Part 2
"Glory, laud and honour To our Lord and King, This through countless ages, Men and Devas sing."
These Buddhists have organised Buddhist Sunday Schools. In these the children not only closely imitate Protestant Sunday Schools but sing to a small portable harmonium:
"Buddha loves me, this I know; For the Scriptures tell me so,"
or more usually Burmese hymns and "carols."
(b) _They tend to view Gotama as a Saviour_.--Again many look upon Gotama as a loving saviour. So strong is this attitude toward him that when a father blesses his child, he says to him: "May you be reborn when the Loving One, _Metteya_[6] comes." Gotama is reported as having promised the coming of such a redeemer. Even in Southern Asia, therefore, Buddhism is changing from a way of merit and self-mastery into a way of salvation by faith. May we not reckon this transition as a preparation for the message of Christianity? Buddhism everywhere is to-day almost more like Christianity than it is like the Buddhism of Gotama and the Elders. The Buddhism of Burma is more of a religion and less of a philosophy than that of the Books.
(c) _The Christian Heaven is more Attractive than _Nibbāna_.--It is clear again that Buddhists to-day are much more ready than before to accept the idea of a Christian heaven. This heaven, preached as a state of progress, a meeting-place of friends, and the beatific vision of God, is very attractive to them. The appeal of _Nibbāna_ is dying: "_Nibbāna_," said a monk in Burma, "is a fearsome thought. I have no hope of attaining it." "We are walking in darkness," said another leader, "without seeing a light, a person, or a hope."
Missionaries both in Burma and Ceylon are agreed that the teaching of Buddhism has changed very greatly during the last few decades, among those who have come directly or indirectly in touch with Christianity. Formerly Buddhists preached that there was no supreme god, that _Nibbāna_ meant total quiescence, almost total annihilation, that man is his own saviour, and that there is no possible escape from the penalty of sin; now many admit that there must be a God, declare that Gotama is a saviour, that sin is forgiven and that there is a heaven in place of _Nibbāna_.
On the other hand, there is still much work for the Christian missionary. Buddhism in many parts of Burma seems to be making one great last stand against the gospel of Christ. Its own standard is in many respects so high that our Christianity is as a whole not loving or sacrificial enough to win its adherents. The Christianity which is to be an overpowering argument for the efficacy and truth of the Christian faith is too rare. The Buddhist Revival is largely a reaction from our Western pseudo-Christianity, and from the shameless aggression of Christendom.
(d) _Moral Conditions Demand a Vital Christianity_.--The moral situation in Burma clearly demands that either a revivified Buddhism or Christianity in its most vital form should come to the rescue. The need is grave. Burma is at once the most literate and the most criminal portion of the Indian Empire. A government report for 1912 reads: "The moral sense of the people is diminishing with a slackening of religious observances. With the decay of ancient beliefs the Buddhist religion is losing its moral sanction as an inspiring force in the lives of its adherents. Drunkenness, gambling, drug-taking and vicious habits, increasing as they all are, tend to produce a weakening of self-control and a loss of self-respect which in favouring circumstances easily create the criminal." A fair-minded missionary would agree that these deplorable conditions are in large measure chargeable to the impact of Western "civilisation." It is incumbent upon us, in ordinary justice and fair play, to see that the West is represented by our very best men in missionary service, in commerce and in government posts. On the other hand, these deplorable moral conditions are also due to the fact that Buddhism has not succeeded in its task of building character. A genuine and vital Christianity has a large and hopeful task in Burma. These very attractive people need a dynamic and a bond of union in great enterprises. They are seeking such a religion.
(e) _Loving Social Service finds its own Way to the Heart_.--When Christianity is expressed in deeds of loving social service, such as work for lepers, for the deaf and the blind, or for any other needy class in the community, it touches a responsive chord in every Buddhist heart. They subscribe to our Christian mission work for the afflicted. The social appeal of Christianity will go far toward breaking down all forms of prejudice: and it is significant that the young Burmese are organising their own Y.M.B.A.'s and their own social service clubs, though at present these movements do not exhibit much staying-power.
