Part 30

Kesarīya is a large village about thirty miles distant from Vaiṡālī (Besārh). It is chiefly remarkable for a mound of ruined brick-work, 62 feet in height, supporting a solid brick Stūpa (nearly 68½ feet in diameter), which is also partly in ruins. The people call it the Stūpa of the Ćakravartī (Universal Monarch) Veṇa, father of King Pṛithu. In Manu, VII. 41; IX. 66, 67, King Veṇa is described as an arrogant monarch who resisted the authority of the Brāhmans. Probably he favoured the Buddhists. At any rate the Buddhists assert that the remarkable Stūpa at this place was built to mark the spot where Gautama Buddha preached a discourse, in which he described one of his previous births as a Ćakravartī king.

Not far from the Stūpa a small mound has been excavated, and the head and shoulders of a colossal statue of Buddha brought to light (Cunningham, i. 67).

_Kuṡi-nagara._

Kuṡi-nagara (in Pāli Kusi-nārā) was the place where the Buddha died, or—to speak more correctly—passed away in Pari-nirvāṇa (see pp. 48, 49, 140). It was long searched for in vain, but has recently been identified by Sir A. Cunningham with the modern Kasia, eighty miles east of Kapila-vastu, and 120 miles N.N.E. of Benares.

Neither Fā-hien nor Hiouen Thsang say much about Kuṡi-nagara, except that it was deserted and had few inhabitants; but the latter’s allusion to the Buddha’s passing away out of the world at this place, and his account of the subsequent assembling of the first council at Rāja-gṛiha by order of the great Kāṡyapa (pp. 47, 55), is so interesting and curious that I here give an abstract of his narrative, based on Mr. Beal’s translation (ii. 161):—

Once when the great Kāṡyapa was seated in meditation, suddenly a bright light burst forth, and the earth shook. Then, exerting his faculty of supernatural vision, he saw the Lord Buddha passing away into Pari-nirvāṇa between two trees. Forthwith he ordered his followers to accompany him to the city of Kuṡi-nagara. On the way there they met a Brāhman, who, on being asked whence he came, replied, ‘From Kuṡi-nagara, where I saw your master entering into Nirvāṇa. A vast multitude of heavenly beings were around him.’

Kāṡyapa having heard these words said, ‘The sun of wisdom has extinguished his rays. The world is now in darkness. The illustrious guide—the King of the Law—has left us; the whole world is empty and afflicted. Men and gods are left without a guide.’ Accordingly, he proceeded to the two trees, and looking on Buddha, offered worship. But certain careless monks said one to another, with satisfaction, ‘Tathāgata has gone to rest. This is good for us; for now, if we transgress, who is there to reprove us?’ Then Kāṡyapa was deeply moved, and resolved to secure obedience to the teaching of Buddha.

Addressing the assembled multitude, he said, ‘We ought to collect the Law. Those who have kept it without failure, whose powers of discrimination are clear, such persons may form the assembly. Those who are only learners must depart to their homes.’

On this they went away, and only 999 men were left, including Ānanda. But the great Kāṡyapa excluded Ānanda as being yet a learner. Addressing him, he said, ‘You are not yet free from defect; you, too, must leave the assembly. You were a personal attendant on Buddha, you loved him much, and are, therefore, not free from the ties of affection.’

So Ānanda retired to a desert place. Wearied out, he desired to lie down. Scarcely had his head reached the pillow, when lo! he obtained the condition of an Arhat. Then he returned to the door of the assembly. But Kāṡyapa said to him, ‘Have you got rid of all ties? If so, prove it; exercise your spiritual power and enter without the door being opened.’ Then Ānanda entered through the key-hole, and having paid reverence to the assembled monks, sat down.

This power of reducing the body to the size of an atom, so as to be able to pass through so minute an aperture as a key-hole, was one of the supernatural faculties supposed to belong to perfected saints or Arhats (compare pp. 133, 245 of these Lectures).

The consideration of Buddhist Sacred Places might lead us on to various hallowed spots in other Buddhist countries, for example, Anurādha-pura, Adam’s Peak and Kelani in Ceylon; the site of the great pagoda at Rangoon, and of that near Mandalay in Burma; the site of the Buddha’s foot-print (Phra Bat) in Siam; the snows of Kinchinjunga in Sikkim; the city of Lhāssa and its monasteries in Tibet; Kuren in Mongolia; but all these, and other places, have either been incidentally mentioned in previous Lectures or will be more fully noticed hereafter.

