Part 22

As to Japan, it does not appear that the Lāmistic form of Buddhism has penetrated into that country. In all probability Buddhist writings were introduced there from Corea about A.D. 552[134], but it is certain that Buddhism did not gain much ascendency in Japan till the ninth century, and even then was not able to displace either Shintoism or Confucianism and the worship of deceased ancestors. In fact, Buddhism commended itself to the Japanese, as it did to the people of every country to which it spread by its receptivity; and just as in Tibet, it adapted itself to the Shamanism which previously existed there, so in Japan it adopted Shintoism, and turned some of the Shinto deities into Bodhi-sattvas. Then followed the inevitable splitting up of Japanese Buddhism, as of all other religious systems, through disagreements and divisions; and in the thirteenth century various sects were developed. As to these, we need only note that while some sects adopt the early Atheistic and Agnostic form of Buddhism with its doctrine of Nirvāṇa, the principal sect called Shin is decidedly Theistic.

Sir Edward Reed, in his work on Japan (i. 84), informs us that he met a learned priest named Akamatz in company with the Archbishop of the Western sect. This priest’s account of the Shin sect coincides with the information which I myself received from a learned Japanese priest at Oxford.

It appears that the members of this sect believe in Amitābha Buddha as a Being of infinite light and goodness, their chief prayer-formula being Namo Amida (for Amita) Butsu, ‘Reverence to the Infinite Buddha,’ that is to Amitābha[135]. They place faith in the love and mercy of Amita Buddha, or rather in his readiness to receive them into his paradise called Sukhāvatī (see pp. 183, 204). At the same time they are required to lead moral lives, and salvation is practically only obtainable through their own works. The monks are allowed to marry and to eat flesh and fish.

Their doctrines have many points of contact with Christianity. The late Mr. Kasawara of Japan, who belonged to this sect and was highly esteemed by all who knew him in England, said to a Christian friend that ‘it gave him great pleasure to meet in the Gospels many coincidences with the aspirations of his own Buddhist faith, and that he greatly admired the idea of the Christ as the concrete expression of the Inscrutable Essence in its twofold form of infinite Light and infinite Love.’

Another well known sect called Nichiren was founded by a celebrated student and teacher named Nichiren. The Nichirens have been called the Methodists or Revivalists of Japan. They are very strict, and esteem the book of the Law as the highest object of veneration. Their prayer is to the following effect:—‘Glory be to the salvation-bringing book of the Law!’

Doubtless Japan once had a peculiar hierarchical organization of its own, which crumbled away not long ago, and need not now be described. Even in the present day each sect may have its leader or Head, who exercises a kind of episcopal superintendence like that of a Bishop or Archbishop.

We have already mentioned (p. 200) that a female form of Avalokiteṡvara is worshipped in Japan and China as the goddess of mercy. Her name in China is Kwan-yin, and in Japan Kwan-non; and she is represented as possessing any number of eyes and arms up to a thousand, and sometimes three faces.

In concluding this Lecture we may note that Russia is the only European country to which Lāmistic Buddhism has hitherto penetrated. There are adherents of the Dalai Lāma among the Burat (Buryad) tribes on the Baikal Lake, and among the Kalmuks on the Volga. Koeppen informs us that the chief temple and monastery of the former is on a lake thirty versts to the North-west of Selenginsk, and that the presiding monk is called the Khanpo Paṇḍita and claims to be an Avatāra Lāma. The Chief Lāma of the latter is said to be appointed by the Russian Government.

Hierarchical Buddhism naturally leads us on to the subject of ceremonial Buddhism, which must be reserved for the next Lecture.

LECTURE XII. _Ceremonial and Ritualistic Buddhism._

Having in the last Lecture described the manner in which hierarchical systems were established in various Buddhist countries, we are naturally led on to consider in the present Lecture the development of what may be called ‘Ceremonial and Ritualistic Buddhism’; for no hierarchy can maintain its hold over the masses anywhere without the aid of outward manifestations, rites, ceremonies, and appeals to the senses.

Early Buddhism was, as we have already shown, vehemently opposed, not only to all sacerdotalism, but to all merely external ritualistic and ceremonial observances. It swept away the whole Vedic ritual—the whole sacrificial system of the Brāhmans; it rejected all penitential austerities and painful bodily mortifications; it denounced every form of superstition, idolatry, and priestcraft; it maintained that to lead a life of purity and high morality was better than all the forms and ceremonies of religion.

But the very vehemence of its opposition tended to bring about a reaction. Indeed, the history of all religious movements proves that the teaching of extreme doctrines of any kind is almost invariably followed by a Nemesis, though the teacher of them may himself not live to see it.

At the outset a reformer of the ultra type is sure to gain adherents by his enthusiasm and earnestness, as well as by his ardour in condemning abuses, but a time is almost certain to come when his followers will themselves lapse into the identical practices which it was his great object to denounce.

