INTRODUCTION.
1. THE MAHÂYÂNA AND THE HÎNAYÂNA
BUDDHISM.
The terms “Mahâyâna” and “Hînayâna” may sound unfamiliar to most of our readers, perhaps even to those who have devoted some time to the study of Buddhism. They have hitherto been induced to believe that there is but one form of Buddhism, and that there exists no such distinction as Mahâyânism and Hînayânism. But, as a matter of fact, there are diverse schools in Buddhism just as in other religious systems. It is said that, within a few hundred years after the demise of Buddha, there were more than twenty different schools,[1] all claiming to be the orthodox teaching of their master. These, however, seem to have vanished into insignificance one after another, when there arose a new school quite different in its general constitution from its predecessors, but far more important in its significance as a religious movement. This new school or rather system made itself so prominent in the meantime as to stand distinctly alone from all the other schools, which later became a class by itself. Essentially, it taught everything that was considered to be Buddhistic, but it was very comprehensive in its principle and method and scope. And, by reason of this, Buddhism was now split into two great systems, Mahâyânism and Hînayânism, the latter indiscriminately including all the minor schools which preceded Mahâyânism in their formal establishment.
Broadly speaking, the difference between Mahâyânism and Hînayânism is this: Mahâyânism is more liberal and progressive, but in many respects too metaphysical and full of speculative thoughts that frequently reach a dazzling eminence: Hînayânism, on the other hand, is somewhat conservative and may be considered in many points to be a rationalistic ethical system simply.
Mahâyâna literally means “great vehicle” and Hînayâna “small or inferior vehicle,” that is, of salvation. This distinction is recognised only by the followers of Mahâyânism, because it was by them that the unwelcome title of Hînayânism was given to their rival brethren,—thinking that they were more progressive and had a more assimilating energy than the latter. The adherents of Hînayânism, as a matter of course, refused to sanction the Mahâyânist doctrine as the genuine teaching of Buddha, and insisted that there could not be any other Buddhism than their own, to them naturally the Mahâyâna system was a sort of heresy.
Geographically, the progressive school of Buddhism found its supporters in Nepal, Tibet, China, Corea, and Japan, while the conservative school established itself in Ceylon,[2] Siam, and Burma. Hence the Mahâyâna and the Hînayâna are also known respectively Northern and Southern Buddhism.
En passant, let me remark that this distinction, however, is not quite correct, for we have some schools in China and Japan, whose equivalent or counterpart cannot be found in the so-called Northern Buddhism, that is, Buddhism flourishing in Northern India. For instance, we do not have in Nepal or in Tibet anything like the Sukhâvatî sects of Japan or China. Of course, the general essential ideas of the Sukhâvatî philosophy are found in the sûtra literature as well as in the writings of such authors as Açvaghoṣa, Asanga, and Nâgârjuna. But those ideas were not developed and made into a new sect as they were in the East. Therefore, it may be more proper to divide Buddhism into three, instead of two, geographical sections: Southern, Northern, and Eastern.
Why the two Doctrines?
In spite of this distinction, the two schools, Hînayânism and Mahâyânism, are no more than two main issues of one original source, which was first discovered by Çâkyamuni; and, as a matter of course, we find many common traits which are essential to both of them. The spirit that animated the innermost heart of Buddha is perceptible in Southern as well as in Northern Buddhism. The difference between them is not radical or qualitative as imagined by some. It is due, on the one hand, to a general unfolding of the religious consciousness and a constant broadening of the intellectual horizon, and, on the other hand, to the conservative efforts to literally preserve the monastic rules and traditions. Both schools started with the same spirit, pursuing the same course. But after a while one did not feel any necessity for broadening the spirit of the master and adhered to his words as literally as possible; whilst the other, actuated by a liberal and comprehensive spirit, has drawn nourishments from all available sources, in order to unfold the germs in the original system that were vigorous and generative. These diverse inclinations among primitive Buddhists naturally led to the dissension of Mahâyânism and Hînayânism.
