The punishments inflicted for the repeated transgressions of one or several points of the rule are, generally speaking, of a light nature, and seldom or never corporeal, as flagellations, &c. The superior sometimes orders a delinquent to walk through the courtyard during the heat of the day for a certain time, to carry to a distance a certain number of baskets-ful of sand, or a jug of water. Meekness, being a virtue most becoming a recluse, forbids the resort to penances of a more severe nature.
Humility, poverty, self-denial, and chastity are to him who has received the order of Patzin cardinal and most essential virtues, which he ought to practise on all occasions. He must, in all his exterior deportment, give unequivocal marks of his being always influenced by the spirit they inspire. The framer of the rules and regulations of the order seems to have had no other object in view than that of leading his brethren by various ways and means to the practice of these virtues, and inculcating on their minds the necessity of attending to the observances prescribed for this purpose. It is from this point we must view the statutes of the fraternity in order to understand them well and rightly, and appreciate them according to their worth and merit. We would indeed form a very erroneous opinion of institutions of past ages if we were to examine them, to praise or blame them, without a due regard being paid to the spirit that guided the legislator, and to the object he aimed at when he laid them down. Our own ideas, customs, manners, and education will often dispose us to disapprove at first of institutions made in former ages, amongst nations differing from us in all respects, under the pretext that they are not such as we would have them to be now, making unawares our own prejudices the standard whereby to measure the merit or demerit of all that has been established previously to our own times. The institutions of the middle ages, a celebrated modern historian has said, are intelligible to him that has entered into the spirit of those days, and who thinks, feels, and believes as did the people of those bygone centuries. This observation holds good to a certain extent, and, mutatis mutandis, in respect to Buddhistic institutions. The whole religious system must be understood, the object which the founder of the order had in view ought to be distinctly remarked and always borne in mind, ere we presume to pronounce upon the fitness or unfitness of the means he has employed for obtaining it.
For humility’s sake every Talapoin is bound to shave every part of his body. In complying with this regulation he must consider that the hairs that are shaved off are useless things, serving merely for the purposes of vanity, and he ought to be as unconcerned about them as a great mountain which has been cleared of the trees on its summit. Influenced by the same spirit, the religious must always walk barefooted, except in case of his labouring under some infirmity, or for some other good reason; he is then allowed to use a certain kind of plain and unornamented slipper, the shape, colour, and dimensions of which are carefully prescribed by the rule. When the Rahans travel from one place to another, they are allowed to carry with them the broad fan, made of palm-leaves, and a common paper umbrella to protect their bare head from the inclemency of the weather, or screen it from the heat of the sun. Their dress, consisting, as above mentioned, of three parts, is as plain as possible. According to the Patimauk, each separate part must be made of rags picked up here and there, and sewed together by themselves. This regulation, though disregarded by many, is to a certain extent observed by the greater number, but in a manner rather contrary to the spirit, if not to the letter, of the rule. On their receiving from benefactors a piece of silk or cotton, they cut it into several small square parts, which they afterwards contrive to have stitched in the best way they can, so as to make their vestments according to the prescription of the statutes. The vestment ought to be of one colour, yellow in those countries in which Mahometanism does not prevail. The yellow colour is a mark of mourning, as the black is amongst most of the nations of Europe.
Seven articles are considered as essential to every member of the holy family, viz., the kowot, thin-bain, dugout (the three pieces constituting his vestment), a girdle, a patta, a small hatchet, a needle, and a small apparatus for straining the water he drinks. The entire number of articles he is permitted to use and possess amounts to sixty. They are all plain, common, almost valueless, offering no incentive to cupidity and leaving him who is only possessed of them in the humble state of strict poverty.
The possession of temporal goods is strictly forbidden to the Rahans, as calculated to hinder them from meditating upon the law and attending to the various duties of the profession. Nothing indeed opposes a stronger barrier to the attainment of the perfect abnegation of self and a thorough contempt for material things, than the possession of worldly property. Hence a true Rahan has no object which he can, properly speaking, call his own. The kiaong wherein he lives has been built by benefactors, and is supplied by them with all that is necessary or useful to him. Food and raiment are procured for him without his having to feel concerned about them. The pious liberality of his supporters assiduously provides for his wants. But it is expected that he shall never concern himself with worldly business or transactions, of whatever nature they may be. He can neither labour, plant, traffic, nor do anything with the intent of deriving profit therefrom. Agreeably to the maxim, “Sufficient to the day is the evil thereof,” the Rahan cannot make any stores for the time to come. He must trust in the never-failing generosity and ever-watchful attention of his supporters for his daily wants. Now, let it be said to the praise of the Buddhists, that he is seldom disappointed in the reliance he places on them.
