times, but in some details of grammar

and phonetics Pali differs from Mâgadhî Prakrit and seems to have been

influenced by Sanskrit and by western dialects. Being a literary rather

than a popular language it was probably a mixed form of speech and it

has been conjectured that it was elaborated in Avanti or in Gândhâra

where was the great Buddhist University of Takshaśîlâ. Subsequently it

died out as a literary language in India[614] but in Ceylon, Burma, Siam

and Camboja it became the vehicle of a considerable religious and

scholastic literature. The language of Asoka's inscriptions in the third

century B.C. is a parallel dialect, but only half stereotyped. The

language of the Mahâvastu and some Mahayanist texts, often called the

language of the Gâthâs, seems to be another vernacular brought more or

less into conformity with Sanskrit. It is probable that in preaching the

Buddha used not Pali in the strict sense but the spoken dialect of

Magadha[615], and that this dialect did not differ from Pali more than

Scotch or Yorkshire from standard English, and if for other reasons we

are satisfied that some of the suttas have preserved the phrases which

he employed, we may consider that apart from possible deviations in

pronunciation or inflexion they are his _ipsissima verba_. Even as we

have it, the text of the canon contains some anomalous forms which are

generally considered to be Magadhisms[616].

The Cullavagga relates how two monks who were Brahmans represented to

the Buddha that "monks of different lineage ... corrupt the word of the

Buddha by repeating it in their own dialect. Let us put the word of the

Buddhas into _chandas_[617]." No doubt Sanskrit verse is meant,

_chandas_ being a name applied to the language of the Vedic verses.

Gotama refused: "You are not to put the word of the Buddhas into

_chandas_. Whoever does so shall be guilty of an offence. I allow you to

learn the word of the Buddhas each in his own dialect." Subsequent

generations forgot this prohibition, but it probably has a historical

basis and it indicates the Buddha's desire to make his teaching popular.

It is not likely that he contemplated the composition of a body of

scriptures. He would have been afraid that it might resemble the hymns

of the Brahmans which he valued so little and he wished all men to hear

his teaching in the language they understood best. But when after his

death his disciples collected his sayings it was natural that they

should make at least one version of them in the dialect most widely

spoken and that this version should be gradually elaborated in what was

considered the best literary form of that dialect[618]. It is probable

that the text underwent several linguistic revisions before it reached

its present state.

Pali is a sonorous and harmonious language which avoids combinations of

consonants and several difficult sounds found in Sanskrit. Its

excellence lies chiefly in its vocabulary and its weakness in its

syntax. Its inflexions are heavy and monotonous and the sentences lack

concentration and variety. Compound words do not assume such monstrous

proportions as in later Sanskrit, but there is the same tendency to make

the process of composition do duty for syntax. These faults have been

intensified by the fact that the language has been used chiefly for

theological discussion. The vocabulary on the other hand is copious and

for special purposes admirable. The translator has to struggle

continually with the difficulty of finding equivalents for words which,

though apparently synonymous, really involve nice distinctions and much

misunderstanding has arisen from the impossibility of adequately

rendering philosophical terms, which, though their European equivalents

sound vague, have themselves a precise significance. On the other hand

some words (e.g. _dhamma_ and _attho_) show an inconveniently wide range

of meaning. But the force of the language is best seen in its power of

gathering up in a single word, generally a short compound, an idea which

though possessing a real unity requires in European languages a whole

phrase for its expression. Thus the Buddha bids his disciples be

_attadîpâ atta-saraṇâ, anañña-saraṇâ: dhammadîpâ dhammasaraṇâ_[619]. "Be

ye lamps unto yourselves. Be ye a refuge unto yourselves. Betake

yourselves to no external refuge. Hold fast to the truth as a lamp. Hold

fast to the truth as a refuge." This is Rhys Davids' translation and

excellent both as English and as giving the meaning. But the five Pali

words compel attention and inscribe themselves on the memory in virtue

of a monumental simplicity which the five English sentences do not

possess.

