CHAPTER IV.

CONSECRATED PERSONS.

We have seen the religious instinct leading to the consecration of actions, to the consecration of places, and to the consecration of things. We are now to follow it in a yet more striking exhibition of its power, the consecration by human beings of their own lives and their own persons (or sometimes of the lives and persons of their children). Not only is such self-dedication to the service of religion common; it is well-nigh universal. There is no phenomenon more constant, none more uniform, than this. Differing in minor details, the grand features of self-consecration are everywhere the same, whether we look to the saintly Rishis of ancient India; to the wearers of the yellow robe in China or Ceylon; to the Essenes among the Jews; to the devotees of Vitziliputzli in pagan Mexico; or to the monks and nuns of Christian times in Africa, in Asia, and in Europe. Throughout the various creeds of these distant lands there runs the same unconquerable impulse, producing the same remarkable effects. This is not the place to attempt a psychological explanation of asceticism as a tendency of human nature. We have now only to notice some of its most conspicuous manifestations, and thus to assign to it its proper place in a history of the mode in which man endeavors to approach and to propitiate his god.

Generally speaking, we may premise that the consecration of individuals to a life in which religion is the predominating element, means the abandonment of the ordinary pleasures of the world. This is of the very essence of self-devotion. Sanctity, and the enjoyment of all those things in which the body is largely concerned, have always been regarded as inconsistent and opposite. Hence, in the first line of things prohibited to consecrated persons, we always discover the pleasures of sex. To indulge in these is usually considered the most flagrant outrage against their rules. Next to sexual delights, or equally with them, the luxuries of choice food, rich clothing, comfortable beds, well-furnished rooms, and similar ministrations to physical ease are withheld from the votaries. They are very frequently voluntary paupers or mendicants; or where this is not the case, they usually depend on some endowment derived from the liberality of others. Where their numbers are large, they are placed under rules, and bound to the strictest obedience to their superiors in the same line of life. Moreover, mere abstinence from ordinary pleasures is not enough to prove their devotion; they are called on to undergo extraordinary pains. These vary with the rule of the order, or their own fervor. Sometimes they are obliged to live in rooms which, in the coldest weather, no fire is permitted to cheer; sometimes their sleep is broken by rising at unseasonable hours to worship their deity; sometimes the garment they wear is too thick in summer, and too scanty in winter; and sometimes they tear their own flesh by scourging and flagellation. Fasting, too, is often imposed at certain times. And the zeal of individuals always outruns the compulsory hardships of their position. They will show the intensity of their devotion by fasting more rigorously than others, sleeping on harder couches, bearing greater inflictions. Self-consecration continually tends towards greater and greater self-denial; but the actual degrees of self-denial vary from the mere observance of some simple rules to the extremest possibility of self-torture. Confining ourselves, however, to the general marks which characterize this devotion of persons to religion, we may say that it involves principally two things: chastity and poverty.

When the Spaniards had established themselves in Mexico and Peru, they were astonished to find, in the religious customs and practices of the new world they had invaded, so much that resembled those of the old world they had left behind. Especially was this the case with regard to monastic institutions, in respect of which it seemed that the Christian missionaries had little to teach their heathen brothers. "Certainly it is a matter of surprise," says the Reverend Father Acosta, "that false religious opinion should have so much power with those young men and young women of Mexico, that they should do with such austerity in the service of Satan that which many of us do not do in the service of the most high God. Which is a great confusion to those who are very proud and very well satisfied with some trifling penance which they perform" (H. I., b. 5, ch. 16, sub fine). In describing more particularly the manner in which the devil had contrived to be served in Mexico, he states that around the great temple there were two monasteries, one of young women and the other of young men, whom they called monks (religiosos). Those young men who served in the temple of Vitziliputzli lived in poverty, chastity, and obedience; ministered like Levites to the priests and dignitaries of the temple, and had manual labor to do. Besides these were others who performed menial services, and carried the offerings that were made when their superiors went in quest of alms. All these had persons who took charge of them, and when they went abroad they held their heads low and their eyes on the ground, not daring to raise them to look at the women they might come across. Should they not receive enough by way of alms, they had the right of going to the sown fields, and plucking the ears of corn of which they had need. They practised penance, rising at midnight, and also cutting themselves so as to draw blood; but this exercise and penance did not last more than a year (H. I., b. 5, ch. 16).

