In entrusting his disciples with the important duty of teaching mankind, Buddha, obeying the impulse of his universal charity, desires them to go all over the world and preach all the truth to all mortals. He distinctly charges them to announce openly and unreservedly all that they have heard from him. In these instructions the plan of Buddha is clearly laid down, and the features of the mission he assumes distinctly delineated. His object is to spread his doctrines all over the world and to bring all beings under his moral sway. He makes no distinction between man and man, nation and nation. Though belonging by birth to a high caste, he disregards at once those worldly barriers whereby men are separated from each other, and acknowledges no dignity but that which is conferred by virtue. Bold, indeed, was the step that he took in a country where the distinction of caste is so deeply rooted in the habits of the people, that all human efforts have, hitherto, proved abortive in destroying it. It has already been hinted in a foregoing note that Gaudama placed himself on a new ground, in opposition to the Brahminical doctrines. He, doubtless, cautiously avoided to wound directly the feelings of his antagonists; but, at the same time, he adroitly sowed the seed of a mighty revolution, that was to change, if left to grow freely, the face of the Indian peninsula. His doctrine bore two characteristics, that were to distinguish it essentially from that of his adversaries; it was popular and universal, whereas that of his opponents was wrapped up in a mysterious obscurity, and unfolded completely only to a privileged caste. Another great difference between the two systems is this: Buddha paid little attention to the dogmatical portion of religion, but laid the greatest stress on morals. The dogmas are few and little insisted on. He aimed at correcting the vices of the heart, but exerted himself little to redress the errors of the mind.
[10] In these new instructions delivered to the Rahans, Buddha gives them the power of receiving into the ranks of the assembly those of their converts who should prove foremost in understanding the law and observing its highest practices. He empowers them to confer on others the dignity of Rahans, and admit them to the various steps that lead to that uppermost one. To observe uniformity in the reception of candidates to the various orders, Buddha laid down a number of regulations embodied in the Kambawa, or book used as a sort of ritual on the days of admission of candidates to the dignity of Patzins and Rahans. The contents of this small but interesting work may be seen in the notice on the order of talapoins, or Buddhist monks, inserted at the end of this volume. That the reader may have now an idea of the general purpose and object of these regulations, I will sketch a slight outline of them. The candidate, who seeks for admission among the members of the order, has to appear before an assembly of Rahans, presided over by a dignitary. He must be provided with the dress of the order, and a patta or the pot of a mendicant. He is presented to the assembly by a Rahan, upon whom devolves the important duty of instructing him in all that regards the profession he is about to embrace, and lead him through the ordeal of the ceremony. He is solemnly interrogated before the assembly on the several defects and impediments which incapacitate an individual for admission into the order. On his declaring that he is free from such impediments, he is, with the consent of the assembled fathers, promoted to the rank of Patzin. But before he is allowed to take his place among his brethren, he is instructed in the four principal duties he will have to observe, and warned against the four capital sins, the commission of which would deprive him of his high and holy character, and cause his expulsion from the society.
It is supposed that the candidate, previous to his making application for obtaining the dignity of Rahan, has qualified himself by study and a good life for admittance among the perfect. By surrounding the admission of candidates into the ranks of the order with a display of ceremonies, the shrewd framer of these regulations intended to encircle the whole body with a halo of dignity and sacredness, and at the same time to provide, as far as human wisdom allows, against the reception of unworthy postulants.
Hitherto Buddha had reserved to himself alone the power of elevating hearers or converts to the dignity of Rahans; now he transfers to his disciples that power and bids them use it as they had seen him do, in behalf of those whom they deem worthy applicants. He has established a society, and striven to infuse into it all the elements necessary for keeping it up hereafter, and securing its existence and permanency. He sets up a kind of ecclesiastical hierarchy, which is to be perpetuated during the ages to come by the same means and power that brought it into existence.
Having put such a power into the hands of his disciples, Buddha very properly exhorts them to emulate him in his efforts to become perfect. He sets himself as a pattern of perfection, and bids them all imitate the examples he places before them. He shows briefly to them by what means he has attained the state of Arahatapho, and stimulates them to the adopting of similar means. The word Arahatapho is composed of two words—arahat, which means perfect, and pho or phola, as the orthography indicates, which means reward, merit. The state of Arahatapho is that in which a man enjoys the merits or reward of perfection, which he has reached by the practice of virtue, and particularly the acquirement of wisdom or knowledge of the highest points of the law. It is used often in opposition to the word Arahatamegata, which signifies the ways or roads leading to perfection.
[11] I have translated by lent the Burmese expression Watso, which is but the Pali term Wasa, Burmanised. The word "lent," which has been adopted, is designed to express not the real meaning of Wasa, but to convey to the reader's mind the idea of a time devoted to religious observances. Wasa means a season, but it is intended to designate the rainy season, which in those parts of the Peninsula where Buddha was residing begins in July and ends in November. During that period the communications between villages and towns are difficult, if not impossible. The religious mendicants were allowed in former times, very likely from the very days of Buddha, to retire into the houses of friends and supporters, from which they went forth occasionally begging their food. In the beginning, those who were admitted in the society did not live in community, as was afterwards done in those countries where Buddhism has been of a long time in a flourishing condition. They were allowed to withdraw into solitude, and lead an ascetic life, or to travel from one place to another to preach the law and make converts. This work could not be well done during the rainy season. Hence the disciples, while as yet few in number, gathered round their master during that period to hear instructions from him, and practise virtue under his immediate superintendence. They lived with him during all the time the rainy season lasted. This was called to spend the season. In the course of this Legend, the same expression is often met with. It is said of Buddha that he spent a season in such a place, another in another place, to indicate that he stayed in one place during the rainy season, which precluded the possibility of doing the duties of an itinerant preacher.