But the feature in the Pali scriptures which is most prominent and most

tiresome to the unsympathetic reader is the repetition of words,

sentences and whole paragraphs. This is partly the result of grammar or

at least of style. The simplicity of Pali syntax and the small use made

of dependent sentences, lead to the regular alignment of similar phrases

side by side like boards in a floor. When anything is predicated of

several subjects, for instance the five Skandhas, it is rare to find a

single sentence containing a combined statement. As a rule what has to

be said is predicated first of the first Skandha and then repeated

_totidem verbis_ of the others. But there is another cause for this

tedious peculiarity, namely that for a long period the Pitakas were

handed down by oral tradition only. They were first reduced to writing

in Ceylon about 20 B.C. in the reign of Vaṭṭagâmani, more than a century

and a half after their first importation in an oral form. This

circumstance need not throw doubt on the authenticity of the text, for

the whole ancient literature of India, prose as well as verse, was

handed down by word of mouth and even in the present day most of it

could be recovered if all manuscripts and books were lost. The Buddhists

did not, like the Brahmans, make minute regulations for preserving and

memorizing their sacred texts, and in the early ages of the faith were

impressed with the idea that their teaching was not a charm to be learnt

by heart but something to be understood and practised. They nevertheless

endeavoured, and probably with success, to learn by heart the words of

the Buddha, converting them into the dialect most widely understood. It

was then a common thing (and the phenomenon may still be seen in India)

for a man of learning to commit to memory a whole Veda together with

subsidiary treatises on ritual, metre, grammar and genealogy. For such

memories it was not difficult to retain the principal points in a series

of sermons. The Buddha had preached day by day for about forty-five

years. Though he sometimes spoke with reference to special events he no

doubt had a set of discourses which he regularly repeated. There was the

less objection to such repetition because he was continually moving

about and addressing new audiences. There were trained Brahman students

among his disciples, and at his death many persons, probably hundreds,

must have had by heart summaries of his principal sermons.

But a sermon is less easy to remember than a poem or matter arranged by

some method of _memoria technica_. An obvious aid to recollection is to

divide the discourse into numbered heads and attach to each certain

striking phrases. If the phrases can be made to recur, so much the

better, for there is a guarantee of correctness when an expected formula

appears at appropriate points.

It may be too that the wearisome and mechanical iteration of the Pali

Canon is partly due to the desire of the Sinhalese to lose nothing of

the sacred word imparted to them by missionaries from a foreign country,

for repetition to this extent is not characteristic of Indian

compositions. It is less noticeable in Sanskrit Buddhist sûtras than in

the Pali but is very marked in Jain literature. A moderate use of it is

a feature of the Upanishads. In these we find recurring formulæ and also

successive phrases constructed on one plan and varying only in a few

words[620].

But still I suspect that repetition characterized not only the reports

of the discourses but the discourses themselves. No doubt the versions

which we have are the result of compressing a free discourse into

numbered paragraphs and repetitions: the living word of the Buddha was

surely more vivacious and plastic than these stiff tabulations. But the

peculiarities of scholars can often be traced to the master and the

Buddha had much the same need of mnemonics as his hearers. For he had

excogitated complicated doctrines and he imparted them without the aid

of notes and though his natural wit enabled him to adapt his words to

the capacity of his hearers and to meet argument, still his wish was to

formulate a consistent statement of his thoughts. In the earliest

discourse ascribed to him, the sermon at Benares, we see these habits of

numbering and repetition already fully developed. The next discourse, on

the absence of a soul, consists in enumerating the five words, form,

sensation, perception, sankhâras, and consciousness three times, and

applying to each of them consecutively three statements or arguments,

the whole concluding with a phrase which is used as a finale in many

other places. Artificial as this arrangement sounds when analyzed, it is

a natural procedure for one who wished to impress on his hearers a

series of philosophic propositions without the aid of writing, and I can

imagine that these rhythmical formulæ uttered in that grave and pleasant

voice which the Buddha is said to have possessed, seemed to the

leisurely yet eager groups who sat round him under some wayside banyan

or in the monastery park, to be not tedious iteration but a gradual

revelation of truth growing clearer with each repetition.

