CHAPTER VI THE SANGHA, THE BUDDHIST ORDER OF MENDICANTS. It will seem strange to many that a religion which ignores the existence of God, and denies the existence of the soul, should be the very religion which has found most acceptance among men. They should consider that Buddhism has never been the only belief of the mass of its adherents, who have always also revered the powers of nature under the veil of astrology, or devil-worship, or witchcraft, or the belief in tantras and charms. One school of Buddhists has also developed a mythology of its own, and a sect of this school had even gone so far in the tenth or eleventh century as to evolve (not, perhaps, without Christian influence) a personal First Cause out of Buddhist metaphysics. The Northern school still condemns this sect as heretical, and the Southern Buddhists would condemn the whole mythology; but the purest adherent of the old Asoka Buddhism would believe firmly in Karma, which, from one point of view, has much analogy with soul; and, from another, is a name given to the moral power working in the uni verse. It is probable, however, that the absence or presence of any particular belief had less to do with the spread of Buddhism than the organization of its Order. Had the Buddha merely taught philosophy, he might have had as small a following as Comte. It is true that Gautama's power over the people arose in great measure from the glow of his practical philanthropy, which did not shrink in the struggle with the abuses most peculiar to his time; it is true that the equalizing tendencies of his teaching must have been attractive to the masses, from whose hands it struck off the manacles of caste; it is true also that his psychology and his ethics became a religion as soon as they had been addressed, not to a school only, but to the world. But there is no reason to believe that Gautama was conscious of this, or that he intended, either at the beginning or the end of his career, to be the founder of a new religion. He seems to have hoped that the new wine would go into the old bottles, by all men, Brahmans included, being gradually won over to his, the only orthodox form of the ancient creed. However the question of the historical succession or connection between the different systems of Hindu philosophy be ultimately settled-whether any of them, as we now possess them, were pre-Buddhistic or not - they afford at least sufficient evidence that beliefs, very inconsistent with the practical creed of the masses, met with little opposition if they were taught only in schools of philosophy; and Buddhist morality was not calculated to excite anger, or envy, or alarm. But the very means which Gautama adopted to extend and give practical effect to his teaching, while giving it temporary success, led to its ultimate expulsion from India. It was his Society rather than his 1 Doctrine-the Sangha rather than the Dharma, which first insured for his religion its great vitality and its rapid spread, and which afterwards excited the hostility of the Brahmans. It was a logical conclusion from the views of life held by Gautama, that any rapid progress in spiritual life was only compatible with a retired life, in which all such contact with the world as would tend to create earthly excitement and desires should be reduced as much as possible; and accordingly, from the first he not only adopted such a mode of life for himself, but urged it on his more earnest disciples. He contemplated no such division between clergy and laity as obtains in Christian countries, and constantly maintained that there was no positive merit in outward acts of self-denial or penance; but holding that family connections and the possession of wealth or power were likely to prolong that mistaken estimate of the value of things, that yearning thirst, that clinging to life, which were the origin of evil, he taught that to forsake the world was a necessary step towards the attainment of spiritual freedom. Little by little, as occasion arose, he laid down rules for the guidance of those who thus devoted themselves to the higher life; and insensibly as he did so, the Society became more and more like one of the monkish orders which sprang up afterwards in the West. But not even now has the Order become a priesthood: its members lay claim indeed, often with little ground, to superior wisdom and sanctity, but not to any spiritual powers; and its doors are always open, alike to those who wish to enter, and to those who wish to leave it. In a system which acknowledged no Creator, the monks could never become the only efficient intercessors between man and his Maker; their help was not required to avert by their prayers the anger of gods whose deity was temporary, and who had no power over men; and since salvation was held to be and to depend upon a radical change in man's nature, brought about by his own self-denial and his own earnestness, the monks could never obtain control over the keys of heaven and hell. When successive kings and chiefs were allowed to endow the Society, not indeed with gold or silver, but with the necessaries' of the monkish life (including lands and houses), it gradually ceased in great measure to be the school of virtue and the most favourable sphere of intellectual progress, and became thronged with the worthless and the idle; but in the time of its founder it was undoubtedly purer, and contained few beside those who, in their better moments, longed, under his guidance, to train themselves in Buddhist wisdom and virtue. In attempting a sketch of the rules under which they lived, we shall first, as in the chapter on lay morality, quote some general precepts from the Pitakas, and then descend to more minute particulars. Dhp. v. 9. He who, himself not stainless, Would wrap the yellow-stained robe around him, Is unworthy of the yellow robe. 10. But he who, cleansed from stains, Is well grounded in the Precepts, And full of honesty and self-restraint, 'Tis he who's worthy of the yellow robe. 362. The restrained in hand, restrained in foot, Restrained in speech, the best of the self-controlled; He whose delight is inward, who is tranquil, And happy when alone-him they call mendicant. 363. The mendicant who controls his tongue, speaking wisely and is not puffed up, Who throws light on worldly and on heavenly things- 366. The mendicant who, though receiving little, Thinks not his alms are less than he deserves, Whose life is pure, who is not slothful. 368. That mendicant whose life is love, Whose joy the teachings of the Buddha, He will enter the tranquil lot, Nirvana's bliss, where the Sanskāras end. 374. As soon as ever he comprehends The origin and end of the Skandhas, He then receives joy and gladness, That ambrosia of the wise (i.e. Nirvāna). 376. Let his livelihood be kindliness, 377. As the Vassikā plant casts down its withered blossomns, On the robes, see below, p. 165. On the precepts see above, p. 139. The two verses are full of puns, 'stain' being kasava, while the reddish-yellow of the robe is kāsāva. worthy' is arahati, which is meant to suggest Arahats. 'Is |