At all events, it is well known that in the present day the Buddha’s followers have invented a mass of complicated forms and ceremonies wholly out of keeping and incompatible with the purer and simpler system which he himself sought to establish.

In point of fact the Buddha in promulgating his creed did not take into account the impossibility of eradicating certain deep-seated cravings inherent in human nature, which every religion aiming at general acceptance must reckon with and satisfy:—for example, the craving for the visible, for the audible, and for the tangible; the craving for some concrete impersonation of infinite goodness and power; the craving for freedom from personal responsibility and for its transference to a priesthood; the craving for deliverance from the pains and penalties of sin; the craving for an infallible guide in all matters of faith and doctrine.

Later Buddhism, on the other hand, set itself to satisfy these longings—these ineradicable yearnings of the human heart. It felt that it could not establish itself on a firm foundation without hierarchical organizations, and it could not maintain these without external forms, ceremonies, and ritual observances. It therefore turned the simple monastic brotherhood into a caste of priests, and it attracted and gratified the senses of unthinking multitudes by a great variety of religious rites, usages, and symbols, many of which are quite unique, while nearly all are accompanied with superstitious practices implying an amount of ignorance and credulity on the part of the people, quite unparalleled.

This corrupt phase of Buddhism is especially dominant in Tibet, Mongolia, and Northern countries. In real truth it might be affirmed of every Buddhist in Tibet that religious superstition colours all his thoughts, words, and deeds. It is interwoven with the tissue of his daily life, and is part and parcel of his worldly occupations. It is equally part and parcel of the national life, and enters into every Government transaction. Furthermore, it is fostered by art and science, and ministered to by painting and sculpture. Nay, it is stamped on Nature itself. It is impressed on rocks, stones, and trees. It finds its way to the summit of snow-clad mountains, to the recesses of inaccessible ravines, and to the extremities of remote deserts.

To crown all, it might be affirmed that in Tibet religious superstition goes on by machinery, quite independently of the human will. It is kept in continual activity, night and day, by the flapping of flags, and by the revolution of innumerable wheels and cylinders, which are acted on by the forces of wind and water.

It may easily, therefore, be imagined that to give an exhaustive account of all the ceremonies and superstitious practices of Tibetan, or, as it may be called, Lāmistic Buddhism, would require the command of unlimited time. They have been treated of by Koeppen in his second volume, and by Schlagintweit in his ‘Buddhism in Tibet,’ and have been illustrated by descriptions in Huc’s travels[136], in Markham’s account of the travels of Bogle, Turner, and Manning, and in the recent narrative of Mr. Sarat Chandra Dās’ Journey. All I can attempt is to give a concise account of some of the chief Lāmistic observances, taking the books just named as my authorities, and adding whatever information I have been able to collect myself from other sources, while travelling in Buddhist countries.

We must, however, guard against the notion that ceremonial observances are confined to Tibet and Northern regions. They are now more or less prevalent in Burma and Ceylon, which have adopted much of the Mahā-yāna system, and to these countries we must give our first attention. Even the ceremonies now observed at the reception of novices and monks in Burma and Ceylon are less simple than the early admission-forms already described (pp. 77, 78, 256).

Of course every novice has to cut off his hair. He does this to prove that he is ready to give up the most beautiful and highly-prized of all his personal ornaments for the sake of a religious life.

But other forms have to be gone through in the present day, and I now give an account of the admission-ceremony of a novice—as performed in Burma—based on the description in the third chapter of Shway Yoe’s interesting volume called ‘the Burman[137].’

It is well understood that, according to the strict letter of the law (p. 77 of the present Lectures), a boy ought not to be admitted to the novitiate until he is fifteen, but in modern times, the admission often takes place at twelve or even eleven years of age, the belief being that until a boy is so admitted he cannot claim to be more than an animal.

The first point to be noted is that his admission involves the dropping of his secular name, and the receiving of another title to mark that it is then possible for him to escape the suffering of life. As he is sure to have been a scholar or pupil in a monastery (Kyoung) before applying to be admitted as a novice, he has learnt beforehand all the forms of worship and much that will be required of him during his monastic life; for instance, that he is to address senior monks in a particular manner and to wait upon them respectfully; that he is to walk through the streets keeping his eyes fixed on the ground, without gazing about, even if he have to pass a pageant or attractive spectacle of any kind; that he is to wear his garments in the prescribed fashion; that he is to eat with moderation and dignity.