We cannot here enter into any detailed accounts as to what external and internal forces were acting in the body of Buddhism to produce the Mahâyâna system, or as to how gradually it unfolded itself so as to absorb and assimilate all the discordant thoughts that came in contact with it. Suffice it to state and answer in general terms the question which is frequently asked by the uninitiated: “Why did one Buddhism ever allow itself to be differentiated into two systems, which are apparently in contradiction in more than one point with each other?” In other words, “How can there be two Buddhisms equally representing the true doctrine of the founder?”
The reason is plain enough. The teachings of a great religious founder are as a rule very general, comprehensive, and many-sided: and, therefore, there are great possibilities in them to allow various liberal interpretations by his disciples. And it is on this very account of comprehensiveness that enables followers of diverse needs, characters, and trainings to satisfy their spiritual appetite universally and severally with the teachings of their master. This comprehensiveness, however, is not due to the intentional use by the leader of ambiguous terms, nor is it due to the obscurity and confusion of his own conceptions. The initiator of a movement, spiritual as well as intellectual, has no time to think out all its possible details and consequences. When the principle of the movement is understood by the contemporaries and the foundation of it is solidly laid down, his own part as initiator is accomplished; and the remainder can safely be left over to his successors. The latter will take up the work and carry it out in all its particulars, while making all necessary alterations and ameliorations according to circumstances. Therefore, the rôle to be played by the originator is necessarily indefinite and comprehensive.
Kant, for instance, as promoter of German philosophy, has become the father of such diverse philosophical systems as Jacobi’s, Fichte’s, Hegel’s, Schopenhauer’s, etc., while each of them endeavored to develop some points indefinitely or covertly or indirectly stated by Kant himself. Jesus of Nazareth, as instigator of a revolutionary movement against Judaism, did not have any stereotyped theological doctrines, such as were established later by Christian doctors. The indefiniteness of his views was so apparent that it caused even among his personal disciples a sort of dissension, while a majority of his disciples cherished a visionary hope for the advent of a divine kingdom on earth. But those externalities which are doomed to pass, do not prevent the spirit of the movement once awakened by a great leader from growing more powerful and noble.
The same thing can be said of the teachings of the Buddha. What he inspired in his followers was the spirit of that religious system which is now known as Buddhism. Guided by this spirit, his followers severally developed his teachings as required by their special needs and circumstances, finally giving birth to the distinction of Mahâyânism and Hînayânism.
The Original Meaning of Mahâyâna.
The term Mahâyâna was first used to designate the highest principle, or being, or knowledge, of which the universe with all its sentient and non-sentient beings is a manifestation, and through which only they can attain final salvation (mokṣa or nirvâna). Mahâyâna was not the name given to any religious doctrine, nor had it anything to do with doctrinal controversy, though later it was so utilised by the progressive party.
Açvaghoṣa, the first Mahâyâna expounder known to us,—living about the time of Christ,—used the term in his religio-philosophical book called Discourse on the Awakening of Faith in the Mahâyâna[3] as synonymous with Bhûtatathâtâ, or Dharmakâyâ,[4] the highest principle of Mahâyânism. He likened the recognition of, and faith in, this highest being and principle into a conveyance which will carry us safely across the tempestuous ocean of birth and death (samsâra) to the eternal shore of Nirvâna.
Soon after him, however, the controversy between the two schools of Buddhism, conservatives and progressionists as we might call them, became more and more pronounced; and when it reached its climax which was most probably in the times of Nâgârjuna and Âryadeva, i.e., a few centuries after Açvaghoṣa, the progressive party ingeniously invented the term Hînayâna in contrast to Mahâyâna, the latter having been adopted by them as the watchword of their own school. The Hînayânists and the Tîrthakas[5] then were sweepingly condemned by the Mahâyânists as inadequate to achieve a universal salvation of sentient beings.
An Older Classification of Buddhists.