Both in Mexico and in Peru young girls were consecrated to a religious life, but this consecration was sometimes only temporary; a certain proportion of the Peruvian nuns being drafted off into the harem of the Inca. Acosta, describing this consecration of virgins, is again impressed with the abilities of the devil. Since, he observes, the religious life is so pleasing in the eyes of God, the father of lies has contrived, not only to imitate it, but to cause his ministers to be distinguished in austerity and regularity. Thus in Peru there were many convents for girls, who were placed under the tuition of old women whom they called Mamaconas. Indoctrinated by the Mamaconas in "various things necessary for human life, and in the rites and ceremonies of their gods," they were removed, after they had attained fourteen years, either to the sanctuaries where they preserved a perpetual virginity, or to be sacrificed in some religious ceremonial, or to become wives and mistresses of the Inca and his friends. The consecration of these damsels was not, as usual in such cases, voluntary on their part, but the same idea of merit inspired the gift on the part of those who made it. For, while the surrender of female children to the monastery was compulsory when demanded by an officer named the "Appopanaca," yet "many offered their girls of their own free will, it appearing to them that they gained great merit, inasmuch as they were sacrificed for the Inca." If any of the older nuns, who presided over the children, had sinned against her honor, she was invariably buried alive or subjected to some other cruel death.

"In Mexico," continues the pious Jesuit, "the devil also found his own kind of nuns, although the profession did not last more than one year." As has been said, there were two houses, one for men and another for women. Like the monks, the nuns also wore a distinctive costume, and dressed their hair in a distinctive fashion. Like them, they had manual labor to perform; like them, they rose at midnight for matins. They had their abbesses, who occupied them in making robes for the adornment of the idols. They also had their penance, in which they cut themselves in the points of the ears. They lived with honor and circumspection, and any delinquency, even the smallest, was punished with death; for they said that the sinner had violated the honor of their god (H. I., b. 5, ch. 15).

Another author, describing the religious orders of Peru, states that fathers, anxious that their children's lives should be preserved, used to dedicate them in infancy to some form of monastic establishment, to which they were actually committed at the age of fifteen. If, for instance, they were promised to the house of Calmecac, it was that they might perform penance, and serve the gods, and live in purity and humility and chastity, and be altogether preserved from carnal vices. A Christian parent could have desired no more. "And if it were a woman, she was a servant of the temple called Civatlamacazqui; she had to be subject to the women who governed that order; she had to live in chastity, and abstain from every carnal act, and to live with the virgins who were called _the sisters_," who were shut up in the convent. A feast was made when the child was dedicated by its parents, and the head of the order took it in his arms in token that it was his subject till it was married; the consecration not being perpetual. Its reception was accompanied by a solemn ceremonial, in which the following prayer was offered to their god: "O Lord, most merciful, protector of all, here stand thy handmaidens, who bring thee a new handmaid, whose father and mother promise and offer her, that she may serve thee. And well thou knowest that the poor thing is thine: vouchsafe to receive her, that for a few days she may sweep and adorn thy house, which is a house of penance and weeping, where the daughters of the nobles place their hand on thy riches, praying and weeping to thee with tears and great devotion, and where they demand with prayers thy words and thy power. Vouchsafe, O Lord, to show her grace, and to receive her: place her, O Lord, in the company of the virgins who are called Tlamacazque, who do penance and serve in the temple, and wear their hair short. O Lord, most merciful, protector of all, vouchsafe to do with her whatever is thy holy will, showing her the grace which thou knowest to be suited to her." If then the girl was of age, she was marked in the ribs and breast, in evidence of her being a nun; and if she was still a child, a string of beads was put round her neck, which she wore until she could fulfil the vow of her parents (A. M., vol. v. p. 484-486).

But in addition to these temporary nuns, Peru had others, whose vows were perpetual. Vega relates in his Commentaries, that besides the women who entered into monasteries to profess perpetual virginity, there were many women of the blood-royal who lived in their own houses, subject to a vow of virginity, though not in "clausura." They went out to visit their relations on various occasions. They were held in the greatest respect for their chastity and purity, which was by no means feigned, but altogether genuine. Any failure to observe their vow was punished by burning or drowning. The writer knew one of these women when advanced in life, and occasionally saw her when she visited his mother, whose great-aunt she was. He bears witness himself to the profound veneration with which this old lady was everywhere received, the place of honor being always assigned to her, as well by his mother as by her other acquaintances (C. R., b. 4, ch. 7). Thus we find celibacy, as a mark of piety, in full force in the new world at the time of its discovery, no less than in the old; and religious chastity as much respected by the idolatrous Mexicans and Peruvians as by their Catholic invaders.