That he may be more effectually debarred from a too easy and frequent use of the things of first necessity, a Talapoin is bound to go through a tedious ceremony, called Akat, or presentation, before he can lawfully touch anything. When he has occasion for food, drink, or anything else, he turns to his disciples and tells them to do what is lawful. Whereupon one of them, or several, as circumstances may require, rises from his place, and, taking the thing or things he wants with both hands, approaches him respectfully, and presents to him the articles, saying, This is lawful. Then the Rahan takes the things into his own hands, and uses them or lays them by, as may suit his convenience. When a thing is presented, the disciple must be at a distance of some cubits, otherwise the recluse is guilty of a sin; and if what he receives is food, he commits as many sins as he eats mouthfuls. Gold and silver being the two greatest feeders of covetousness, the rule forbids the Phongyies to touch them, and a fortiori to have them. But on this point, however, human covetousness has broken through the strong barriers the framer of the statutes has wisely devised for effectually protecting recluses from its dangerous allurement. Gold and silver are not indeed touched by the pious devotees, but the precious and dazzling metals are conventionally handed to the disciples, who put them into the box of the superior, who, whilst bowing obsequiously to the letter of the rule, disregards its spirit. Sometimes an innocent ruse is resorted to by a greedy religious for silencing the remorse of his conscience; he covers his hands with a handkerchief, and without scruple receives the sum that is offered to him. It would be unfair to pass a general and sweeping sentence of condemnation for covetousness upon all the members of the fraternity. There are some whose hands have not been polluted by the handling of money, and whose hearts have always been, we may say, strangers to the cravings of the auri sacra fames; but it cannot be denied that many among them are insatiable in their lust for riches, and not unfrequently ask for them.
No Rahan can ever ask for anything; he is allowed to receive what is spontaneously offered to him. In this point too the spirit of the rule is frequently done away with. The recluse will not ask an object he covets (I beg his pardon for making use of such a term) in direct words; but by some indirect means or circuitous ways he will give significantly to understand that the possession of such an object is much needed by him, and that the offering of it would be a source of great merits to the donor. In this manner he moves the heart of his visitor, and soon kindles in his breast a desire to present the thing, almost as eager as his own is to receive it.
Celibacy is strictly enjoined on every professed member of the society. On the day of his reception he is solemnly warned by the instructor never to do anything contrary to that most essential virtue. The founder of the order and the framer of its statutes has entered, on this subject, into the most minute details, and prescribed a multitude of regulations tending to fortify the Rahans in the accomplishment of the solemn vow they have made, and to remove from them all occasions of sin, even the most distant. We must give him credit for an uncommon acquaintance with the weakness of human nature, as well as with the violence of the fiercest passion of the heart, since he has laboured so much to strengthen and uphold the former, and bridle the latter by every means his anxious mind could devise. He was deeply read in the secrets of the human heart, and knew well that the surest tactics for carrying on successfully the warfare between the spirit and the flesh consist in rather avoiding carefully the encounter of the enemy, and skilfully manœuvring at a distance from him, than in boldly encountering him in the open field. Hence the repeated injunctions to shun all the occasions of sin.
The Phongyies are forbidden to stay under the same roof, or to travel in the same carriage and boat, with women; they cannot receive anything from their hands. To such a height are precautions carried that the religious are not permitted to touch the clothes of a woman, or caress a female child, however young, or even handle a female animal.[59]
When visited in their dwellings by women, who resort thither for the purpose of making offerings, or listening to the recital of a few passages of the sacred books, they must remain at a great distance from them, and be surrounded by some of their disciples. The Phongyies are to look upon the old ones as mothers and upon the young as sisters. The conversation must be as short as decency allows, and no useless or light expressions be ever uttered. On the festival days, when crowds of people, men and women, go to the kiaongs to hear the tara, or some parts of the law repeated, the Rahans, arrayed in front of the congregation, keep their fans before their faces all the while, lest their eyes should meet with dangerous and tempting objects. Much greater precautions are still required in their intercourse with the Rahanesses, a sort of female recluses, whose institute is greatly on its decline in almost all parts of Burmah. For better securing the observance of continence, a Phongyie never walks out of his monastery, or enters a private dwelling, without being attended by a few disciples. Popular opinion is inflexible and inexorable on the point of celibacy, which is considered essential to every one that has a pretension to be called a Rahan. The people can never be brought to look upon any person as a priest or minister of religion unless he live in that state. Any infringement of this most essential regulation on the part of a Rahan is visited with an immediate punishment. The people of the place assemble at the kiaong of the offender, sometimes driving him out with stones. He is stripped of his clothes; and often public punishment, even that of death, is inflicted upon him by order of government. The poor wretch is looked upon as an outcast, and the woman whom he has seduced shares in his shame, confusion, and disgrace. Such an extraordinary opinion, so deeply rooted in the mind of a people rather noted for the licentiousness of their manners, certainly deserves the attention of every diligent observer of human nature. Whence has originated among corrupted and half-civilised men such a high respect and profound esteem for so exalted a virtue? Why is its rigorous practice deemed essential to those who professedly tend to an uncommon degree of perfection? Owing partly to the weight of public opinion, and partly to some other reasons, the law of celibacy, externally at least, is observed with a great scrupulosity, and a breach of it is a rare occurrence. As the rule, in this respect, binds the Phongyie only as long as he remains in the profession, he who feels his moral strength unable to cope successfully with the sting of passion prefers leaving the fraternity and returning to a secular life, when he can safely put an end, by a lawful alliance, to the internal strife, rather than expose himself to a transgression which is to entail upon him consequences so disgraceful.