(f) _Christianity dispels the Fear of the Demon World_.--Christianity reveals its power by dispelling the terrors of demon-haunted villages, and lessening the horrors of the slums of the great cities. A country like Burma is not interested in a new system of ethics. It is wholly satisfied with the admirable system it already possesses. But it does welcome the sense of spiritual freedom and power which Christianity can impart. "The kingdom of God is not in word, but in power." May we not say that Christ can give strength to follow the Noble Path of which Gotama spoke?
[1] The ancient and still the classic language of S. Buddhism in which its scriptures are preserved. It is used religiously, much as Latin is used in the Roman Catholic services.
[2] The Tipitaka (Sanskrit, Tripitika) (1) _Vinaya_; (2) _Sutta_; (3) _Abhidhamma_. The Pāli scriptures were originally written on palm leaves and preserved, layer upon layer, in the three "baskets." This, at least, is one explanation of the use of this term.
[3] Gotama is the Pāli form (common in S. Asia) of the Sanskrit Gautama, more familiar to Western readers.
[4] Sanskrit, _Karma_.
[5] Sanskrit, _Nirvāna_.
[6] Sanskrit, _Maitri_.
II. BUDDHISM IN CEYLON
1. On a Hillside near Kandy.
Over against this sketch of Buddhism as it appears in Burma let us consider a scene in a neighbouring land, the island of Ceylon, where for twenty-five hundred years, the religion of the yellow robe has held almost undisputed sway. Here it has a supreme opportunity, and has often used it nobly, building a great civilisation for a thousand years.
It is early spring. The rains are over, and in the brilliant moonlight, the Singhalese peasants have gathered from their little malarial villages to listen to _bana_, the preaching of the Buddhist Law.
(a) _The Dullness and Superstition of Village Life in Southern Ceylon_.--Life is dull in these villages, and any incident and any teaching will be welcome. It is a strange world in which these people live, "a world of bare and brutal facts; of superstition, of grotesque imagination; a world of hunger and fear and devils, where a man is helpless before the unseen, unintelligible forces surrounding him." As in Burma, so in Ceylon, demonism is inextricably interwoven with the Buddhism of the people. In Ceylon, however, it is a darker and more sinister demonism, blending with a far more sombre and pessimistic Buddhism. Devils and anti-devils, exorcists and monks, incantations and prayers to Buddha mingle in the dim confused minds of these poor Kandyan villagers. It is not very long since human sacrifices were made to the "demons" of disease.
(b) _The Themes of the Hillside Preacher_.--This darker pessimism speaks through the monotonous sing-song of the yellow-robed monk on the hillside, as he speaks to the villagers, urging upon them that life is transient and full of sorrow, that none the less their chief duty is to avoid taking the life of the meanest animal, not even killing the malarial mosquito or the plague-bringing rat against which government edicts have gone out. Here religion is in conflict with science and with family love: which is to die, my child or the rat? There can in the end of the day be but one answer.
(c) _The Stolidity of his Audience_.--The men listen dully, chewing their betel-nut. They have not much use for the monks, who own one-third of the arable land of the country and are a heavy drain upon its resources. Except fitfully, they are not schoolmasters like those of Burma, but tend to be drones in the hive. When they do teach the children they only emphasise the doctrines of rebirth and of not-killing; yet some are kind and teach reading and writing to the little ones. And occasionally one leads a life of such real piety as to justify this division of labour--"the people to work, the monk to meditate." But saints are rare in all lands.
2. The Hold of Buddhism upon the Singhalese.
Even in this village audience, crude as the preaching and dull as the response to it may be, there is a certain sense of religious peace, of an otherworldly calm. The _Dharma_ has not lost its power. What are the deep roots which the great tree of Buddhism has put out in the island of Ceylon? Of these the more intelligent Buddhist laity will speak. Let us question this young lawyer, dressed in Western style, who stands looking on with some contempt.
