III. Buddhism In Japan.
In the last Chapter we sketched in outline the life and teaching of Gautama Buddha; omitting the many fanciful legends that have gathered round his name, and confining ourselves to what would be accepted by Buddhists generally. Of the long period that divides the death of Sakya-muni from the introduction of Buddhism into Japan about 550 a.d., it is no part of our purpose to treat in detail. But enough must be said to connect in some intelligible way these two events.
After the death of Gautama, his disciples are said to have gathered together, and recited all that they remembered of his teaching, arranging it in three divisions. This was the origin of the sacred books known as the Tripitaca, i.e. the “three baskets,” the “three receptacles.” The first of these—consisting of sayings, aphorisms, parables, &c., attributed to Buddha, together with his first sermon addressed to the ascetics, (the “Wheel of the Law,”)—is known as the Sutra or “Canon;” the second is called the Vinaya or “Book of Discipline;” and the third, the Abhidharma, [pg 048] i.e. the “Book of Metaphysics,” the “Further Doctrine.” Of the three books, the Sutra, being mainly ethical, would have a more general application than the other two; while the Vinaya would be chiefly applicable to the Brotherhood, and the Abhidharma concerned with abstruse philosophical dissertations. The Tripitaca, of which the Buddhists of Ceylon are the custodians, are written in Pali, an early modification of Sanskrit, and the sacred language of Buddhism; and they are, undoubtedly, the oldest and purest of the numerous Buddhist scriptures. The Sutra, in particular, is believed to be a faithful record of the actual teaching of Gautama. At the same time, it must be remembered that for some centuries after Sakya-muni's death, there is no proof of the existence of any written Canon; the probability being that his teaching was, for the most part, transmitted orally from generation to generation, and that it underwent in the process considerable alteration and addition.
With regard to the history of Buddhism, from the time of its founder's death until the middle of the third century b.c., we are practically without information. It appears, however, that parties and schools were already beginning to be formed. But about 260 b.c., India, from being divided into a number of petty kingdoms, became almost wholly united under the rule of one Asoka. Asoka's [pg 049] grandfather—the founder of the empire that was soon to assume such vast proportions—had revenged himself for the contempt in which, for his low birth, he was held by the Brahmans, by patronizing Buddhism; and Asoka, in turn, bestowed upon it all possible support. He made Buddhism the state religion, founded an immense number of monasteries, and sent forth missionaries in all directions. China was one of the countries visited; while a mission to Ceylon, in which Mahendra, Asoka's own son, took a prominent part, resulted in the conversion of the whole island.
Shortly, however, after Asoka's death, his empire collapsed, and Buddhism never afterwards exerted the same influence in India; though it remained widely prevalent until the eighth century a.d., and it was not until four centuries later that it became practically extinct. The Brahmans now regained their former ascendency; declared Gautama to be an “avatar”—or incarnation—of their god Vishnu; proceeded to incorporate into their own creed some of the most popular features of the Buddhist system; and then entered upon a destruction of the monasteries, and a severe persecution of all Buddhists living in India. But, as in the history of the Christian Church, persecution only resulted in the Gospel being afforded a wider area, so was it now with Buddhism. “They that were scattered abroad went everywhere, [pg 050] preaching the word.” Among other countries to which the doctrine of Sakya-muni penetrated was Cashmere, whose king, Kanishka, a contemporary of Christ, extended to it his enthusiastic support.
At this point was reached an important crisis in the history of Buddhism. Already controversies about discipline and various minor questions had called into existence several different schools; but now a breach occurred, of such magnitude and destined to prove so lasting in its results, as to often have suggested comparison with the schism between Western and Eastern Christendom. A council was held under king Kanishka, which the Ceylon Buddhists refused to recognize; and from that time Buddhism has been divided into two main branches, known as the Mahayana and Hinayana,—the “Greater and Lesser Vehicles.” The division thus brought about became, to a great extent, a geographical one; the Hinayana having its home in Ceylon, and, somewhat less exclusively, in Burmah and Siam, while the schools of the Mahayana predominate in Cashmere, Thibet, China and Japan.
Let us glance, for a moment, at their respective characteristics. The Hinayana and the Mahayana, then, are the names given to two great systems, or “schools of thought,” which offer to “carry” or “convey” their followers to the rest of Nirvana.