We gather from the Pitakas that writing was well known in the Buddha's

time[621]. But though it was used for inscriptions, accounts and even

letters, it was not used for books, partly because the Brahmans were

prejudiced against it, and partly because no suitable material for

inditing long compositions had been discovered. There were religious

objections to parchment and leaves were not employed till later. The

minute account of monastic life given in the Vinaya makes it certain

that the monks did not use writing for religious purposes. Equally

conclusive, though also negative, is the fact that in the accounts of

the assemblies at Râjagaha and Vesâlî[622] when there is a dispute as to

the correct ruling on a point, there is no appeal to writing but merely

to the memory of the oldest and most authoritative monks. In the Vinaya

we hear of people who know special books: of monks who are preachers of

the Dhamma and others who know the Sutta: of laymen who have learnt a

particular suttanta and are afraid it will fall into oblivion unless

others learn it from them. Apprehensions are expressed that suttas will

be lost if monks neglect to learn them by heart[623]. From inscriptions

of the third century B.C.[624] are quoted words like Petakî, a reciter

of the Pitakas or perhaps of one Pitaka: Suttântika and Suttântakinî, a

man or woman who recites the suttantas: Pancanekâyika, one who recites

the five Nikâyas. All this shows that from the early days of Buddhism

onwards a succession of persons made it their business to learn and

recite the doctrine and disciplinary rules and, considering the

retentiveness of trained memories, we have no reason to doubt that the

doctrine and rules have been preserved without much loss[625].

Not, however, without additions. The disadvantage of oral tradition is

not that it forgets but that it proceeds snowball fashion, adding with

every generation new edifying matter. The text of the Vedic hymns was

preserved with such jealous care that every verse and syllable was

counted. But in works of lesser sanctity interpolations and additions

were made according to the reciters' taste. We cannot assign to the

Mahâbhârata one date or author, and the title of Upanishad is no

guarantee for the age or authenticity of the treatises that bear it.

Already in the Anguttara-Nikâya[626], we hear of tables of contents and

the expression is important, for though we cannot give any more precise

explanation of it, it shows that care was taken to check the contents of

the works accepted as scripture. But still there is little doubt that

during the two or three centuries following the Buddha's death, there

went on a process not only of collection and recension but also of

composition.

An account of the formation of the canon is given in the last two

chapters of the Cullavagga[627]. After the death of the Buddha his

disciples met to decide what should be regarded as the correct doctrine

and discipline. The only way to do that was to agree what had been the

utterances of the master and this, in a country where the oral

transmission of teaching was so well understood, amounted to laying the

foundations of a canon. Kassapa cross-examined experts as to the

Buddha's precepts. For the rules of discipline Upâli was the chief

authority and we read how he was asked where such and such a rule—for

instance, the commandment against stealing—was promulgated.

"At Râjagaha, sir."

"Concerning whom was it spoken?"

"Dhaniya, the potter's son."

"In regard to what matter?"

"The taking of that which had not been given."

For collecting the suttas they relied on the testimony of Ânanda and

asked him where the Brahmajâla[628] was spoken. He replied "between

Râjagaha and Nâlanda at the royal rest-house at Ambalatthika."

"Concerning whom was it spoken?" "Suppiya, the wandering ascetic and

Brahmadatta the young Brahman."

Then follows a similar account of the Sâmaññaphala sutta and we are told

that Ânanda was "questioned through the five Nikâyas." That is no doubt

an exaggeration as applied to the time immediately after the Buddha's

death, but it is evidence that five Nikâyas were in existence when this

chapter was written[629].

3

Lines of growth are clearly discernible in the Vinaya and Sutta Pitakas.

As already mentioned, the Khuddaka-Nikâya is, as a collection, later

than the others although separate books of it, such as the Sutta-nipâta

(especially the fourth and fifth books), are among the earliest

documents which we possess. But other books such as the Peta-[630] and

Vimâna-vatthu show a distinct difference in tone and are probably

separated from the Buddha by several centuries. Of the other four

Nikâyas the Saṃyutta and Anguttara are the more modern and the Anguttara

mentions Munda, King of Magadha who began to reign about forty years

after the Buddha's death. But even in the two older collections, the

Dîgha and the Majjhima, we have not reached the lowest stratum. The

first thirteen suttantas of the Dîgha all contain a very ancient

tractate on morality, and the Sâmaññaphala and following sections of the

Dîgha and also some suttas of the Majjhima contain either in whole or in

part a treatise on progress in the holy life. These treatises were

probably current as separate portions for recitation before the suttas

in which they are now set were composed.