On the day appointed for the induction-ceremony, the young neophyte dresses in his gayest clothes, and mounted on a pony, passes at a foot’s pace through the town or village. A band of music goes before him, and all his friends dressed in their best garments, follow in a crowd, the young men dancing and singing, the girls smiling and laughing. Thus he proceeds in procession to the houses of his relations, to bid them farewell. Of course the introductory observance is intended as a kind of dramatic imitation of Gautama Buddha’s celebrated abandonment of his own family and worldly associates, called the Mahābhinishkramaṇa, ‘the great going forth from home’ (see p. 28 of this volume). When the round of visits is finished, the would-be novice turns back with all his companions to his parents’ house. There he finds a large number of persons assembled, and among them the Head of the monastery, with several of his brother monks. These are seated on a raised dais in front of which are the offerings intended for presentation to them, consisting of fruit, cooked food, yellow cloth, etc.

The monks (‘Talapoins’) seated in a row, carefully hold up their large fan-like screens to shut out the female portion of the assemblage from their view. Portions of the Vinaya (p. 62 of this volume) are then recited, after which the would-be novice is made to throw off all his fine clothes and bind a piece of white cloth round his loins. Then his hair is cut off close, and his head is carefully shaved and washed. Next he is taken to a bath, and after immersion in pure water, is brought once more, partially clothed, before the assembled monks. Prostrating himself three times before them, he raises his hands in reverence, and, using the regular Pāli form of words, asks to be admitted to the holy brotherhood. Upon that the Head of the monastery presents him with the yellow monastic garments. These are duly put on, and the mendicant’s bowl is hung round his neck. The ceremony concludes by the formal announcement of his having become a member of the monastery.

The present admission-ceremony in Ceylon appears to be of a simpler character. In fact it differs little from the ancient form. Those boys who are destined for the novitiate usually begin their connexion with the monastery to which they intend to belong by first becoming pupils in the monastery-school. The devotion of the monkhood to the education of mere boys was perhaps one of the best results of the progress and development of Buddhism. In monasteries, all boys may learn to read and write[138]. There also they gain some experience of monastic duties and requirements, so that when the time comes for any pupil to enter the novitiate, his preparedness is taken for granted. He merely makes known his intention to a superior or senior monk. Then having shaved his head, and undergone the ceremony of bathing, the applicant, who has furnished himself with the proper yellow robes, presents them to the superior monk, and requests to be allowed to receive them again that he may become a novice. Next, on his reciting the three-refuge formulary, and the ten prohibitions, he is permitted to take back the monkish garments and to put them on. He is then formally admitted, and his admission announced to the other members of the monastery (Hardy’s Eastern Monachism, p. 23). It may be noted that the monkish garments do not include a head-covering as in Northern countries.

As to the ceremony of admission to the full monkhood, it differs so little from the ancient rite (described at p. 79), that no further description need here be given.

With regard to the religious services performed in the monastic institutions of modern times, they are, of course, a great advance on the simple formularies used in early days, before the establishment and organization of large monasteries.

The earlier and purer Buddhism, as we have seen, had only one religious formula, and that was a simple expression of veneration for the three jewels—the Buddha, his Law, and his Order of Monks (p. 78).

Any form of worship was altogether out of place, if not a mere mockery, when there was no supreme Being to worship; when the Buddha himself, who never claimed to be more than a perfected man, had passed away into non-existence, and when all that he left behind was the great ideal of his own memory, to be venerated and imitated.

When, however, monastic establishments were organized and the doctrine became developed, a great development of worship took place.

To illustrate this I submit a description of daily life in a Burmese monastery, based on the information given by Shway Yoe (p. 307), and often using his words.

It appears that every monastic community in Burma is roused a little before daylight by the sound of a big bell, beaten with a wooden mallet. Each monk has then to rise, rinse out his mouth, wash his hands and face, arrange his dress (the same in which he has slept all night) and recite a few formularies, among which is one to the following effect:—‘How great a favour has the Lord Buddha bestowed upon me in manifesting to me his law, through the observance of which I may escape the purgatorial penalties of hell and secure salvation!’ All the members of the fraternity then station themselves before the image of the Buddha, with the Abbot at their head, and the rest of the brotherhood, full monks, novices and scholars, according to their order. This done, they proceed to intone the morning service. At its conclusion each stands before the Head of the monastery, and pledges himself to observe during the day all the rules and precepts incumbent upon him. They then separate—the pupils and novices to sweep the floor of the monastery, bring drinking water, filter it, etc., the more advanced novices and full monks to tend the sacred trees; the elders to meditate in solitude on the miseries of life, such meditation being beyond all other actions meritorious. Some gather flowers and offer them before the relic-shrine (Dāgaba).

Then comes a repast, preceded by a grace to the effect that the food is eaten to satisfy bodily wants, not to please the appetite; that garments are used to cover nakedness, not for vanity; that health is desired to give strength for the performance of religious worship and meditation. After the meal, all devote themselves to study or to teaching. Then arranging themselves in file, they set out with the Abbot at their head to receive their food (not beg). Silently they move on through the streets, fixing their eyes steadily on the ground six feet before them, meditating on the vanity and mutability of all things, and only halting when a layman emerges from some door to pour his contribution of rice or fruit or vegetables into their alms-bowls. The gift received, not a word or a syllable of thanks is uttered; for is it not the receivers who confer the favour and not the givers? In this way they circle back to the monastery.