Before the distinction of Mahâyânists and Hînayânists became definite, that is to say, at the time of Nâgârjuna or even before it, those Buddhists who held a more progressive and broader view tried to distinguish three yânas among the followers of the Buddha, viz., Bodhisattva-yâna, Pratyekabuddha-yâna, and Çrâvaka-yâna; yâna being another name for class.
The Bodhisattva is that class of Buddhists who, believing in the Bodhi (intelligence or wisdom), which is a reflection of the Dharmakâya in the human soul, direct all their spiritual energy toward realising and developing it for the sake of their fellow-creatures.
The Pratyekabuddha is a “solitary thinker” or a philosopher, who, retiring into solitude and calmly contemplating on the evanescence of worldly pleasures, endeavors to attain his own salvation, but remains unconcerned with the sufferings of his fellow-beings. Religiously considered, a Pratyekabuddha is cold, impassive, egotistic, and lacks love for all mankind.
The Çrâvaka which means “hearer” is inferior in the estimate of Mahâyânists even to the Pratyekabuddha, for he does not possess any intellect that enables him to think independently and to find out by himself the way to final salvation. Being endowed, however, with a pious heart, he is willing to listen to the instructions of the Buddha, to believe in him, to observe faithfully all the moral precepts given by him, and rests fully contented within the narrow horizon of his mediocre intellect.
To a further elucidation of Bodhisattvahood and its important bearings in the Mahâyâna Buddhism, we devote a special chapter below. For Mahâyânism is no more than the Buddhism of Bodhisattvas, while the Pratyekabuddhas and the Çrâvakas are considered by Mahâyânists to be adherents of Hînayânism.
The Mahâyâna Buddhism Defined.
We can now form a somewhat definite notion as to what the Mahâyâna Buddhism is. It is the Buddhism which, inspired by a progressive spirit, broadened its original scope, so far as it did not contradict the inner significance of the teachings of the Buddha, and which assimilated other religio-philosophical beliefs within itself, whenever it felt that, by so doing, people of more widely different characters and intellectual endowments could be saved. Let us be satisfied at present with this statement, until we enter into a more detailed exposition of its doctrinal peculiarities in the pages that follow.
It may not be out of place, while passing, to remark that the term Mahâyânism is used in this work merely in contradistinction to that form of Buddhism, which is flourishing in Ceylon and Burma and other central Asiatic nations, and whose literature is principally written in the language called Pâli, which comes from the same stock as Sanskrit. The term “Mahâyâna” does not imply, as it is used here, any sense of superiority over the Hînayâna. When the historical aspect of Mahâyânism is treated, it may naturally develop that its over-zealous and one-sided devotees unnecessarily emphasised its controversial and dogmatical phase at the sacrifice of its true spirit; but the reader must not think that this work has anything to do with those complications. In fact, Mahâyânism professes to be a boundless ocean in which all form of thought and faith can find its congenial and welcome home; why then should we make it militate against its own fellow-doctrine, Hînayânism?
2. IS THE MAHÂYÂNA BUDDHISM THE GENUINE
TEACHING OF THE BUDDHA?
What is generally known to the Western nations by the name of Buddhism is Hînayânism, whose scriptures as above stated are written in Pâli and studied mostly in Ceylon, Burma, and Siam. It was through this language that the first knowledge of Buddhism was acquired by Orientalists; and naturally they came to regard Hînayânism or Southern Buddhism as the only genuine teachings of the Buddha. They insisted, and some of them still insist, that to have an adequate and thorough knowledge of Buddhism, they must confine themselves solely to the study of the Pâli, that whatever may be learned from other sources, i.e., from the Sanskrit, Tibetan, or Chinese documents should be considered as throwing only a side-light on the reliable information obtained from the Pâli, and further that the knowledge derived from the former should in certain cases be discarded as accounts of a degenerated form of Buddhism. Owing to these unfortunate hypotheses, the significance of Mahâyânism as a living religion has been entirely ignored; and even those who are regarded as best authorities on the subject appear greatly misinformed and, what is worse, altogether prejudiced.
No Life Without Growth.