Similarly, the Vinaya clearly presupposes an old code in the form of a

list of offences called the Pâtimokkha. The Mahâvagga contains a portion

of an ancient word-for-word explanation of this code[631] and most of

the Sutta-vibhanga is an amplification and exposition of it. The

Pâtimokkha was already in existence when these books were composed, for

we hear[632] that if in a company of Bhikkhus no one knows the

Pâtimokkha, one of the younger brethren should be sent to some better

instructed monastery to learn it. And further we hear[633] that a

learned Bhikkhu was expected to know not merely the precepts of the

Pâtimokkha but also the occasion when each was formulated. The place,

the circumstances and the people concerned had been in each case handed

down. There is here all the material for a narrative. The reciter of a

sutta simply adopts the style of a village story-teller. "Thus have I

heard. Once upon a time the Lord was dwelling at Râjagaha," or wherever

it was, and such and such people came to see him. And then, after a more

or less dramatic introduction, comes the Lord's discourse and at the end

an epilogue saying how the hearers were edified and, if previously

unconverted, took refuge in the true doctrine.

The Cullavagga states that the Vinaya (but not the other Pitakas) was

recited and verified at the Council of Vesâlî. As I have mentioned

elsewhere, Sinhalese and Chinese accounts speak of another Council, the

Mahâsangha or Mahâsangîti. Though its date is uncertain, there is a

consensus of tradition to the effect that it recognized a canon of its

own, different from our Pali Canon and containing a larger amount of

popular matter.

Sinhalese tradition states that the canon as we now have it was fixed at

the third Council held at Pataliputra in the reign of Asoka (about

272-232 B.C.). The most precise statements about this Council are those

of Buddhaghosa who says that an assembly of monks who knew the three

Pitakas by heart recited the Vinaya and the Dhamma.

But the most important and interesting evidence as to the existence of

Buddhist scriptures in the third century B.C. is afforded by the Bhâbrû

(or Bhâbrâ) edict of Asoka. He recommends the clergy to study seven

passages, of which nearly all can be identified in our present edition

of the Pitakas[634]. This edict does not prove that Asoka had before him

in the form which we know the Dîgha and other works cited. But the most

cautious logic must admit that there was a collection of the Buddha's

sayings to which he could appeal and that if most of his references to

this collection can be identified in our Pitakas, then the major part of

these Pitakas is probably identical in substance (not necessarily

verbally) with the collection of sayings known to Asoka.

Neither Asoka nor the author of the Kathâ-vatthu cites books by name.

The latter for instance quotes the well-known lines "anupubbena medhavi"

not as coming from the Dhammapada but as "spoken by the Lord." But the

author of the Questions of Milinda, who knew the canonical books by the

names they bear now, also often adopts a similar method of citation.

Although this author's probable date is not earlier than our era his

evidence is important. He mentions all five Nikâyas by name, the titles

of many suttas and also the Vibhanga, Dhâtu-kathâ, Puggala-Paññatti,

Kathâ-vatthu, Yamaka and Paṭṭhâna.

Everything indicates and nothing discredits the conclusion that this

canon of the Vibhajjavâdins was substantially fixed in the time of

Asoka, so far as the Vinaya and Sutta Pitakas are concerned. Some works

of minor importance may have had an uncertain position and subsequent

revisions may have been made but the principal scriptures were already

recognized and contained passages which occur in our versions. On the

other hand this recension of the scriptures was not the only one in

existence. If the patronage of Asoka gave it a special prestige in his

lifetime, it may have lost it in India after his death and for many

centuries the Buddhist Canon, like the list of the Upanishads, must have

been susceptible of alteration. The Sarvâstivâdins compiled an

Abhidhamma Pitaka of their own, apparently in the time of Kanishka, and

the Dharmagupta school also seems to have had its own version of this

Pitaka[635]. The date of the Pali Abhidhamma is very doubtful and I do

not reject the hypothesis that it was composed in Ceylon, for the

Sinhalese seem to have a special taste for such literature. But there is

no proof of this Sinhalese origin.

According to Sinhalese tradition all three Pitakas were introduced into

Ceylon by Mahinda in the reign of Asoka, but only as oral tradition and

not in a written form. They received this latter about 20 B.C., as the

result of a dispute between two monasteries[636]. The controversy is

obscure but it appears that the ancient foundation called Mahâvihâra

accepted as canonical the fifth book of the Vinaya called Parivâra,

whereas it was rejected by the new monastery called Abhayagiri. The

Sinhalese chronicle (Mahâvamsa XXXIII. 100-104) says somewhat abruptly

"The wise monks had hitherto handed down the text of the three Pitakas

(Piṭakattayapâlim) as well as the commentary by word of mouth. But

seeing that mankind was becoming lost, they assembled together and wrote

them in books in order that the faith might long endure." This brief

account seems to mean that a council was held not by the whole clergy of

Ceylon but by the monks of the Mahâvihâra at which they committed to

writing their own version of the canon including the Parivâra. This book

forms an appendix to the Vinaya Pitaka and in some verses printed at the

conclusion is said to be the work of one Dîpa. It is generally accepted

as a relatively late production, composed in Ceylon. If such a work was

included in the canon of the Mahâvihâra, we must admit the possibility

that other portions of it may be Sinhalese and not Indian.

