Every Veda has, as already stated, its own Brâhmana or Brâhmanas. Thus, two of these treatises appertain to the Rig-Veda; three to the Sâma-Veda, one to the Black and one to the White Yajur-Veda, and one to the Atharva-Veda (O. S. T., vol. i. p. 5). Appended to the Brâhmanas, and forming, according to Dr. Muir, their "most recent portions," are the Âranyakas and Upanishads, a kind of supplementary works devoted to the elucidation of the highest points of theology. The Brâhmanas present an example of Ritualism in all its glory. They fix the exact nature of every part of every ceremony; describe minutely the mode in which each sacrifice is to be offered; mention the Mantras to be recited on each occasion; declare the benefits to be expected from the several rites, and explain the reasons—drawn from the history of the gods—why they are all to be performed in this particular way and order, and in no other. They are in fact liturgies, accompanied by exposition. Hence they are totally unfit for quotation in a general work, for they would be incomprehensible without an accompanying essay on the Vedic sacrifices, entering into details which would interest none but professional students of the subject.
Thus, the Aitareya Brâhmana occupies itself entirely with the duties of the Hotri priests; for the recitation of the Rig-Veda, to which this Brâhmana belonged, was their province. Occasionally, however, the Brâhmanas, Upanishads, and Âranyakas are enlivened by the introduction of apologues, intended to illustrate the point of theological dogma to which the author is addressing himself. Some of these apologues are curious, though the style in which they are related is generally so prolix as to preclude extraction. A notion of them may be gathered from condensed statements. Thus, in the Brihad Âranyaka Upanishad a story is told of a dispute among the vital organs as to which of them was "best founded," i. e., most essential to life. To obtain the decision of this controversy they repaired to Brahma, who said, "He amongst you is best founded by whose departure the body is found to suffer most." Hereupon Speech departed, and returning after a year's absence, inquired how the others had lived without it. "They said, 'As dumb people who do not speak by speech, breathing by the vital breath, seeing by the eye, hearing by the ear, thinking by the mind, and begetting children, so have we lived.'" The eye, the ear, the mind, the organ of generation, each departed for a year, and, mutatis mutandis, with similar results; blindness, deafness, idiocy, impotence, were all compatible with life. Lastly, "the vital breath being about to depart, as a great, noble horse from the Sindhu country raises its hoofs, so it shook these vital organs from their places. They said, 'Do not depart, O Venerable. We cannot live without thee.' 'If I am such, then offer sacrifice to me.' (They answered)—'Be it so.'" All the other organs hereupon admitted that their own existence depended on that of the vital breath (B. A. U., ch. vi. p. 259).
Several narratives in various Brâhmanas point to the fact that theological knowledge was not in these early days confined to the single caste by which it was afterwards monopolized, for they speak of well-read kings by whom Brahmans were instructed. In the Chândogya Upanishad, for example, five members of the Brahmanical caste engaged in a debate upon the question "Which is our soul, and which is Brahma?" Unable to satisfy themselves, they repaired, accompanied by another theologian who had been unable to answer them, to a monarch named Asvapati, and declining his proffered gifts, requested him to impart to them the knowledge he possessed of the Universal Soul. He accordingly asked each of them in turn which soul he adored. The first replied that he adored the heaven; the second, the sun; the third, the winds; the fourth, the sky; the fifth, water; the sixth, the earth. To each of them in turn the king admitted that it was indeed a partial manifestation of the Universal Soul which he worshiped, and that its adoration would confer some advantages. But, he finally added, "You consume food, knowing the Universal Soul to be many; but he who adoreth that Universal Soul which pervadeth the heaven and the earth, and is the principal object indicated by (the pronoun) I, consumeth food everywhere and in all regions, in every form and in every faculty." Of that all-pervading Soul the several phenomena of the visible Universe worshiped by the Brahmans in their ignorance are but parts (Chhand. Up., ch. v. section 11-18, p. 92-97). Other Brâhmanas tell similar stories of the occasional preëminence of the Kshattriya caste in the rivalry of learning. Thus, the Satapatha Brâhmana, the Brihad Âranyaka Upanishad, and the Kaushîtaki Brâhmana Upanishad, all refer to a certain king Ajâtasatru, who proved himself superior in theological disputation to a Brahman named Bālāki, "renowned as a man well-read in the Veda." Let us take the version of the last-named Upanishad. Bālāki proposed to "declare divine knowledge" to the king, who offered to give him a thousand cows for his tuition. But after he had propounded his views on the Deity, and had been put to shame by the king's answers, the latter said, "Thou hast vainly proposed to me; let me teach thee divine knowledge. He, son of Balaka, who is the maker of these souls, whose work that is,—he is the object of knowledge." Convinced of his ignorance, Bālāki proposed to become the king's pupil. "The king replied, 'I regard it as an inversion of the proper rule that a Kshattriya should initiate a Brahman. But come, I will instruct thee'" (O. S. T., vol. i. p. 431).