(a) _Appeal of its Traditions_.--Such men are impressed by what they see of a very ancient and very real civilisation, which Buddhism undoubtedly built. In the jungles everywhere are the remains of the days when Buddhism taught the people to irrigate their fields, to build strong cities, to write remarkable books, and to develop a genuine culture. The ruined cities of Anuradhapura and Pollanaruwa, in spite of the incursions of the jungle and of the neglect of centuries, are still magnificent and eloquent monuments of what was a really great civilisation when Europe was still barbarian. Here the patriot sees the melancholy remnants of a great Buddhist nation, great not only in the beauty of its art, but great in the tanks and irrigation systems now almost hidden by rank undergrowth, but remaining to prove that the whole of this vast deserted area was once under cultivation. Great, too, was the spirit of some of these rulers. Imagine the emotions which surge in the young patriot's heart as he thinks of all the devastation caused by the great European war and then stands before the calm statue of the noble Dutu Gemunu who to save his people from war, sought out the invader and slew him in single combat, and then in the greatness of his heart put up a splendid monument in his honour! It is on account of such things as these that the young modern Singhalese is convinced that Buddhism has still a place in the world.
Wave after wave of European aggression has swept over Ceylon, arousing a resentment which leads the Singhalese even to exaggerate the glories of ancient Buddhism. It is not strange that they do so. Moreover, although it is fashionable in Ceylon to despise the mendicants of the yellow robe, the fact that there are still about eight thousand monks shows that in these days of disillusionment there are many world-weary men, to whom the traditional attraction of the monastic life is over-poweringly strong and who find under it protection and peace. I have seen strong and true boys being drawn under its spell, and have known some noble characters among the monks.
(b) _Its work of Reformation_.--The intelligent Buddhist layman emphasises not merely the sense of peace and quiet satisfaction which Buddhism affords; he also claims that it has done away with caste and has purified religion. He will often compare the dignity, the stately beauty, and the harmlessness of the Buddhist temple and its surroundings with the incredibly gross indecencies of a Saivite shrine in Southern India. Men must worship something: in Buddhism they worship a good and great man deified. In Saivite Hinduism they mingle the base passions of a perverted sexuality with their worship.
(c) _Its Leadership of Public Opinion_.--This apologist argues, too, that Buddhism still retains the power of moulding public opinion. He instances the strenuous appeals which the Buddhists have made to the Ceylon government to suppress instead of encourage the liquor traffic: and points to some of their good schools, where young Ceylon is being taught the great moral lessons of their Faith. And though Theosophists from the West have been most responsible for starting these, the Buddhists keep them up and are adding new buildings and improving their quality.
(d) _Yet Ceylon needs Christianity_.--It is clear that much as Buddhism has done for this lovely land, it does need Jesus Christ as indeed all lands, not least our own, need Him in increasing measure as they face the complexities of the modern world.
He is needed in jungle village and in teeming city, to cast out fear and sin, and to enable His people to live nearer to their ideals. They, too, have gifts for Him! And we and they are partners in a glorious enterprise: to establish His Kingdom of Love and Truth in all the world. Their devotion to their Buddha, no less than their need and helplessness to-day, is an inspiring motive to the Christian missionary to win them to Christ.
3. Two Sharply Marked Attitudes among Buddhists.
Let us return to the hillside preacher. A change has come over his audience. All are now alert and eager. Seated around his platform, they are holding a cord which seems to bind them in some mystic circle. It is "_Pirit_": a kind of magic incantation. The preacher is reciting the ancient runes by which evil is averted and demon armies kept at bay. He is telling how the bandit, Angulimāla, who had killed nine hundred and ninety-nine victims and wore their fingers as a chaplet, tried to kill the Buddha so as to make the full tale of a thousand, but was converted on the spot. "May the merit of this be yours," he says, and they all cry, "_Sadhu_, Amen."