Of the two, the Hinayana, or Lesser Conveyance, presents a much closer resemblance to early Buddhism. The distinguishing features of the Hinayana may be declared to be its adherence to the strict morality of primitive Buddhism, its greater simplicity of worship, its smaller Canon of scripture, and the fact that it appeals rather to the comparatively few, to those, that is to say, who are able and willing to make the surrender it requires. Whereas, in the Mahayana, or Greater Vehicle, we see a system characterized by that increased ease and laxity, which too often accompany a season of repose and the cessation of the enthusiasm that attends the establishment of a new movement. The chief features of the Mahayana may be pronounced to be its less exacting standard of practical morality, its willingness to descend to the level of the multitude, its subtle metaphysical distinctions, its meditative inactivity, its elaborate ceremonial, and its more extensive Canon of scripture.
We are now, at last, in a position to examine the history of Japanese Buddhism. If an apology seems needed for the length of our digression, I can only say that it appeared to me necessary for any profitable treatment of our subject. We have already seen how, as early as 250 b.c., China was visited by Buddhist missionaries from India. These are said to have been eighteen in number; [pg 052] and their effigies may be seen in many a Chinese temple, where they are held in great veneration. In the first century a.d., Buddhism in China began to receive imperial patronage; some of its books being about the same time translated into the language of the country. The spirit of accommodation and adaptation, which has always formed so conspicuous a feature of Buddhism, manifested itself now in an association with Taouism which has continued ever since.
552 a.d. is the date assigned to the introduction of Buddhism into Japan, by way of Korea. At first, it appears to have made little progress, until the diplomatic action of one of its clergy brought it into favour with the Court. Prostrating himself one day, before the little son of the Mikado, the priest declared that he recognized in him the re-incarnation of one of the disciples of Buddha, and one who was destined to effect a great spiritual work in Japan. The Mikado was prevailed upon to confide the boy's education to the Buddhist priests; with the result that, when he grew up, he supported their cause with such zeal as to cause him to be sometimes spoken of as the “Constantine of Japanese Buddhism.” Shotoku Taishi—for such was his name—acted for some time as regent, but never himself ascended the throne.
There is no doubt that the progress of Buddhism in Japan was largely facilitated by the adoption of [pg 053] tactics, which had been successfully employed in dealing with the barbarous tribes of India, and—as we have just noticed,—with China also. Indeed, its readiness to adapt itself to the circumstances, instincts, and prejudices of the people, with whom it has to do, is, as has already been implied, one of the most powerful and most striking peculiarities of Buddhism. In Japan, the Shinto demi-gods were Buddhaized, and declared to be manifestations of Gautama; while practices borrowed from the ancient national creed were introduced into the Buddhist ceremonial. In the eighth century, we find orders issued for the erection of two temples and a pagoda in every province; until, about the twelfth century, the two religions became associated in the manner indicated in our first chapter,—Buddhist and Shinto clergy officiating by turns in the same buildings, and the Shinto temples becoming filled with images, alike of their own demi-gods, and of Buddha and his companions. This state of things continued until 1868, when the Shinto cult was chosen to receive the exclusive recognition of the State, many of the Buddhist monasteries at the same time suffering spoliation. Within the last few years, however, Buddhism has been making strenuous efforts to recover its former power and position, and there is little doubt that it still exerts a real influence in Japan; while the collapse of Shintoism is, as certainly, a matter of no distant [pg 054] time. At Tokio, the capital, where the number of temples is enormous, the proportion of Buddhist to Shinto is in the ratio of ten to one; and on several occasions during my stay in Japan I noticed handsome new Buddhist temples in course of erection, or old ones being redecorated and restored. On the other hand, numbers are closed, or falling to pieces, for want of funds to maintain them.
At the present time, there are some twelve or more principal Buddhist sects in Japan, several of these being subdivided. The distinction between the various schools is much more closely preserved than in China; and, at least in the larger cities, each sect will be found represented by a temple of its own. The difference between the schools consists not only in the varied attitudes adopted towards some controverted question, but frequently also in the degrees of importance attached to some point which is held by all in common. For, as cannot be too emphatically stated, Buddhism is a many-sided religion.[16] The following extract from Sir Monier Williams' Buddhism, for instance, [pg 055] draws attention to the variety of aspects, from which it may, and indeed needs to be regarded by the student.