Monasticism, in countries where Buddhism reigns supreme, is a vast and powerful institution. In the early times of Buddhistic fervor, it would almost seem from the language of the legends, that to embrace the faith of Sakyamuni and to become an ascetic were one and the same thing. At least every convert who aspired to be not only a hearer, but a doer of the word, is described as instantly assuming the tonsure and the yellow robe. At the same time the distinction between Bhikshus, mendicants, and Upâsakas, laymen, is no doubt an early one; and we must assume, that as soon as the religion of the gentle ascetic began to spread among the people at large, those whose circumstances did not permit them to be monks or nuns were received on easier terms. "What," asked a disciple, "must be done in the condition of a mendicant?"—"The rules of chastity must be observed during the whole of life." "That is impossible; is there no other way?"—"There is another, friend; it is to be a pious man (Upâsaka)." "What is there to be done in this condition?"—"It is necessary to abstain during the whole of life from murder, theft, pleasure (the illicit pleasures of sex must be understood), lying, and the use of intoxicating liquors" (H. B. I., p. 281). To these five commandments, binding on every Buddhist, the rule imposed upon the mendicants adds five more, to say nothing of many more special obligations and regulations to which they are subject. Murder, theft, unchastity, lying, and drinking, are forbidden to them as to all others; the sixth commandment prohibits eating after mid-day; the seventh singing, dancing, and playing musical instruments; the eighth adorning the person with flowers and bands, or using perfume and ointment; the ninth sleeping on a high and large bed; the tenth accepting gold and silver. These several prohibitions aim, as is evident, at precisely the same objects which the founders of Christian orders have always had in view; that, namely, of weaning their disciples from the world by keeping from them the enjoyment of its luxuries, and preventing the acquisition of personal property.

The obligation to observe these rules commenced with the novitiate; a condition which, in Buddhist as in Catholic communities, precedes that of complete ordination. The novices are termed Sramanera, a word meaning little Sramanas, while the monks themselves are either Sramana or Bhikshu. Both these designations serve to express the nature of their vocation; Sramana being "an ascetic who subdues his senses," and Bhikshu "one who lives by alms" (H. B. I., pp. 275, 276). The sisters are called Bhikshunî, and they are said to owe their origin to Maha Prajapati, the aunt of the great Sramana Gautama, who obtained from her nephew, through the intercession of the beloved disciple Ananda, the permission for her sex to follow their brothers in the way of salvation by poverty and chastity (Ibid., p. 278).

There can be no question that, according to the original practice of the mendicant orders, the vow was taken for life; and this is, I believe, still the custom in most of the lands where Buddhism is in the ascendant. But in Siam, the monastic vow can at any time be cancelled by the superior of the monastery; and this rule, which involves a gross abuse of the original institution, renders temporary asceticism universal in that country (Wheel, p. 45). Another kind of degeneracy has occurred in Nepaul, where the ministers of religion, who elsewhere must be monks, are permitted to be married (Hodgson, T.R.A.S., vol. ii. p. 245).

The objects proposed to themselves by Buddhists, in embracing an ascetic life, are precisely the same as those proposed to themselves by Christians. By denying themselves the pleasures of this world, they hope to obtain a higher reward than other mortals; whether in the shape of birth in a happier condition, or in that of complete emancipation from all birth whatsoever, which is the supreme goal of their religion. The means they pursue to attain these ends are also similar. The Prâtimoksha Sûtra, or Sûtra of Emancipation, which forms the universal _regula_ in all their monasteries, is worthy of a St. Benedict or a St. Francis. It lays down with the minutest elaboration, not only all the moral precepts that must be obeyed by the monk or nun, but all the little observances in regard to dress, eating, walking, social intercourse, and so forth, to which he must attend. It contains two hundred and fifty rules, and the breach of any of these is attended with its appropriate penance, according to the magnitude of the offense.

Asceticism was deeply rooted in the native land of Buddhism long before the appearance of the reformer who gave it, by the foundation of communities, an organization and a purpose. Just as in Egypt there were many solitary saints before the time of Pachomius and Antony, so in India there were holy men who had subdued their senses before the gospel of deliverance was preached by Gautama Buddha. Some of these dispensed altogether with clothing, a custom which was frowned upon by Buddhism and put down wherever its influence was paramount. Others lived in lonely places, exposed to every sort of hardship and avoiding every form of carnal pleasure. The popular mind combined the practice of austerity with the acquisition of extraordinary powers over nature. Hence, no doubt, an additional motive for its exercise. The Râmâyana abounds with descriptions of holy hermits, living on roots in the forests, and practising the utmost austerity. Visvamitra, for example, the very type of an ascetic, was a monarch, who determined to obtain from the gods the title of "Brahman saint," the highest to which he, not by birth a Brahman, could aspire. This was the manner in which he went to work:—

"His arms upraised, without a rest, With but one foot, the earth he pressed; The air his food, the hermit stood Still as a pillar hewn from wood. Around him in the summer days Five mighty fires combined to blaze. In floods of rain no veil was spread, Save clouds, to canopy his head. In the dark dews both night and day Couched in the stream the hermit lay."[5]

Twice did the gods, alarmed at the power he was likely to acquire, direct their efforts against his chastity. The first time the perfect nymph deputed on this errand, seen by him while bathing herself naked in the stream, caused him to forget his vow and dally with her for ten years. The second time the saint perceived the plot, but allowed himself to burst forth in words of unholy rage against the damsel who was trying to seduce him, and thus lost the merit of his former penance. After this he resolved never to speak a word, and persisted in his resolution, until the gods, in a body, addressed him in the long-desired form: "Hail, Brahman Saint" (Griffith, The Ramayan, vol. i. p. 274).