"All humbug," grunts the layman. "Come, let us go to the Young Men's Buddhist Association, where a Singhalese advocate, newly returned from England, is going to read a paper on 'Buddhism, a Gospel for Europe.'" Leaving the palms and fragrant trees of the jungle silhouetted against the brilliant sky, and passing the white buildings of the Buddhist High School and of the precious and venerated Temple of the Tooth, he talks of this possibility. It seems that a movement is on foot to send a mission to Europe. We agree that, if Christians were real followers of Jesus of Nazareth, such missions would be futile: and that the spirit of Gotama is akin to that of Jesus. "We see your Christ," he says; "in His beauty, because we have first seen the beauty of our Buddha." Here is a preparation for the gospel indeed. And may not all idealists--Christians, Buddhists, and others--cooperate much more freely than they do in great causes? In a League of Nations, for example, and in social programmes? In Ceylon, as in Burma, Buddhism is in some degree adapting itself to the new world-environment. Its old cry of pain, "All is fleeting, transient, sorrowful," is giving place to attempts at social service and positive living. Yet as compared with Burma or with Christian lands, the predominating note among Buddhists in Ceylon is one of world-weariness and despair.
III. BUDDHISM IN SIAM
1. Siam a Buddhist Kingdom.
Ceylon and Burma were for many centuries Buddhist kingdoms with a sovereign as patron and supporter of the monks and very often with members of the royal family amongst the great abbots. Buddhism has indeed depended much upon royal patronage, and in these days when kings are rare it is of special interest to get a glimpse of a modern Buddhist kingdom which is not unlike those of the past. Let us study a great festival in Siam where the king's own brother is Head of the Order and where he himself is a staunch patron of Buddhism.
2. The Thot Krathin Festival.
Some time between the eleventh and twelfth moons his majesty visits the temples round Bangkok which are under his royal patronage. For weeks past every household in Siam, from that of the King to that of the poorest peasant, has been busy "laying down holy cloth" or making patchwork robes for the monks, that the letter of the old commandment "be ye clothed in rags" may be observed, and the monks be supplied with their year's clothing. At the same time offerings of bedding, furniture, and food are made and great merit is acquired by the faithful. The King in his splendid barge of state, with its prows shaped like dragons, its sixty oarsmen, its canopy of cloth of gold, sets out for one of the great _Wats_ or temples; he is seated on his throne, and wears a golden crown, and about him are numerous little princes. Arrived at the shrine his retainers carry the bales of cloth and other offerings into the temple, and then the King himself with due ceremony and amidst barbaric music and military salutes, comes down from the barge and lights five candles which stand upon the table prepared for his offering. Then, burning incense, he bows to the image of the Buddha, to the sacred books written on strips of palm-leaf, and to the Order of Monks; he is "taking refuge" in the Buddhist Jewels. He then reverently asks the abbot to accept him as a lay-adherent, and to allow him to keep the Five Precepts, not to kill, not to steal, not to commit sexual sin, not to lie nor to drink strong drink. And if it be a holy day he will also take the vows of a monk, not to eat after midday, not to watch theatrical shows, nor use perfumes, nor sleep on a high luxurious bed. Then as he offers his gifts the monks accept them, crying "_Sadhu_" (Amen or well done), and distribution is made according to their rank. So amidst their blessings he bows again to the Three Jewels and makes a solemn departure to another shrine.