This is very unfair on the part of the critics, because what religion is there in the whole history of mankind that has not made any development whatever, that has remained the same, like the granite, throughout its entire course? Let us ask whether there is any religion which has shown some signs of vitality and yet retained its primitive form intact and unmodified in every respect. Is not changeableness, that is, susceptibility to irritation the most essential sign of vitality? Every organism grows, which means a change in some way or other. There is no form of life to be found anywhere on earth, that does not grow or change, or that has not any inherent power of adjusting itself to the surrounding conditions.
Take, for example, Christianity. Is Protestantism the genuine teaching of Jesus of Nazareth? or does Catholicism represent his true spirit? Jesus himself did not have any definite notion of Trinity doctrine, nor did he propose any suggestion for ritualism. According to the Synoptics, he appears to have cherished a rather immature conception of the kingdom of God than a purely ideal one as conceived by Paul, and his personal disciples who were just as illiterate philosophically as the master himself were anxiously waiting in all probability for its mundane realisation. But what Christians, Catholics or Protestants, in these days of enlightenment, would dare give a literal explanation to this material conception of the coming kingdom?
Again, think of Jesus’s view on marriage and social life. Is it not an established fact that he highly advocated celibacy and in the case of married people strict continence, and also that he greatly favored pious poverty and asceticism in general? In these respects, the monks of the Medieval Ages and the Catholic priests of the present day (though I cannot say they are ascetic and poor in their living) must be said to be in more accord with the teaching of the master than their Protestant brethren. But what Protestants would seriously venture to defend all those views of Jesus, in spite of their avowed declaration that they are sincerely following in the steps of their Lord? Taking all in all, these contradictions do not prevent them, Protestants as well as Catholics, from calling themselves Christians and even good, pious, devoted Christians, as long as they are consciously or unconsciously animated by the same spirit, that was burning in the son of the carpenter of Nazareth, an obscure village of Galilee, about two thousand years ago.
The same mode of reasoning holds good in the case of Mahâyânism, and it would be absurd to insist on the genuineness of Hînayânism at the expense of the former. Take for granted that the Mahâyâna school of Buddhism contains some elements absorbed from other Indian religio-philosophical systems; but what of it? Is not Christianity also an amalgamation, so to speak, of Jewish, Greek, Roman, Babylonian, Egyptian, and other pagan thoughts? In fact every healthy and energetic religion is historical, in the sense that, in the course of its development, it has adapted itself to the ever-changing environment, and has assimilated within itself various elements which appeared at first even threatening its own existence. In Christianity, this process of assimilation, adaptation, and modification has been going on from its very beginning. As the result, we see in the Christianity of to-day its original type so metamorphosed, so far as its outward appearance is concerned, that nobody would now take it for a faithful copy of the prototype.
Mahâyânism a Living Faith.
So with Mahâyânism. Whatever changes it has made during its historical evolution, its spirit and central ideas are all those of its founder. The question whether or not it is genuine, entirely depends on our interpretation of the term “genuine.” If we take it to mean the lifeless preservation of the original, we should say that Mahâyânism is not the genuine teaching of the Buddha, and we may add that Mahâyânists would be proud of the fact, because being a living religious force it would never condescend to be the corpse of a by-gone faith. The fossils, however faithfully preserved, are nothing but rigid inorganic substances from which life is forever departed. Mahâyânism is far from this; it is an ever-growing faith and ready in all times to cast off its old garments as soon as they are worn out. But its spirit originally inspired by the “Teacher of Men and Gods” (çâstadevamanuṣyânam) is most jealously guarded against pollution and degeneration. Therefore, as far as its spirit is concerned, there is no room left to doubt its genuineness; and those who desire to have a complete survey of Buddhism cannot ignore the significance of Mahâyânism.
It is naught but an idle talk to question the historical value of an organism, which is now full of vitality and active in all its functions, and to treat it like an archeological object, dug out from the depths of the earth, or like a piece of bric-à-brac, discovered in the ruins of an ancient royal palace. Mahâyânism is not an object of historical curiosity. Its vitality and activity concern us in our daily life. It is a great spiritual organism; its moral and religious forces are still exercising an enormous power over millions of souls; and its further development is sure to be a very valuable contribution to the world-progress of the religious consciousness. What does it matter, then, whether or not Mahâyânism is the genuine teaching of the Buddha?