Visvamitra is of course a mythical character, and his penance imaginary; but the ascetic life he is described as leading was taken from models which the writers had before their eyes. All the marvels of the Thebaid in Christian times were, in fact, anticipated in India by at least one thousand years.

How deeply the ascetic tendency is implanted in human nature is strikingly shown in the case of the Essenes, the Nazarites, and the Therapeutæ, who sprang from a religion whose ostensible precepts are eminently opposed to all such courses, that of the Jews. Judaism powerfully encouraged all those inclinations to which monasticism is fatal: the propagation of the species, the acquisition of property, the maintenance of family ties, and the enjoyment of the good things which this world has to offer. Yet from the bosom of this sober faith sprang bodies of men who neither ate flesh, nor drank wine, nor cohabited with women. It may be that the Jewish ascetics were not very numerous; but it is clear, too, that they were not so few as to be deemed by contemporary observers altogether unimportant. And the fascination which John the Baptist, pre-eminently an ascetic, exercised over his countrymen in the first century, is a sign that this mode of living was conducive among the Jews to that spiritual supremacy which is so constantly received at the hands of Christians.

That Christianity should encourage a disposition which even Judaism could not check was no more than might be expected from the language and conduct of its founder and his earliest disciples. Christ was never married, and probably lived in complete chastity. Paul goes so far as to compare marriage unfavorably with celibacy. James upholds poverty as preferable to riches in the eyes of God. The whole of the New Testament abounds with passages in which present misery is declared to be the forerunner of future happiness, and present prosperity of future suffering. This is the very spirit of monasticism, and it is not surprising that from such a root such fruits have sprung. From a very early age devout Christians have felt that in renouncing individual property, marriage, personal freedom, and the various other joys which life in the world offers, they were fulfilling the dictates of their religion and preparing themselves for heaven. To illustrate this proposition effectually would be to write the history of the monastic orders. Beginning in the deserts of Egypt, these have extended throughout Europe, and have exercised a vast and potent influence on the extension of the Christian faith. Monks have been missionaries, preachers, martyrs, persecutors, bishops and popes. The greatest names who have ranged themselves under the banner of the Catholic Church have belonged to one or other of the several orders. And alongside of the monks, living by the same rule, helping them in their several tasks, the nuns have ever been forward in undergoing their share of austerity and undertaking their share of labor.

Very various have been the immediate motives that have led such large numbers of Christians to betake themselves to the monastery or the convent. Some have fled from riches and luxury; others from poverty and wretchedness. Some have been sick of earthly pleasures; others have sought to avoid the temptation of ever knowing them. Many have been drawn by the irresistible spell of asceticism to flee from opposing parents and unsympathizing friends in order to embrace it; others have been destined from their infancy, like the Mexican and Peruvian youth, to wear the cowl or to take the veil. But throughout the history of every order there has been the same fundamental idea sustaining its existence; the idea, namely, that in becoming an ascetic, the person was consecrated to God, and became by that consecration purer, holier, and better than those who continued to pursue the ordinary avocations of secular life.

This consecration is not given without due solemnity. It is only after a novitiate, in which he has full experience of the privations to be undergone, that the candidate can be received into the order of which he desires to be a member. Should his resolution be unshaken after his year's trial as a novice, he may take the irrevocable vow of obedience, under which those of poverty and chastity are comprehended. He is now a consecrated person. He has sacrificed himself completely to his divine Master, and whatever reward he may hope to receive must be given by that Master in a future state.

It is one of the principal weaknesses of Protestantism that it has omitted to provide for the ascetic instinct. It has lost thereby the mighty hold which the Catholic Church must ever possess over those who feel themselves moved to crucify the flesh and devote themselves wholly to spiritual things. Strange to say, this remarkable instinct has nevertheless broken out afresh within the bosom of Protestantism in recent times. The Shakers are but a somewhat novel species of monks and nuns. They abstain from marriage though the two sexes live together in one community. Their chastity is said to be perfect. They give up all individual property for the common good. They wear a peculiar dress and are subject to peculiar rules. Lastly, they believe that they stand under the special guidance and protection of the Holy Spirit.