“In different places and at different times, its teaching has become both negative and positive, agnostic and gnostic. It passes from apparent atheism and materialism to theism, polytheism, and spiritualism. It is, under one aspect, mere pessimism; under another, pure philanthropy; under another, monastic communion; under another, high morality; under another, a variety of materialistic philosophy; under another, simple demonology; under another, a mere farrago of superstitions, including necromancy, witchcraft, idolatry, and fetishism. In some form or other it may be held with almost any religion, and embraces something from almost every creed.”
To the same effect writes Dr. Eitel in his Lectures on Buddhism (pp. 1-2): “Buddhism is a system of vast magnitude, for it comprises the earliest gropings after science throughout those various branches of knowledge which our Western nations have long been accustomed to divide for separate study. It embodies in one living structure grand and peculiar views of physical science, refined and subtle theorems on abstract metaphysics, an edifice of fanciful mysticism, a most elaborate and far-reaching system of practical morality, and finally a church organization as broad in its principles [pg 056] and as finely wrought in its most intricate network as any in the world.”
It would hardly be worth while to attempt any detailed description of the many Buddhist sects represented in Japan. To observe the main characteristics of the principal ones, and their points of difference from one another, will be amply sufficient for our purpose. The greater number of the schools were introduced from China, but a few are Japanese developments.
Let us take, first of all, the schools of the Hinayana, or Minor Vehicle, which, as we should expect, is not extensively represented in Japan. The Hinayana is represented by four philosophical schools, in two of which the materialistic element predominates, and in the two other the idealistic; while eschatological questions afford further ground for difference. The points in dispute between these philosophical schools of Buddhism are altogether so subtle and abstruse as to be extremely difficult of comprehension to any not thoroughly versed in such distinctions. Of the four sects referred to, one, called the Kusha, has for its characteristic the fact that it bases its teaching on the Abhidharma Pitaca.
To the Minor Vehicle belongs the curious system known as the “Holy Path.” This has been described as a “debtor and creditor account kept with divine justice.” Much less common than in China, the system of the “Holy Path” is yet widely [pg 057] practised in Japan. Elaborate tables are drawn up, containing a list of all good and bad actions it is possible to perform, with the numbers added which each counts on the side of merit or demerit. The numbers range from one to a hundred, or even more; and the tables afford an insight into the relative importance in which all kinds of actions present themselves to the Oriental mind. He who would tread life's journey along the Holy Path must, at least, aim at setting off his bad deeds by a corresponding number of good acts of equal value. At the end of each year, the account is balanced, and the overplus or deficit is transferred to the succeeding one. That such a system is liable to the gravest abuse, especially in the case of the more ignorant, is obvious; though, when conscientiously practised, it need not be supposed to be unproductive of good.[17]
At present we have made no mention of the Madhyameka, or Middle Vehicle, which, as its name implies, occupies an intermediate place between the Greater and Lesser Conveyances. A compromise between these two great systems, the Madhyameka may be said to be characterized by a marked moderation, i.e. between an excessive strictness, on the one hand, and a too great liberty on the other. But though it is thus a faithful [pg 058] exponent of Sakya-muni's original doctrine, the Madhyameka has never attracted any extensive following. It is represented in Japan by the sect called the Sanron.
We pass on to examine the schools of the Greater Vehicle. In the same way that the Kusha sect regards as its chief authority the Abhidharma Pitaca, there are two schools belonging to the Greater Vehicle, which base their teaching on the Sutra and Vinaya Pitacas respectively. The Kagon make the parables and sayings of Buddha contained in the Sutra their especial study; while the Ritzu, as adhering to the more ascetic side of Buddhism, have for their favourite book the Vinaya, or “Discipline.”
The Dhyana or Zen sect is a Chinese school with numerous sub-divisions. Its distinguishing feature is the prominence it assigns to the life of contemplation. Mysticism is represented by the Shingon, the Mantra school of India transferred through China to Japan; and also by the Tendai, so called from a mountain in China, where the head-quarters of the sect are situated. The temples of the Shingon may usually be recognized by the two guardian figures at the entrance, with open and shut mouths, suggesting the mystic syllable A-UM. A peculiarity of both of these sects is the use of the prayer-wheels and cylinders so common in Thibet.