Here is an instance of most flagrant contradictions present in our minds, but of which we are not conscious on account of our preconceived ideas. Christian critics vigorously insist on the genuineness of their own religion, which is no more than a hybrid, at least outwardly; but they want to condemn their rival religion as degenerated, because it went through various stages of development like theirs. It is of no practical use to trouble with this nonsensical question,—the question of the genuineness of Mahâyânism, which by the way is frequently raised by outsiders as well as by some unenlightened Buddhists themselves.
3. SOME MISSTATEMENTS ABOUT THE
MAHÂYÂNA DOCTRINES.
Before entering fully into the subject proper of this work, let us glance over some erroneous opinions about the Mahâyâna doctrines, which are held by some Western scholars, and naturally by all uninitiated readers, who are like the blind led by the blind. It may not be altogether a superfluous work to give them a passing review in this chapter and to show broadly what Mahâyânism is not.
Why Injustice is done to Buddhism.
The people who have had their thoughts and sentiments habitually trained by one particular set of religious dogmas, frequently misjudge the value of those thoughts that are strange and unfamiliar to them. We may call this class of people bigots or religious enthusiasts. They may have fine religious and moral sentiments as far as their own religious training goes; but, when examined from a broader point of view, they are to a great extent vitiated with prejudices, superstitions, and fanatical beliefs, which, since childhood, have been pumped into their receptive minds, before they were sufficiently developed and could form independent judgments. This fact so miserably spoils their purity of sentiment and obscures their transparency of intellect, that they are disqualified to perceive and appreciate whatever is good and true and beautiful in the so-called heathen religions. This is the main reason why those Christian missionaries are incapable of rightly understanding the spirit of religion generally—I mean, those missionaries who come to the East to substitute one set of superstitions for another.
This strong general indictment against the Christian missionaries, however, is by no means prompted by any partisan spirit. My desire, on the contrary, is to do justice to those thoughts and sentiments that have been working consciously or unconsciously in the human mind from time immemorial and shall work on till the day of the last judgment, if there ever be such a day. To see what these thoughts and sentiments are, which, by the way, constitute the kernel of every religion, we must without any reluctance throw off all the prejudices we are liable to cherish, though quite unknowingly; and keeping always in view what is most essential in the religious consciousness, we must not confound it with its accessories, which are doomed to die in the course of time.
Examples of Injustice.
As specimen of injustice done to the Mahâyâna Buddhism by Christian critics, we quote the following passages from Monier-William’s Buddhism, Waddell’s Buddhism in Tibet, and Samuel Beal’s Buddhism in China, all of which are representative works each in its own field.
Monier Monier-Williams.
Monier Monier-Williams is a well-known authority on Sanskrit literature, and his works in this department will long remain as a valuable contribution to human knowledge. But, unfortunately, as soon as he attempts to enter the domain of religious controversy, his intellect becomes piteously obscured by his preconceived ideas. He thinks, for instance, that the principal feature of Mahâyânism consists merely in amplifying the number of Bodhisattvas, who are contented, according to his view, with their “perpetual residence in the heavens, and quite willing to put off all desires for Buddhahood and Parinirvana.” (P. 190.)
This remark is so absurd that it will at once be rejected by any one who has a first-hand knowledge of the Mahâyâna system, as even unworthy of refutation, but Monier-Williams takes special pains to give to his characterisation of the Mahâyâna doctrine a show of rational explanation. “Of course,” says he, “men instinctively recoiled from utter self-annihilation, and so the Buddha’s followers ended in changing the true idea of Nirvana and converting it from a condition of non-existence into a state of lazy beatitude in celestial regions (!), while they encouraged all men—whether monks or laymen—to make a sense of dreamy bliss in Heaven (!), and not total extinction of life, the end of all their efforts.” (P. 156.)