On their return from their perambulation a portion of the food is offered to the Buddha, and then all proceed to eat the remainder, consisting perhaps of cooked rice, boiled peas, fish, cocoa-nut cakes, cucumbers, or even curried flesh and fowl, usually wrapped separately in plantain-leaves. Next the bowls are washed, and a few hymns are chanted before the Buddha’s image. During the succeeding hour the boy-scholars are allowed to play about, while the monks pass their time in conversation, and the Abbot receives people who come to pay their respects. All visitors prostrate themselves before him three times, once for the Buddha, once for the Law, and once for the Monkhood. The Abbot in return says: ‘May the supporter’ (so he calls all laymen; compare p. 89), ‘as a reward for merit, be freed from the three calamities (of war, pestilence, and famine)!’ At about half-past eleven the last regular meal of the day is eaten. Monks are forbidden to eat after noon. When the mid-day meal is over, all return to work. Some undertake the teaching of the boy-scholars. Others read the texts of the Tri-piṭaka with their commentaries, or superintend the writers who are copying manuscripts. Some of the older members of the monastery talk with the idlers, who are to be found lounging about the precincts, and some sink into deep meditation, which probably ends in deep sleep.

Yet this profound meditation is believed to be all important, for is it not the path to Arhatship, to Nirvāṇa, and to the acquisition of supernatural faculties (see p. 245)? Other monks tell the beads of their rosaries and repeat the prescribed formularies, such as: ‘All is changeful, all is sorrowful, all is unreal,’ followed by invocations to the three holies (see p. 175). Between three and four o’clock the lessons are finished, and the scholars perform any domestic duties required in the monastery. This is the chief return for the teaching they receive. Then most of the pupils go to their own homes for dinner. As to the youthful novices or junior monks, these are all obliged to fast like the full monks. Many of them go out with some of the senior monks for a solemn walk. Then at sunset the far-reaching notes of the bell summon the walkers back to the monastery. All must be within the walls before the sun goes down. The day’s duties now draw to a close. The boy-pupils are made to repeat all they have learned during the day, and some of the Pāli rituals are chanted ‘with spasmodic energy.’ At half-past eight or nine there are further recitations before the image of the Buddha. All assemble, as in the morning, and together intone the hymns. When the last sound of the chant has died away, one of the novices stands up and proclaims the hour, day of the week, day of the month, and number of the year. Then all bow before the Buddha’s image, and thrice before the Head of the monastery, and retire to rest (see Shway Yoe’s ‘Burman’).

It is noteworthy that severe asceticism and painful austerities—as practised among the Hindūs from the earliest times up to the present day (described at pp. 228-230 of this volume)—form no part of the duties of Buddhist monks; for Buddhism has never sanctioned bodily torture, as Brāhmanism has done.

We now pass on to a description of the observances usual during the period of Vassa (see pp. 82-84).

Mr. Dickson has given us some valuable notes on the method of keeping this season in Ceylon, and I venture to found a short narrative on the information he has communicated[139].

It seems that the villagers of Ceylon esteem it a privilege and a work of great merit to send for one or two monk-priests from a monastery and to minister to their wants, as well as listen to their preaching and recitations during Vassa.

The season begins on the fifteenth day of the eighth month; that is, on the day of full moon in the month Ashāḍha (June, July). Sometimes two or three villages join in inviting a monk-priest to live with them for the whole three months. They prepare a chamber for his sleeping accommodation, a room for his meals, a temporary chapel for the reception of the Buddha’s image, of the relic-casket and of the sacred books, and a place in which he can recite the law and explain it.

On the first day of Vassa the villagers put on their holiday dresses, and set off with music, dancers, singers, and flags for the monastery, where the priest, whom they desire to invite, resides. Thence they conduct him in procession to their homes. His first act, after his arrival, is to set up the image and arrange the relic-casket and books. An altar is placed in front of the image, and on this the people proceed to make their offerings of flowers and perfumes. Next every villager contributes something for the priest’s food, such as tea, sugar, honeycomb, orange-juice, and the like. The priest, in return, pronounces a benediction, and says:—‘By virtue of this first offering made for the sake of the Buddha, who is like unto the sun of gods and men, and by virtue of this second offering made to the monkhood, which is like a field of merit, may you henceforth be delivered from the evils of birth in the place of torment, in the world of beasts, in the world of ghosts, and in the world of demons, and inherit the bliss of those who ascend and descend through the worlds of gods till you are born again in the world of men (see p. 21)!’