But still the _onus probandi_ lies with those who maintain the Sinhalese

origin of any part of the Pali Canon and two strong arguments support

the Indian origin of the major part. First, many suttas not only show an

intimate knowledge of ancient Indian customs but discuss topics such as

caste, sacrifice, ancient heresies, and the value of the Veda which

would be of no interest to Sinhalese. Secondly, there is no Sinhalese

local colour and no Sinhalese legends have been introduced. Contrast

with this the Dîpa-and Mahâ-vaṃsa both of which open with accounts of

mythical visits paid by the Buddha to Ceylon[637].

In Ceylon versions of the scriptures other than that of the Mahâvihâra

were current until the twelfth century when uniformity was enforced by

Parâkrama Bâhu. Some of these, for instance the Pitaka of the

Vetulyakas, were decidedly heretical according to the standard of local

orthodoxy but others probably presented variations of reading and

arrangement rather than of doctrine. Anesaki[638] has compared with the

received Pali text a portion of the Saṃyuktâgama translated by

Guṇabhadra into Chinese. He thinks that the original was the text used

by the Abhayagiri monastery and brought to China by Fa Hsien.

The Sinhalese ecclesiastical history, Nikâya-Sangrahawa, relates[639]

that 235 years after the Buddha's death nine heretical fraternities were

formed who proceeded to compose scriptures of their own such as the

Varṇapiṭaka and Angulimâla-Piṭaka. Though this treatise is late (_c_.

1400 A.D.) its statements merit attention as showing that even in

orthodox Ceylon tradition regarded the authorized Pitaka as one of

several versions. But many of the works mentioned sound like late

tantric texts rather than compositions of the early heretics to whom

they are attributed.

Ecclesiastical opinion in Ceylon after centuries of discussion ended by

accepting the edition of the Mahâvihâra as the best, and we have no

grounds for rejecting or suspecting this opinion. According to tradition

Buddhaghosa was well versed in Sanskrit but deliberately preferred the

southern canon. The Mahayanist doctor Asanga cites texts found in the

Pali version, but not in the Sanskrit[640]. The monks of the Mahâvihâra

were probably too indulgent in admitting late scholastic treatises, such

as the Parivâra. On the other hand they often showed a critical instinct

in rejecting legendary matter. Thus the Sanskrit Vinayas contain many

more miraculous narratives than the Pali Vinaya.

4

European critics have rarely occasion to discuss the credibility of

Sanskrit literature, for most of it is so poetic or so speculative that

no such question arises. But the Pitakas raise this question as directly

as the Gospels, for they give the portrait of a man and the story of a

life, in which an overgrowth of the miraculous has not hidden or

destroyed the human substratum. How far can we accept them as a true

picture of what Gotama was and taught?

Their credibility must be judged by the standard of Indian oral

tradition. Its greatest fault comes from that deficiency in historic

sense which we have repeatedly noticed. Hindu chroniclers ignore

important events and what they record drifts by in a haze in which

proportion, connection, and dates are lost. They frequently raise a

structure of fiction on a slight basis of fact or on no basis at all.

But the fiction is generally so obvious that the danger of historians in

the past has been not to be misled by it but to ignore the elements of

truth which it may contain. For the Hindus have a good verbal memory;

their genealogies, lists of kings and places generally prove to be

correct and they have a passion for catalogues of names. Also they take

a real interest in describing doctrine. If the Buddha has been

misrepresented, it is not for want of acumen or power of transmitting

abstruse ideas. The danger rather is that he who takes an interest in

theology is prone to interpret a master's teaching in the light of his

own pet views.

The Pitakas illustrate the strong and weak points of Hindu tradition.

