And here observe that, notwithstanding the stigma attached to unmarried women in India, Gautama in the end permitted an Order of Nuns (Pāli Bhikkhunī) and female novices (Sāmaṇerī, [p. 47]). The Ćulla-vagga (X. I. 3) relates how women were indebted to the intercession of a monk, Gautama’s cousin Ānanda, for permission to form an Order, and how Mahā-prajāpatī, the Buddha’s nurse ([p. 24]), became the first nun; yet when Ānanda first asked: ‘How are we monks to behave when we see women?’ Gautama replied: ‘Don’t see them.’ ‘But if we should see them, what are we to do?’ ‘Don’t speak to them.’ ‘But if they speak to us, what then?’ ‘Let your thoughts be fixed in deep meditation’ (Sati upaṭṭhāpetabbā. Mahā-parin° V. 23).
Clearly the Buddha was originally a misogynist as well as a misogamist, and wished his followers to be misogynists also. Even when he had been induced to admit the justice of the plea for women’s rights, he placed his nuns under the direction of monks. They could only be admitted by monks, and were subject to the male Order in all matters of discipline. They were under eight special obligations, one of which was to rise up in the presence of a monk, even if a novice.
The Buddha’s exhortation to the first nun is noteworthy:—‘Whatsoever, O Gotamī (Mahā-prajāpatī), conduces to absence of passion, to absence of pride, to wishing for little and not for much, to seclusion and not to love of society, to earnest effort and not to indolence, to contentment and not to querulousness, verily that is the true doctrine’ (Ćulla-v° X. 5).
It was certainly a great gain for a woman when she was permitted to become a nun (or a Therī); for, as a nun, she could even attain Arhatship. This is clearly laid down in Ćulla-vagga X. 1. 3. 4. No woman, however, could attain to Buddhahood without being born as a man, so that it could scarcely be said that in Buddha there is ‘neither male nor female.’
Such, then, was the monachism which constituted the very pith and marrow of Buddhism. All truly enlightened disciples of Buddha were monks or nuns.
Let us not forget, however, that in practice Buddhism admitted lay-brothers, lay-sisters, married householders and working-men, as necessary adjuncts.
Yet they were only appendages. Of course the Buddha knew very well that it was not possible to enforce celibacy on all his followers. He knew that having prohibited his monks from making or taking money or holding property, they would have to depend on lay-associates and householders for food, clothing, and habitation, and that, if every layman were to become a monk, there would be no work done, no food produced, no children born, and in time no humanity—nay, no Buddhism—left.
Universal monkhood, in short, might have been a consummation to be aimed at in some Utopia; but was practically unattainable. In fact Gautama had to take the world as he found it, and the very idea of a world perpetuating itself—according to his own theory of a constant succession of birth, decay, and reproduction—implied that a youth, on reaching manhood, married, had children, worked and earned a livelihood for their support. He could not impose this burden on others.
Besides, the generality of people were in Gautama’s day what they are in India now-a-days—bent on early marriage, and resolute in working hard for a livelihood. Even Manu only enjoined celibacy on young religious students and on old men, though there were occasional cases of perpetual (naishṭhika) Brahma-ćārins.
Without doubt, celibacy in instances of extraordinary sanctity has always commanded respect in India; but in no country of the world has married life been so universally honoured. It is not very likely, then, that the following sentiments, enunciated by the Buddha, could have met with general approval:—