This view of the Buddhist heaven as interpreted by Monier-Williams is nothing but the conception of the Christian heaven colored with paganism. Nothing is more foreign to Buddhists than this distinguished Sankritist’s interpretation of celestial existence. The life of devas (celestial beings) is just as much subject to the law of birth and death as that of men on earth. What consolation would there be for the Mahâyânists striving after the highest principle of existence, only to find themselves transmigrated to a celestial abode, that is also full of sorrows and sufferings? Always working for the welfare of their fellow-creatures, the Bodhisattvas never desire any earthly or heavenly happiness for themselves. Whatever merits, according to the law of karma, there be stored up for their good work, they do not have any wish to enjoy them by themselves, but they will have all these merits turned over (parivarta) to the interests of their fellow-beings. This is the ideal of Bodhisattvas, i.e., of the followers of Mahâyânism.
Beal.
Samuel Beal who is considered by Western scholars to be an authority on Chinese Buddhism, referring to the Mahâyâna conception of Dharmakâya,[6] says in his Buddhism in China (p. 156): “We can have little doubt, then, that from early days worship was offered by Buddhists at several spots, consecrated by the presence of the Teacher, to an invisible presence. This presence was formulated by the later Buddhists under the phrase, ‘the Body of the Law’, Dharmakâya.”
Then, alluding to Buddha’s instruction that says after his Parinirvana the Law given by him should be regarded as himself, Beal proceeds to say: “Here was the germ from which proceeded the idea or formula of an invisible presence: teaching and power of the Law (Dharma) represented the Dharmakâya or Law-Body of Buddha, present with the order, and fit for reverence.”
To interpret Dharmakâya as the Body of the Law is quite inadequate and misleading. To the Hînayânists, there is nothing beside the Tripitaka as the object of reverence, and, therefore, the notion of the Body of the Law has no meaning to them. The idea is distinctly Mahâyânistic, but Beal is not well informed about its real significance as understood by the Buddhists. The chief reason of his misinterpretation, as I judge, lies in his rendering dharma by “law”, while dharma here means “that which subsists,” or “that which maintains itself even when all the transient modes disappear,” in short, “being,” or “substance.” Dharmakâya, therefore, would be a sort of the Absolute, or Essence-Body of all things. This notion plays such an important rôle in Mahâyânism that an adequate knowledge of it is indispensable to understand the constitution of Mahâyânism as a religious system.
Waddell.
Let us state one more case of misrepresentation by Western scholars of the Mahâyâna Buddhism. Waddell, author of Buddhism in Tibet, referring to the point of divergence between the so-called Northern Buddhism and the Southern, says (pp. 10-11): “It was the theistic Mahâyâna doctrine which substituted, for the agnostic idealism and simple morality of Buddha, a speculative theistic system with a mysticism of sophistic nihilism in the background.”
And again: “This Mahâyâna [meaning Nâgârjuna’s Mâdhyamika school] was essentially a sophistic nihilism, or rather Parinirvana, while ceasing to be extinction of life, was converted a mystic state which admitted of no definition.”
It may not be wrong to call Mahâyânism a speculative theistic system in a wide sense, but it must be asked on what ground Waddell thinks that it has in its background “a mysticism of sophistic nihilism”. Could a religious system be called sophistry when it makes a close inquiry into the science of dialectics, in order to show how futile it is to seek salvation through the intellect alone? Could a religious system be called a nihilism when it endeavors to reach the highest reality which transcends the phenomenality of concrete individual existences? Could a doctrine be called nihilistic when it defines the absolute as neither void (çûnya) nor not-void (açûnya)?
I could cull some more passages from other Buddhist scholars of the West and show how far Mahâyânism has been made by them a subject of misrepresentation. But since this work is not a polemic, but devoted to a positive exposition of its basic doctrines, I refrain from so doing. Suffice it to state that one of the main causes of the injustice done to Buddhism by the Christian critics comes from their preconceptions, of which they may not be aware, but which all the more vitiate their “impartial” judgments.