LECTURE XV. _Monasteries and Temples._

Buddhist monasteries deserve a fuller notice than the incidental allusions we have made to them in previous Lectures.

The duty of dwelling under trees, and not in houses, according to the example set by all the Buddhas (see p. 136), and especially by Gautama Buddha himself, during his long course of meditation (see p. 31), was in theory supposed to be binding on all true monks. ‘The root of a tree for an abode’ was one of ‘the four Resources,’ of which every monk was allowed to avail himself, and the enumeration of which formed part of the admission-ceremonies (see p. 80).

At the same time certain dispensations or indulgences were specially granted at those ceremonies, one of which was permission to live in covered residences, when not itinerating. The five kinds of dwellings permissible under varying circumstances are described in Ćulla-vagga (VI. 1, 2). They are Vihāras (monasteries), Aḍḍhayogas (i. e. houses of a peculiar shape), storied dwellings (prāsāda)[221], mansions (harmya), and caves (see note, p. 81 of this volume).

It is clear that any painful exposure of the body to the violent storms of India was incompatible with one of the principles of Buddhism, which, though it taught self-denial and self-sacrifice of a particular kind, deprecated all personal self-inflicted pain and austerity.

Yet it appears (from Mahā-vagga, III. 15) that at the time of his first residence at Rāja-gṛiha (see p. 29 of these Lectures), the Buddha had not yet instituted ‘the Retreat’ during the rains (Vassa). Hence the monks were in the habit of going on their travels alike during winter, summer, and the rainy season.

The people complained of this, and said that the monks in walking about during wet weather were unable to avoid crushing vegetable life and treading on minute living things. Thereupon the Buddha prescribed that the monks were to keep ‘Vassa,’ and refrain from peregrination during the rains.

Soon afterwards, when the Buddha had left Rāja-gṛiha and had taken up his abode during Vassa in the Jeta-vana garden at Sāvatthī (see p. 407), a wealthy and pious layman (Upāsaka) who had built a monastery (Vihāra) for the monks, sent to invite them to reside in it, saying that he wished to hear them recite the Law and to bestow gifts upon them. The Buddha permitted them to go, but required them to return in seven days. He gave the same permission when another rich and pious layman had provided other residences and conveniences for the monks, such as a storied house, a mansion, a store-room, a cave, a refectory, a bathing room, a well-house, a pavilion, a park, etc.

On the other hand, when, on a particular occasion, a monk wished to keep Vassa in a cattle-pen (Mahā-vagga, III. 12) the Buddha permitted him to do so. So, again, on another occasion he allowed a man to keep Vassa in a caravan, and on a third occasion in a covered boat or ship. But it is recorded that he prohibited Vassa from being kept in the open air, or in the hollow of trees[222] (see Mahā-vagga, III. 12, 3).

It is evident from all this, that even in the early days of Buddhism, rich laymen were in the habit of seeking to acquire religious merit by providing comfortable habitations for the monks; and although at first the use of such luxuries was only permitted in the rainy season, this restriction was soon removed, and a residence in covered dwellings became usual at all seasons of the year.

Then, as Buddhism spread, kings, princes, and rich men competed with each other for the privilege of erecting vast monasteries—sometimes called Vihāras[223], sometimes Saṅghārāmas—to which temples, libraries, and schools were generally attached, and in which dwelt wealthy communities of monks, who were allowed to hold property in land.

The founding of extensive and important institutions of this kind was, of course, an exceptional proceeding. As a general rule, collections of monastic dwellings were of a simple and unostentatious character. In various parts of India are to be seen in the present day ancient Buddhist cave-monasteries now untenanted, some of them—such as the caves of Barābar—as old as the third century B.C.