An element of mysticism also pervades the influential Hokkai sect, a Japanese offshoot of the Tendai, founded in the thirteenth century by a priest named Nichiren, who is said to have been born supernaturally of a virgin mother. The Hokkai are most jealously attached to their own ritual, and to other observances peculiar to themselves; and, inheriting the disposition attributed to their founder, exhibit a narrowness and intolerance rarely met with in Japan. Their characteristic may be said to consist in an emotional fanaticism; and a visitor to one of their temples will generally find a number of devotees,—who thus remain engaged for hours at a time,—chanting the invocation of the sect, “Adoration to the Lotus of the Law,” to a deafening accompaniment of drums.
Two sects only now remain, but these by no means the least interesting or least popular: the Jodo and the Shin-Jodo (i.e. the New-Jodo). The distinguishing features of these sects,—which also find a place in the system of the Hokkai,—are their acknowledgement of the need of external aid, and their doctrine of the Western Paradise, presided over by Amitabha Buddha. How marked a departure from the original teaching of Sakya-muni, as observed by us, these schools present is sufficiently obvious; nevertheless, it is alleged that the revelation of the Paradise in the West was first made by Buddha himself to one of his principal [pg 060] disciples. In the distant West is said to dwell one named Amida, or Amitabha, that is to say “Illimitable Light.” Immortal himself, immortal also and freed from all the trammels of transmigration are the vast multitudes of men[18] who inhabit the boundless regions which he rules. In that “Pure Land,”[19] that “Undefiled Ground,” everything beautiful and enchanting has a place, neither is pain or sorrow known; and thither nought that is evil or that defileth can come. Whosoever would attain to this heavenly country must rely, most of all, on faithful invocation of the name of Amida; he having, as is recorded, made a vow that he would only accept Buddhahood on condition that salvation should be placed within reach of all sincerely desirous of achieving it. Such is the doctrine of the Western Paradise, some of the descriptions of which read almost like echoes of the last chapters of the Bible. Unknown to the Buddhism of Ceylon, Siam, and Burmah, it can be traced back as far as the second century a.d., when it was certainly known in Cashmere, though it was not until three centuries later that it began to spread widely over Northern Buddhism. But the whole question of its origin remains wrapped in obscurity. At the present day, the devotion to Amida is very widely [pg 061] practised in Japan, and it is extremely popular. No doubt, the more educated and intellectual Buddhist,—and the distinction thus suggested needs constantly to be insisted on,—would explain the Paradise of the West as being a mere allegory, and regard Amitabha, as he was originally conceived to be, as merely an ideal personification of boundless light. But to the people generally the Undefiled Ground and its presiding deity are actual, literal, realities.
Kiyomizu-Dera, Kyoto.
We have said that the two sects in which the doctrine of the Western Paradise appears in greatest prominence are called the Jodo and Shin-Jodo. The former of these is Chinese in origin, but was established in Japan about 1200 a.d. by a priest, Enko Daishi by name, who was also a member of the imperial family. The head-quarters of this sect are at Kyoto, where the magnificent monastery of Chion-in forms one of the principal sights of that most interesting of Japanese cities. But of all the temples of Japan, those of the New-Jodo (or Monto) sect are at once the most handsome, the most frequented, and the most attractive to the European traveller. Everything here, too, is of a dignified and stately character; there is a striking absence of the tawdry and the puerile. Founded in the year 1262, this sect is, at the present day, foremost in learning, influence, and activity. Another purely Japanese development, it is—owing to differences [pg 062] about “church government”—composed of two sub-divisions, the Nishi-Hongwanji and the Higashi-Hongwanji, or the Eastern and Western Divisions of the True Petition,—the reference being to the vow of Amida. In most of the larger towns, handsome temples of either branch are to be found, situated usually in the poorer districts.