Both these stories illustrate the striving towards conceptions of the unity of the divine essence which is characteristic of this speculative age. The next, from the Satapatha Brâhmana, has reference to another important point,—the future of the soul. A young Brahman, called Svetaketu, came to a monarch who inquired whether he had received a suitable education from his father. The youth replied that he had. Hereupon the king proceeded to put him through an examination, in which he completely broke down. One of the questions was this:—"Dost thou know the means of attaining the path which leads to the gods, or that which leads to the Pitris (Ancestors (patres)); by what act the one or the other is gained?" In other words did he know the way to heaven? The student did not. Vexed at his failure, the young man hastened to his father, reproached him with having declared that he was instructed, and complained that the Râjanya had asked him five questions, of which he knew not even one. Gautama inquired what they were, and on hearing them, assured his son that he had taught him all he himself knew. "But come, let us proceed thither, and become his pupils." Receiving his guest with due respect, the king offered Gautama a boon. Gautama begged for an explanation of the five questions. "That," said the king, "is one of the divine boons; ask one of those that are human." But Gautama protested that he had wealth enough of all kinds, and added, "Be not illiberal towards us in respect to that which is immense, infinite, boundless." The king accordingly accepted them as his pupils, saying, "Do not attach any blame to me, as your ancestors (did not). This knowledge has never heretofore dwelt in any Brahman; but I shall declare it to thee. For who should refuse thee when thou so speakest?" (O. S. T., vol. i. p. 434.)
Unhistorical as they probably are in their details, these traditions are curious both as illustrating the predominant inclination to speculative inquiries, and the fact that in those inquiries the priestly caste was sometimes outshone by their more secular rivals. The following quotation bears upon another doctrine, the transcendent merit of patience under trials, even of the severest kind. Manu, the typical ancestor of mankind, is represented as resigning his most precious possessions to enable impious priests to perform a sacrifice:—
"Manu had a bull. Into it an Asura-slaying, enemy-slaying voice had entered. In consequence of this (bull's) snorting and bellowing, Asuras and Râkshasas (these are species of demons) were continually destroyed. Then the Asuras said, 'This bull, alas! does us mischief; how shall we overcome him?' Now there were two priests of the Asuras called Kilâta and Akuli. They said, 'Manu is a devout believer: let us make trial of him.' They went and said to him, 'Let us sacrifice for thee.' 'With what victim?' he asked. 'With this bull,' they replied. 'Be it so,' he answered. When it had been slaughtered, the voice departed out of it, and entered into Manu's wife Mânavî. Wherever they hear her speaking, the Asuras and Râkshasas continue to be destroyed in consequence of her voice. The Asuras said, 'She does us yet more mischief; for the human voice speaks more.' Kilâta and Akuli said, 'Manu is a devout believer: let us make trial of him.' They came and said to him, 'Manu, let us sacrifice for thee.' 'With what victim?' he asked. 'With this (thy) wife,' they replied. 'Be it so,' he answered" (O. S. T., vol. i. p. 188).
Sometimes, though not often, the Brâhmanas contain references to moral conduct. A very theological definition of Duty is given in the Chândogya Upanishad, where it is stated, "Threefold is the division of Duty. Sacrifice, study, and charity constitute the first; penance is the second; and residence by a Brahmachârin (a student of theology) exclusively in the house of a tutor is the third. All those [who attend to these duties] attain virtuous regions; the believer in Brahma alone attains to immortality" (A. B., vii. 2. 10). In another Brâhmana it is asserted that "the marriage of Faith and Truth is a most happy one. For by Faith and Truth joined they conquer the celestial world" (Chhand. Up., ch. ii. sec. 23). And the the story of Sunahsepa, which contains an emphatic repudiation of human sacrifice, has a moral bearing. As a rule, however, the Brâhmanas do not concern themselves with ethical questions. The rules of sacrifice, and the doctrines of a complicated theology, are their main business; and the topics they are thus led to debate in elaborate detail must frequently impress the European reader as not only uninteresting, but unmeaning.
Section IV.—The Tripitaka.[58]
When the master-mind who, by oral and personal instruction, has led his disciples to the knowledge of new and invaluable truths passes away—when the lips that taught them are closed forever, and the intellect that solved the problems of human life is at rest, when the soul that met the spiritual cravings of their souls is no more near them—a necessity at once arises for the collection of the sayings, the apologues, or the parables which can now be heard no more, and which only live in the memories of those who heard them. The precious possession must not be lost. The light must not be suffered to die out. Either the words of the Departed One must be transmitted orally from disciple to disciple, from generation to generation (as happens in countries where writing is uncommon or unknown), or they must be rendered imperishable by being once for all recorded in books.
Such was the course of events upon the death of Gautama Buddha. Tradition tells us that immediately after that great Teacher had entered into Nirvâna, his disciples assembled in council to collect his λόγια, and to fix the Canons of the Faith. This Canon consisted of three portions, and is therefore called the Tripitaka, or Three Baskets. Of these baskets, his disciple Upali was appointed to recall to memory, and edit, the one termed Vinaya, or the Buddha's instructions on discipline; Ananda (the intimate friend of Gautama), the Sûtras, or practical teachings; and Kâsyapa, the Abhidharma, or metaphysical lectures. Into these three classes the Buddhist Canon remains still divided. But the text, as thus established, did not escape the necessity of further revision. One hundred and ten years after Sakyamuni's decease, certain monks brought considerable scandal on the Church by disregarding his precepts. To meet the difficulty, a council was held under the Buddhist king Asoka, the orthodox faith was determined, and a new edition of the Canonical Works compiled by seven hundred "accomplished priests." Divisions and heresies, however, could not be prevented. In Kanishka's reign, four hundred years after Buddha, the Church was split up into eighteen sects, and a third council had to issue a third Revision of the Sacred Texts.[59]