I myself visited those at Elorā (Elurā), twelve miles from Aurangābād in the Nizām’s territory, as well as others at Nāsik, Kārle, and other places. The Elorā caves are possibly as old as the third century[224], and with the adjoining Brāhmanical and Jain caves of later date, extend for one mile and a quarter along the scarp of an elevated plateau. The three groups of caves rival each other in the beauty and interest of their sculptures, and together constitute one of the wonders of India—their position side by side proving that the adherents of the three systems lived together in harmony. Among the Buddhist caves are beautiful ‘Ćaityas’ or halls for general worship (see p. 450), refectories for commensality, and cells without number for the habitation of the monks. All the excavations had become partially filled up; but the visit of the Prince of Wales in 1876 stimulated the Nizām’s government to clear away the dust and rubbish of centuries.

Then, besides cave-monasteries, the ruins of extensive monastic establishments built of brick, stone, or other less durable materials, are scattered everywhere throughout India.

Those of the vast monastery of Nālanda near Rāja-gṛiha, and others at various other sacred places, have been already described (see p. 412).

Turning next to the monastic structures of modern Buddhist countries, and beginning with Ceylon, we find that in that island, as Spence Hardy has pointed out, and as I myself observed during my sojourn there, the residences of the monks are of very simple construction, and often extremely mean in appearance. They are called Pān-sālās (Paṇṇa-ṡālā = Sanskṛit Parṇa-ṡālā) because supposed to be made of leaves. In general, however, they are constructed of wattle filled up with mud, the roof being covered with straw, or with the platted leaves of the cocoa-nut. They are always dirty and always abound in cobwebs.

A monastery which I saw near Kandy consisted of an oblong rectangular court-yard, surrounded in the interior by a kind of roofed cloister or verandah, out of which opened the monks’ cells, lighted only from the sky above the court. The interior walls of both cloister and cells were begrimed with patches of dirt and masses of cobwebs, which are never touched for fear of breaking the first Buddhist commandment, ‘kill not’ (p. 126).

Of course there are monasteries of a better and more imposing type, such as that attached to the Māligāwa temple of the sacred eye-tooth on the Kandy lake (see p. 454).

In Burma the ordinary residences of the monks appear to be simple in character, like those in Ceylon. In Siam, on the contrary, they are sometimes elaborate, and often have richly-covered entrances. At the same time the Siamese monks (according to Mr. Alabaster) are in the habit of itinerating a good deal, only remaining in their monasteries during the three months of rains, when residence there is imperative.

Speaking of the larger and more imposing monasteries (Kyoung) in Burma, Mr. Scott says (I give his account in an abbreviated form):—

The monasteries are built of teak, or, sometimes in Mandalay and Lower Burma, of brick. The shape is always oblong, and the inhabited portion is raised on posts and pillars, eight or ten feet above the ground. They are, like all the other houses in the country, only one story high; for if it is an indignity to a layman to have anyone’s feet over his head[225], it is much more so to a member of the brotherhood. The space between the ground and the floor is always kept open, and is never used except by the monastery school-boys. A flight of steps of stone or wood leads up to the verandah, which extends along the north and south sides, and frequently all round. From the raised floor thus reached, rises the building, with tier upon tier of massive roofs (in diminishing stages), giving the appearance of many stories when there is only one. The accommodation is simple. It consists in the main of a central hall divided into two portions, one level with the verandah where the scholars are taught, and most of the duties of the monastery carried on, and the other a dais, raised about two feet above the level of the rest of the building. Seated upon this, the monks are accustomed to receive visitors, and at the back, against the wall, are arranged the images of Buddha, a large one usually standing in the centre on a kind of altar, with candles, flowers, praying flags, and other offerings placed before it. On shelves alongside are a number of smaller figures of gold, silver, alabaster, clay or wood, according to the popularity of the monastery, and the religious character of the neighbourhood. Occasionally there are dormitories for the monks, but as a rule they sleep in the central hall, where the mats which form their beds may be seen rolled up against the wall. The whole area of the extensive compound in which the monastery stands is enclosed by a heavy teak fence with massive posts and rails, seven or eight feet high. The laity, when they enter, take off their shoes and carry them in their hands. This rule applies to the highest in the land.

The daily life of the monks inhabiting monasteries of this kind in Burma has been already described (see pp. 311-314 of these Lectures).

If we now pass to northern Buddhist countries we shall find that, as a general rule, the dwellings of monks are insignificant tenements of poor construction, attached to or built round small chapels or shrines. Sometimes the monks live in the rooms built over such chapels.