It is in the temples of the Shin-Jodo that the remarkable similarity, of which every one has heard, between the Buddhist ceremonial and that of the Roman Church is most conspicuous. Nowhere, perhaps, did the resemblance in question,—to which I shall have occasion to refer again,—impress me more forcibly than it did in the New-Jodo temple at Nagasaki, at the first Buddhist service at which I was ever present. The day of our visit chanced to be the founder's anniversary, and from a raised lectern in the chancel, a venerable priest, of benign countenance,—wearing a rich vestment not unlike a dalmatic, and a cap resembling a biretta,—was recounting to a congregation, composed chiefly of women, old men, and children, the virtues of their deceased benefactor. Presently, the sermon came to an end, and the colloquial delivery of the discourse was changed for the monotone of a litany recitation: the people answering with ready response, and many of them employing the aid of their rosaries. The fragrance of incense filled the air; tapers and flowers adorned the altar, above [pg 063] which was the statue, not—as one entering by chance might almost have expected to see—of a Christian saint, but of some manifestation of Gautama Buddha. Despite, however, its elaborate ritual, the Shin-Jodo sect has been called the “Protestantism of Japan;” the reason being that it sanctions the marriage of its clergy, approves the reading of the scriptures in the “vulgar tongue,” permits a wider freedom in respect to food and drink, and affords other indications of a “reforming spirit.” The priesthood in this sect is, practically, a hereditary office.
In the Great Indian Religions of the late Mr. Bettany, there is given a summary of the Shin-Jodo Belief, in the words of one of its principal teachers. I will take the liberty of re-quoting it here. “Rejecting all religious austerities and other action, giving up all idea of self-power, we rely upon Amida Buddha with the whole heart for our salvation in the future life, which is the most important thing: believing that at the moment of putting our faith in Amida Buddha our salvation is settled. From that moment invocation of his name is observed as an expression of gratitude and thankfulness for Buddha's mercy. Moreover, being thankful for the reception of this doctrine from the founder and succeeding chief priests whose teachings were so benevolent, and as welcome as light in a dark night, we must also keep the laws which [pg 064] are fixed for our duty during our whole life.” The mutual relation of faith and works is especially to be noticed; and indeed the strikingly evangelical character of the whole Confession.
Statues of Kwannon, San-Ju-San-Gen-Do.
Vast, however, as is the power attributed to Amitabha, and great as is the merit to be acquired by the invocation of his name, there is found in the temples in which he is worshipped an image which receives even more veneration than his. That colossal female effigy, with the many heads and countless hands, before which a number of votaries, composed largely of women, are kneeling in prayer, is meant to represent the mighty Avalokitesvara, or—to substitute for the Sanskrit the less formidable titles by which she is known in China and Japan,—the all-powerful Kwanyin or Kwannon. Here, again, we are confronted with a devotion the origin of which is wrapped in uncertainty, but which, closely connected with the doctrine of the Western Paradise, seems to have arisen some three centuries after the commencement of our era. At the present day, it is spread extensively over Thibet, Mongolia, China, and Japan; but it is unknown to the countries of Southern Buddhism. With regard to the meaning of this great image before us, Kwannon is commonly explained to be the reflex or spiritual son of Amitabha Buddha, sent by him to earth to preside on earth over the Buddhist faith, and appearing, at [pg 065] first in male and subsequently in female shape. But the probability is that the various personages, with whom Kwannon is supposed to be identified, had merely a fictitious existence; and that in her statues, we see simply an apotheosis of Mercy, an allegorical Mater Misericordiae, whose many eyes and hands are intended to signify the unremitting vigilance and the untiring energy with which she ministers to all sorrow and distress.[20]
The island of Pootau, off Ning-po, in the Chusan Archipelago, is the great centre of Kwannon worship; the most popular of the many legends concerning her associating her with this locality, and offering an explanation of her thousand heads and hands more clumsy even than is the manner of such myths. The island belongs to the Buddhist priesthood, and is a great resort of pilgrims. In Japan, the shrines and statues of Kwannon are to be met with everywhere: many of her images being of enormous size, richly gilt and beautifully wrought. Sometimes the statues are kept concealed from view, either on account of alleged [pg 066] miraculous properties, or for some other reason of special sanctity. The highly-venerated image, for instance, at the Asakusa temple, Tokio, is never shown; it is only two inches high, and is accredited with supernatural qualities. But of all the shrines of Kwannon, it may be doubted whether the impression created by any is greater than by her temple of San-ju-san-gen-do at Kyoto, where no less than 33,333 images of the goddess may be seen. Of these a thousand are gilded statues, five feet in height, and ranged in tiers along a vast gallery. The remaining effigies are depicted on the foreheads, hands and nimbi of the larger ones. The temple and its contents originated in the votive offering of a Mikado of the twelfth century for recovery from sickness.
The Altar of San-Ju-San-Gen-Do.