The feebleness of the historical sense may be seen in the account of

Devadatta's doings in the Cullavagga[641] where the compiler seems

unable to give a clear account of what he must have regarded as

momentous incidents. Yet the same treatise is copious and lucid in

dealing with monastic rules, and the sayings recorded have an air of

authenticity. In the suttas the strong side of Hindu memory is brought

into play. Of consecutive history there is no question. We have only an

introduction giving the names of some characters and localities followed

by a discourse. We know from the Vinaya that the monks were expected to

exercise themselves in remembering these things, and they are precisely

the things that they would get rightly by heart. I see no reason to

doubt that such discourses as the sermon preached at Benares[642] and

the recurring passages in the first book of the Dîgha-Nikâya are a Pali

version of what was accepted as the words of the Buddha soon after his

death. And the change of dialect is not of great importance. Asoka's

Bhâbrû Edict contains the saying: _Thus the good law shall long endure_,

which is believed to be a quotation and certainly corresponds pretty

closely with a passage in the Anguttara-Nikâya[643]. The King's version

is _Saddhamma cilathitike hasati_: the Pali is _Saddhammo cîratthitiko

hoti_. Somewhat similar may have been the differences between the

Buddha's speech and the text which we possess. The importance of the

change in language is diminished and the facility of transmission is

increased by the fact that in Pali, Sanskrit and kindred Indian

languages ideas are concentrated in single words rather than spread over

sentences. Thus the principal words of the sermon at Benares give its

purport with perfect clearness, if they are taken as a mere list without

grammatical connection. Similarly I should imagine that the recurring

paragraphs about progress in the holy life found in the early Suttas of

the Dîgha-Nikâya are an echo of the Buddha's own words, for they bear an

impress not only of antiquity but of eloquence and elevation. This does

not mean that we have any sermon in the exact form in which Gotama

uttered it. Such documents as the Sâmaññaphala-sutta and Ambaṭṭha-sutta

probably give a good idea of his method and style in consecutive

discourse and argument. But it would not be safe to regard them as more

than the work of compilers who were acquainted with the surroundings in

which he lived, the phrases he used, and the names and business of those

who conversed with him. With these they made a picture of a day in his

life, culminating in a sermon[644].

Like the historical value of the Pitakas, their literary value can be

justly estimated only if we remember that they are not books in our

sense but treatises handed down by memory and that their form is

determined primarily by the convenience of the memory. We must not

compare them with Plato and find them wanting, for often, especially in

the Abhidhamma, there is no intention of producing a work of art, but

merely of subdividing a subject and supplying explanations. Frequently

the exposition is thrown into the form of a catechism with questions and

answers arranged so as to correspond to numbered categories. Thus a

topic may be divided into twenty heads and six propositions may be

applied to each with positive or negative results. The strong point of

these Abhidhamma works---and of Buddhist philosophy generally—lies in

careful division and acute analysis but the power of definition is weak.

Rarely is a definition more than a collection of synonyms and very often

the word to be defined is repeated in the definition. Thus in the

Dhamma-sangaṇi the questions, what are good or bad states of mind?

receive answers cast in the form: when a good or bad thought has arisen

with certain accompaniments enumerated at length, then these are the

states that are good or bad. No definition of good is given.

This mnemonic literature attains its highest excellence in poetry. The

art of composing short poems in which a thought, emotion or spiritual

experience is expressed with a few simple but pregnant words in the

compass of a single couplet or short hymn, was carried by the early

Buddhists to a perfection which has never been excelled. The

Dhammapada[645] is the best known specimen of this literature. Being an

anthology it is naturally more suited for quotation or recitation in

sections than for continuous reading. But its twenty-five chapters are

consecrated each to some special topic which receives fairly consecutive

treatment, though each chapter is a mosaic of short poems consisting of

one or more verses supposed to have been uttered by the Buddha or by

arhats on various occasions. The whole work combines literary beauty,

depth of thought and human feeling in a rare degree. Not only is it

irradiated with the calm light of peace, faith and happiness but it

glows with sympathy, with the desire to do good and help those who are

struggling in the mire of passion and delusion. For this reason it has

found more favour with European readers than the detached and

philosophic texts which simply preach self-conquest and aloofness.

Inferior in beauty but probably older is the Sutta-nipâta, a collection

of short discourses or conversations with the Buddha mostly in verse.

The rugged and popular language of these stanzas which reject

speculation as much as luxury, takes us back to the life of the

wanderers who followed the Buddha on his tours and we may imagine that

poems like the Dhaniya sutta would be recited when they met together in

a rest-house or grove set apart for their use on the outskirts of a

village.

The Buddhist suttas, are interesting as being a special result of

Gotama's activity; they are not analogous to the Brahmanic works called

sûtras, and they have no close parallel in later Indian literature.