When the religious order became regularly constituted, and the basis it was to stand on was fairly laid down, the ever-increasing number of members made them feel the want of secluded places where they could live in community, and at the same time quite retired from the world. Houses or monasteries were erected for receiving the pious Rahans. The inmates of those dwellings lived under the direction of a superior, devoting their time to study, meditation, and the observances of the law. They were allowed to go out in the morning very early, to beg and collect the food they wanted for the day. Such is the state the religious are living in up to our own time in Burmah, Ceylon, Thibet, Siam, and in the other countries where Buddhism has been firmly established.
The religious season, or lent, lasts three months. It begins in the full moon of Watso (July) and ends at the full moon of Thadinkiout (October). The keeping of the season in Burmah is as follows:—On the days of the new and full moon crowds of people resort to the pagodas, carrying offerings of flowers, small candles, oil, &c. A great many are found to spend the night in the bungalows erected, chiefly for that purpose, in their immediate vicinity. Women occupy bungalows separated from those of men. It must be admitted that there, as in churches, they far outnumber the men. On such occasions, religion appears to be rather the pretext than the real object of such assemblies. With the exception of old men and women, who are heard to converse on religious topics, and repeat some parts of the law, or recite some praises in honour of Buddha, the others seem to care very little for religion. The younger portion of the weaker sex freely indulge in the pleasure of conversation. It is quite a treat to them to have such a fine opportunity of giving full scope to their talkative powers. During that season the pious faithful are charitably inclined to bestow alms on the Rahans. All the necessaries of life pour with abundance and profusion into the monasteries. Besides alms-giving and resorting to the pagodas, some fervent laymen practise abstinence and fasting to a certain extent; these, however, are but few. During that period the Buddhist recluses are often invited to go to certain places, prepared for the purpose, to preach the law to and receive alms from crowds of hearers who are gathered thither on such occasions. Talapoins are generally seated on an elevated platform, facing the congregation; they keep their large fans before the face through modesty, to save themselves from the danger of looking on some tempting object. They repeat in chorus certain passages of the life of Buddha, enumerate the five great precepts and other observances of the law. The whole preaching generally goes on in Pali, that is to say, in a language unknown to the congregation. When they have done their duty they withdraw, followed by a great number of their disciples, carrying back to the monasteries all the offerings made by the faithful. It happens also, although but seldom in our days, that some fervent recluses withdraw during the whole or a part of the lent season into solitary places, living by themselves, and devoting all their time to reading the books of the law, and meditating on the most important points and maxims of religion.
[12] The remarks of the Burmese translator afford me an opportunity of explaining one of the leading tenets of the Buddhistic creed. All beings in this world are subjected to the double influence of their merits and demerits. The good influence predominates when the sum of merits surpasses that of demerits, and it is superseded by the latter when the contrary takes place. This principle once admitted, Buddhists explain the good or evil that befalls every individual in every conceivable state of existence. Is a man dead, he is attended on his way to another state of being both by his merits and demerits, who, like two inseparable companions, follow him whithersoever he goes. Should the sum of demerits prove greater, he is forced into hell, or into some other state of punishment, to bear sufferings proportionately to his offences, until he has fully paid off his debt, or, to speak the language of Buddhists, until the sum of his demerits be quite exhausted. If, on the contrary, at the moment of his death the influence of merits be the strongest, he is directed into a state of happiness, pleasure, and enjoyment, say in one of the seats of Nats or Brahmas, and remains there as long as the action of the good influence lasts. When it is over he comes again into the abode of man, or in a state of probation, when he has to labour anew for amassing new and greater merits, that will hereafter entitle him to a higher reward than the one he had previously enjoyed. From the foregoing observations it is evident that the idea of a Supreme Being rewarding the good and punishing the wicked is carefully excluded, and all foreign interference on this subject entirely done away with. Another conclusion flowing from the same source is, that there is no eternity of reward or punishment, but both last for a longer or shorter period, in proportion to the sum of merits and demerits, and consequently to the power of each influence respectively.
It may be asked what becomes of the sum of demerits and its consequent evil influence, whilst the superior good influence prevails? The sum of demerits remains all the while entire and undiminished; the operation of the evil influence is suspended, and has no power whatever, its own being checked by a greater one. But the sum of merits being exhausted, and its inherent action at an end, the opposite one is set at liberty, and acts on the individual proportionately to its own strength, and lasts until it is all exhausted. As man can never be without some merits or demerits, good or bad deeds, he must be either in a state of reward or punishment; this is, if I may say so, the mainspring that moves all beings into the whirlpool of countless existences, wherein they meet happiness or unhappiness according to their deserts. The being that tends strongly and perseveringly through his various existences towards perfection, weakens gradually, and finally destroys in himself the law of demerits; he ascends steadily the steps of the ladder of perfection by the practice of the highest virtues. Having reached its summit, there is no more reason for his going through other existences, and he steps at once into the state of Neibban.