3. The King and Pāli Learning.
The present King, whom we may call for short King Mahamongkut (he has more names than the Hohenzollerns), is a graduate of Oxford, a man of the world, and a great patron of Buddhist scholarship. This has been a tradition of his house for centuries and in no small degree the present interest in Pāli learning in Western countries is due to the enthusiasm of the ruling house of Siam, which has presented splendid libraries of the sacred books to many universities and temples. The King summons the monkish candidates for degrees in Pāli learning to undergo examinations every three years; and for nine days in the comparatively cool weather of the early part of the year makes a royal festival in their honour, during which they are undergoing an examination which increases every day in stiffness. Those who survive to the end are given the degree _Pareean ek_, or "first-class honours," and with it goes a small pension; those who drop out before the end are given second-, third-, or fourth-class degrees. So the knowledge of the sacred books is kept alive and some of these Siamese scholars reach a remarkable degree of proficiency. Their influence has been potent in a renaissance of Pāli learning in Burma and Ceylon.
4. Buddhist Education.
In Siam as in Burma the monks are the elementary schoolmasters. The boys all spend some time as novices, during which they not only learn the rudiments of the religion but reading, writing, and arithmetic. As in Burma, very little is done for the education of the girls, though this is steadily improving owing to the splendid work done by mission schools.
5. The Temples or Wats.
These Siamese pagodas, fantastic and gay with gold and sky-blue tiles, are of four grades, those built by the King and dedicated to him, those built by the princes, those built by the nobles, and lastly those built by the common people, usually by subscription organised by the monks or by some enthusiastic laymen. Merit gained in this and similar ways has been called "The Sum and Substance of Siamese Buddhism": there is some truth in these generalisations as regards the whole of Southern Asia. But in Siam as elsewhere there is genuine devotion to the religion of Buddha, and the human heart is not as calculating as this sentence implies. Moreover, there is considerable attempt to modernise the religion to fit the new age, and many of the people follow the King in believing that it can be made the basis for a modern state, and can unify and uplift the peoples. All that helps to build up a nation is welcomed in Siam, and Christianity therefore has an open door here as in Ceylon and Burma. Burma is tolerant, but Siam desires the friendship of Western peoples, and being independent is freer to develop along its own lines. Let us now attempt to summarise our impressions of the Buddhism of these lands of Southern Asia by describing other typical scenes in each.
IV. SOME TYPES OF BUDDHIST RELIGIOUS LIFE
1. The Cremation of a Singhalese Abbot.
A great Singhalese abbot has passed away. It is a national event. The hillside near Kandy is thronged with great companies of monks in every shade of yellow and brown, while around them surges a sombre sea of the faithful laity. In the centre of the huge assemblage is the funeral-pyre, draped in white and red. Standing beside it, a monk is telling in solemn and mournful tones of the greatness and goodness of the departed, who, though he had not become worthy of _Nibbāna_, had his feet surely set upon the upward path leading to a good rebirth in _so-wan_, a heaven. Then amidst solemn chanting and the wailing of flutes and throbbing of drums he applies a torch to the pyre. While the people bow their heads and cry "_sadhu_" (Amen), the body turns to ashes. Then solemnly and silently the great throng disperses, the lay people to take up the ordinary duties of life, the monks to meditate upon its transient character and unreality. And here a young novice, to whom the dead man has been very dear, stays weeping, until the last embers die down and night comes swiftly on.
2. The Funeral Rites of a Burmese Monk.
Another funeral scene. It is that of a Buddhist monk in Burma--a _Hpongyi_. The whole countryside is present. In clothing of exquisite silk, resembling a brilliant swarm of butterflies, the people surround the great catafalque, blazing with tinsel and gold leaf, on which lies the embalmed body of the monk. After a time the coffin is taken down and a programme of merry-making begins. The young bloods of the village to which the monk has belonged, range themselves in two carefully picked teams on either side of it. Then begins a tug-of-war with the body in its coffin, the victorious team treating the defeated to drinks, and to side shows at the little booths which cluster round, awaiting custom. These and other contests make a glad and joyful scene at which all the people rejoice, for has not the good man been released from this transient life (which, nevertheless, is good and satisfying while blood is hot and youth endures)? Has he not returned to a life of glory, and won much merit for his own folk and for all the faithful?