There is little personal background in the Upanishads, none at all in

the Sânkhya and Vedânta sûtras. But the Sutta Pitaka is an attempt to

delineate a personality as well as to record a doctrine. Though the idea

of writing biography has not yet been clearly conceived, yet almost

every discourse brings before us the figure of the Lord: though the

doctrine can be detached from the preacher, yet one feels that the

hearers of the Pitaka hungered not merely for a knowledge of the four

truths but for the very words of the great voice: did he really say

this, and if so when, where and why? Most suttas begin by answering

these questions. They describe a scene and report a discourse and in so

doing they create a type of literature with an interest and

individuality of its own. It is no exaggeration to say that the Buddha

is the most living figure in Hindu literature. He stands before us more

distinctly not only than Yâjñavalkya and Śankara, but than modern

teachers like Nanak and Râmânuja and the reason of this distinctness can

I think be nothing but the personal impression which he made on his age.

The later Buddhists compose nothing in the style of the Nikâyas: they

write about Gotama in new and fanciful ways, but no Acts of the Apostles

succeed the Gospels.

Though the Buddhist suttas are _sui generis_ and mark a new epoch in

Indian literature, yet in style they are a natural development of the

Upanishads. The Upanishads are less dogmatic and show much less interest

in the personality of their sages, but they contain dialogues closely

analogous to suttas. Thus about half of the Bṛihad-Âraṇyaka is a

philosophic treatise unconnected with any particular name, but in this

are set five dialogues in which Yâjñavalkya appears and two others in

which Ajâtaśatru and Pravâhaṇa Jaivali are the protagonists.

Though many suttas are little more than an exposition of some doctrine

arranged in mnemonic form, others show eloquence and dramatic skill.

Thus the Sâmaññaphala-sutta opens with a vivid description of the visit

paid one night by Ajâtasattu to the Buddha[646]. We see the royal

procession of elephants and share the alarm of the suspicious king at

the unearthly stillness of the monastery park, until he saw the Buddha

sitting in a lighted pavilion surrounded by an assembly of twelve

hundred and fifty brethren, calm and silent as a clear lake. The king's

long account of his fruitless quest for truth would be tiresome if it

were not of such great historic interest and the same may be said of the

Buddha's enumeration of superstitious and reprehensible practices, but

from this point onwards his discourse is a magnificent crescendo of

thought and language, never halting and illustrated by metaphors of

great effect and beauty. Equally forcible and surely resting on some

tradition of the Buddha's own words is the solemn fervour which often

marks the suttas of the Majjhima such as the descriptions of his

struggle for truth, the admonitions to Râhula and the reproof

administered to Sâti.

5

As mentioned above, our Pali Canon is the recension of the

Vibhajjavâdins. We know from the records of the Chinese pilgrims that

other schools also had recensions of their own, and several of these

recensions—such as those of the Sarvâstivâdins, Mahâsanghikas,

Mahisâsakas, Dhammaguttikas, and Sammitîyas—are still partly extant in

Chinese and Tibetan translations. These appear to have been made from

the Sanskrit and fragments of what was probably the original have been

preserved in Central Asia. A recension of the text in Sanskrit probably

implies less than what we understand by a translation. It may mean that

texts handed down in some Indian dialect which was neither Sanskrit nor

Pali were rewritten with Sanskrit orthography and inflexions while

preserving much of the original vocabulary. The Buddha allowed all men

to learn his teaching in their own language, and different schools are

said to have written the scriptures in different dialects, e.g. the

Mahâsanghikas in a kind of Prakrit not further specified and the

Mahâsammatîyas in Apabhramsa. When Sanskrit became the recognized

vehicle for literary composition there would naturally be in India

(though not in Ceylon) a tendency to rewrite books composed in other

dialects[647]. The idea that when any important matter is committed to

writing it should be expressed in a literary dialect not too

intelligible to the vulgar is prevalent from Morocco to China. The

language of Bengal illustrates what may have happened to the Buddhist

scriptures. It is said that at the beginning of the nineteenth century

ninety per cent, of the vocabulary of Bengali was Sanskrit, and the

grammatical construction sanskritized as well. Though the literary

language now-a-days is less artificial, it still differs widely from the

vernacular. Similarly the spoken word of the Buddha was forced into

conformity with one literary standard or another and ecclesiastical Pali

became as artificial as Sanskrit. The same incidents may be found worked

up in both languages. Thus the Sanskrit version of the story of Pûrṇâ in

the Divyâva-dâna repeats what is found in Pali in the

Saṃyutta-Nikâya[648] and reappears in Sanskrit in the Vinaya of the

Mûlasarvâstivâdin school.