Sir Richard Temple (Journal, ii. 207) visited a so-called monastery at Pemyangchi (in Sikkim), which consisted of a single building with two stories. In the upper some of the monks resided, and a chapel formed the lower.

The temple-monastery I myself visited in British Sikkim, near Dārjīling, is similar. The exterior appearance might be compared to that of some small Dissenting chapel in an English village. The thatched roof, which once gave it a picturesque appearance, has recently been removed, and a roof of modern construction substituted. The shrine or temple is on the ground floor, while the upper floor is the abode of the attendant priests, and seems also to serve as a store-room with cupboards for their equipments. The contents of the ground-floor temple, with its altar at the further end and shelves for the sacred books on one side, are very indistinctly seen, being only lighted up by a ‘dim religious light,’ when the door is kept wide open. I noticed three images on the altar.

The case is different when large numbers of monks congregate in particular places. In some districts of Ladāk, Mongolia and Tibet, monasteries (or Lāmaseries as they are sometimes called) have been erected, which for vastness, magnificence, and grandeur of situation amid splendid scenery, are unequalled in any part of the world.

According to strict rule, retired localities should be chosen. Hence large monastic establishments are often found in solitary places[226] and elevated situations; for instance, in Ladāk those at Lāma Yurru and Hemis are more than 11,000 feet above the sea, and that at Hanle is 14,000 feet. They resemble romantic castles towering upwards in the midst of rocks, crags, and snowy mountains.

Another monastery at Kīlang (Kyelang), in the British Tibetan province of Lahūl (contiguous to Ladāk), stands on the spur of a mountain, at an elevation of 12,000 feet, and is approached through grand ravines and glaciers, so that occasionally, after snow-storms, those who pass to and fro are buried in avalanches.

The outer walls of large monasteries of this kind in secluded situations are generally lofty. Often they are made of stone or brick, plastered with mud and surmounted with little pinnacles and poles, on which are prayer-flags. Within the walls are cells for the monks, the abode of the Head or Abbot, a room for holding books, a temple, an assembly-hall, a refectory, store-houses, receptacles for musical instruments, masks, staves, etc.; the buildings being often arranged in rows, and always intermixed with Stūpas (see p. 504) and monuments. The walls of the vestibules and of the great hall are usually ornamented with fresco-paintings, representing subjects from the Buddhist Jātakas (p. 111). Generally there are corridors or covered cloisters lined with prayer-wheels, or open walks paved with stone, called in Sanskṛit Ćankramaṇa (Pāli, Ćankamana), for the monks to perambulate up and down in meditation. These are supposed to be constructed after the pattern of the stone walking-places used by the Buddha himself (see p. 400).

In the monastery at Kīlang the roof of the great hall is supported by massive beams garnished with belts, swords, yaks’ tails, huge and terrible masks, and all sorts of odds and ends. On one side is a huge praying-wheel, on each revolution of which a bell is struck. A dim subdued light pervades the entire hall, exaggerating the ghastly hideousness of the figures[227].

To take as another instance—the monastery or Lāmasery of Kunbum (or Kumbum) north of Tibet, celebrated as the birth-place of Tsong Khapa (p. 277), and situated, according to M. Huc, on a mountain intersected by a broad and deep ravine:—

On either side of the ravine, and up the slopes of the mountain, rise, in amphitheatrical curves, the white dwellings of the Lāmas, each with its little terrace and enclosing wall, while here and there above them ‘tower the temples, with their gilt roofs glittering with a thousand colours.’ The houses of the superior monks are distinguished by pennants, floating above small hexagonal turrets, while those of the ordinary monks are simple cells. On all sides mystical sentences, in the Tibetan character, meet the eye (see p. 381), some inscribed on doors, some on walls and stones, or on linen flags fixed on poles.

Almost everywhere are conical vessels, in which incense and odoriferous wood are burning; while numbers of Lāmas circulate through the streets of the monastery in their red and yellow dresses—grave in their deportment, and, although under no obligation to silence, speaking little, and that little in a low voice.

This Lāmasery of Kunbum enjoys so great a reputation, that the worshippers of Buddha make pilgrimages to it from all parts of Mongolia, Tartary, and Tibet, and on the occasion of great festivals the confluence of strangers is immense. It is much frequented by Eastern Tibetans.