The Chinese Tripitaka has been catalogued and we possess some

information respecting the books which it contains, though none of them

have been edited in Europe. Thus we know something[649] of the

Sarvâstivâdin recension of the Abhidhamma. Like the Pali version it

consists of seven books of which one, the Jñâna-prasthâna by

Kâtyâyanîputra, is regarded as the principal, the rest being

supplementary. All the books are attributed to human authors, and though

some of these bear the names of the Buddha's immediate disciples,

tradition connects Kâtyâyanîputra with Kanishka's council. This is not a

very certain date, but still the inference is that about the time of the

Christian era the contents of the Abhidhamma-Pitaka were not rigidly

defined and a new recension was possible.

The Sanskrit manuscripts discovered in Central Asia include Sûtras from

the Saṃyukta and Ekottara Âgamas (equivalent to the Saṃyutta and

Anguttara Nikâyas), a considerable part of the Dharmapada, fragments of

the Sutta-Nipâta and the Prâtimoksha of the Sarvâstivâdin school. These

correspond fairly well with the Pali text but represent another

recension and a somewhat different arrangement. We have therefore here

fragments of a Sanskrit version which must have been imported to Central

Asia from northern India and covers, so far as the fragments permit us

to judge, the same ground as the Vinaya and Suttas of the Pali Canon.

Far from displaying the diffuse and inflated style which characterizes

the Mahâyâna texts it is sometimes shorter and simpler than our Pali

version[650].

When was this version composed and what is its relation to the Pali? A

definite reply would be premature, for other Sanskrit texts may be

discovered in Central Asia, but two circumstances connect this early

Buddhist literature in Sanskrit with the epoch of Kanishka. Firstly the

Sanskrit Abhidharma of the Sarvâstivâdins seems to date from his council

and secondly a Buddhist drama by Aśvaghosha[651] of about the same time

represents the Buddha as speaking in Sanskrit whereas the inferior

characters speak Prakrit. But these facts do not prove that Sanskrit was

not the language of the canon at an earlier date[652] and it is not safe

to conclude that because Asoka did not employ it for writing edicts it

was not the sacred language of any section of Indian Buddhists. On the

other hand some of the Sanskrit texts contain indications that they are

a translation from Pali or some vernacular[653]. In others are found

historical allusions which suggest that they must have received

additions after our era[654].

I have already raised the question of the relative value attaching to

Pali and Sanskrit texts as authorities for early history. Two instances

will perhaps illustrate this better than a general discussion. As

already mentioned, the Vinaya of the Mûlasarvâstivâdins makes the Buddha

visit north-western India and Kashmir, whereas the Pali texts do not

represent him as travelling further west than the country of the Kurus.

The Sanskrit account is not known to be confirmed by more ancient

evidence, but there is nothing impossible in it, particularly as there

are periods in the Buddha's long life filled by no incidents. The

narrative however contains a prediction about Kanishka and therefore

cannot be earlier than his reign. Now there is no reason why the Pali

texts should be silent about this journey, if the Buddha really made it,

but one can easily imagine reasons for inventing it in the period of the

Kushan kings. North-western India was then full of monasteries and

sacred sites and the same spirit which makes uncritical Buddhists in

Ceylon and Siam assert to-day that the master visited their country

impelled the monks of Peshawar and Kashmir to imagine a not improbable

extension of his wanderings[655].

On the other hand this same Vinaya of the Mûlasarvâstivâdins probably

gives us a fragment of history when it tells us that the Buddha had

three wives, perhaps too when it relates how Râhula's paternity was

called in question and how Devadatta wanted to marry Yaśodharâ after the

Buddha had abandoned worldly life[656]. The Pali Vinaya and also some

Sanskrit Vinayas[657] mention only one wife or none at all. They do not

attempt to describe Gotama's domestic life and if they make no allusion

to it except to mention the mother of Râhula, this is not equivalent to

an assertion that he had no other wife. But when one Vinaya composed in

the north of India essays to give a biography of the Buddha and states

that he had three wives, there is no reason for doubting that the

compiler was in touch with good local tradition.

Hinduism and Buddhism, An Historical Sketch, Vol. 1 · 第 7 / 10 章