Near Kunbum is a much smaller monastery, devoted to the study of medicine. It is at the foot of a rocky mountain, on the heights of which dwell certain contemplative monks. M. Huc saw one of these hermits, who never communicated with the outer world except for food, which he drew up to his rocky cell by the help of a bag tied to a long rope (ii. 73).

Some mention should also be made of the monasteries at Kuku khotun, ‘the blue city’ in Tartary. That town contains no less than five great Lāmaseries and fifteen affiliated monasteries, with a grand total of 20,000 Lāmas dwelling in them. The chief monastery is that of the ‘Five Towers’—not to be confounded with one of the same name in the Chinese province of Shan si.

This latter is a celebrated place for burials (see p. 370), and pilgrims may there be edified by a sight of the Buddha’s shadow impressed on a rock.

Another example of a monastery in a remote situation is that of Kurun or Kuren (see p. 295), situated on the slope of a mountain in Mongolia. In this celebrated monastery of the Grand Lāma Tāranātha 30,000 Lāmas (according to M. Huc) are lodged and supported.

The plain at the foot of the mountain is constantly covered with tents of various sizes for the convenience of pilgrims. Hither throng the worshippers of Buddha from the most remote countries.

Viewed from a distance, the white cells of the Lāmas, built on the declivity in horizontal lines one above the other, resemble the steps of an enormous altar, of which the temple of the Tāranātha Lāma appears to constitute (in Roman Catholic phraseology) ‘the tabernacle.’ In this country Tāranātha is the saint par excellence, and there is not a Tartar Khalka who does not take a pride in calling himself his disciple.

Passing on now to Tibet, we find that in its principal provinces the number of monastic institutions connected with its two respective capitals of Lhāssa and Tashi Lunpo, is more than a thousand, with 491,242 Lāmas. This is the estimate of the latest traveller[228].

According to Huc, more than thirty large monasteries may be reckoned in the neighbourhood of Lhāssa alone.

Adverting for a moment to Lhāssa itself, we may note that this ‘city of the gods’—the chief town of the province of U, situated on the Ki-ćhu river[229]—had in 1854 about 15,000 inhabitants within a circumference of two-and-a-half miles. According to a Chinese proverb, its chief inmates have always been ‘priests, women, and dogs.’ Koeppen affirms that Lhāssa has always been a greater nest of monk-priests than Rome has ever been.

Doubtless its population is now increased, and includes a considerable proportion of laymen; yet, in all likelihood, at least two-thirds of the inhabitants are monks; and it cannot be too often repeated that, according to the true theory of Buddhism, the only raison d’être of the laity is to wait upon the monkhood.

Moreover, Lhāssa, next to Benares and Mecca, is, perhaps, the most frequented place of pilgrimage upon earth. Scarcely a day passes on which the streets do not overflow with crowds of pilgrims—some from every quarter of Tibet, some from Bhutān and other Himālayan regions, some from all parts of Mongolia. All meet here to worship the incarnated representative of the Bodhi-sattva (Avalokiteṡvara) manifested in the Dalai Lāma—to receive his blessing, his consecrated pills, and his prayer-papers (see p. 331 of these Lectures). The residence of this Lāmistic Pope is at Potala.

In fact Potala on the north-west side of Lhāssa is what the Vatican is to Rome. It existed in ancient times as a palace, but was rebuilt and converted into a palace-monastery by the celebrated fifth Dalai Lāma Navang Lobsang, A.D. 1617-1682 (p. 292 of this volume), and from that time forward became the residence of all the Dalai Lāmas, who had before lived either at Sera or at Brepung (Dapung, see p. 442).

In its striking and unique position, it is even more imposing than the Vatican.

Imagine a lofty structure erected on an isolated hill[230], rising abruptly from the plain with three long summits or eminences, and watered at the base by the Ki-ćhu river, which flows into the great Tsanpo. The south-western ridge is the so-called Iron-hill, on which is a monastery where Tsong Khapa himself is said to have taught. The north-eastern bears the name of the Phagmo hill[231], while the highest is the hill of Potala, with its palace-monastery towering in four stories to the height of about 367 feet, and ending in a cupola covered with plates of pure gold.