BUDDHISM IN CEYLON.

 By W. Robt. Fletcher, M.A. 

No. 7.

WHAT THE BUDDHA TAUGHT.

It remains for me now, as I conclude this series of papers, to attempt to give some slight idea of the doctrine which Buddha taught, and by which he achieved such singular success. Here, at the outset, I am met with two difficulties, which are all but insuperable.
First— Buddhism has changed from age to age, and has a different aspect, and even a different creed in the various countries that profess it. Suppose an enquirer were to attempt to set forth primitive Christianity, and in his search for facts were to go in succession into St. Peters at Rome, into a Coptic Church in Cairo, to attend a sacramental service in the Scottish Highlands, and to listen to a Salvation Army prayer meeting, he would be indeed puzzled to state clearly what was in very deed the original Christian system of doctrine and practice. This is exactly the case with Buddhism. Its worship, its doctrines, its organization are different, according as we study them in China or Ceylon, in Japan, or in Thibet. Even its doctrinal basis has frequently shifted. It is generally spoken of as a religion without God, and a moral creed based on atheism. With this I cannot agree. As far as I can get at the evidence as to what was the character and theology of original Buddhism it was not altogether atheistic, nor was its promised reward quite so featureless as the deep sleep of Nirvana seems to imply. Atheism is so repugnant to human nature that I never could understand how such a non-religion could grow and flourish. The soul cannot feed on negations. It was a relief to me to find that the more the subject is investigated the more human does Buddha's teaching seem to have been. The cold atheism of Buddhism was a subsequent growth, which was in reality the cause of that inherent weakness which resulted in its expulsion from India.
Second— It is exceedingly difficult for the matter-of-fact western mind to understand the mental position from which Buddha looked at things. He set himself, as we do, to puzzle out the awful problem of sin and suffering, but he started with the notion that sin and suffering are inseparable from living. He could not believe in a happy and blessed life either on earth or in the heavens. Life, that is conscious individual life, must therefore be got rid of, and a man must learn somehow to conquer desire and feeling and hope and ambition, and then he may drop into the bosom of the infinite, and be no more troubled by the curse of individuality. Remembering these initial difficulties we must proceed with caution and hold our opinions with modesty.

HINDU PROTESTANTISM.

Buddhism was an outgrowth of Brahminism— a sort of Indian Protestantism. It was a revolt of the more spiritual principles of higher Hinduism against the lower and more sacerdotal aspect of it. In some things it was like, in others exceedingly unlike, its parent. The Prince when he left his home became a "Yogi," just like those who may be met with to-day in Benares or Kalighat, but he did not remain one. He became a reformer, and preached against the entire priestly system, of the Brahmins. To understand him and his creed we must remember that he was brought up in the Hindu doctrine of the transmigration of souls. This curious delusion he never doubted. With him it was fundamental, and needed no proof. He believed that he himself had been on this earth many times, and that he had a dim memory of those days of a far-off past. This succession of births was the result of an iron ethical necessity, the outcome of the law of "Karma," which neither man, nor the gods, nor the demons could interfere with. When he set himself to find the light he really meant to discover how it was possible for a soul to get rid of its separate existence and pass into "Nirvana." His song of triumph, when he found the light sitting under the Bo-tree at Gaya, seems to us more like a song of despair. I quote it, as given by Sir Edwin Arnold, that my readers may judge for themselves : —
Many a house of life hath held me— seeking ever him who wrought
These prisons of the senses— fraught with sorrow;
Sore was my ceaseless strife.
But now, Thou builder of the tabernacle, Thou !
I know Thee ! never shalt Thou build again these
walls of pain,
Nor raise the roof-tree of deceit, nor lay
Fresh rafters on the clay;
Broken Thy house is, and the ridge-pole split !
Delusion fashioned it !
Safe pass I thence— deliverance to obtain.

How different this to St. Paul's hymn, " If the earthly house of this tabernacle be dissolved we have a building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens." So different in spirit are these two utterances that it is hard for either to understand the other.
The difference between Buddha and the Brahman priests now comes out plainly. They agree in their fundamental positions, but their pathways now diverge. The Hindu thought that by making proper use of the priests and by following their ritual he could buy the favour of the gods, and so come back to this world to live a less questionable life, or else go to one of the heavens. Buddha replied in effect — "That is no deliverance at all. Your heaven with the gods is only a temporary refuge. The soul must come back to earth some time or other. The gods, too, are passionate and cruel, and their heaven is not much better than this world. There is and can be no rest till the soul is set free from the awful fear of being born again, and sinks back into the unfeeling peace of "Nirvana." So it comes to pass that Buddha brushes aside the Brahmins and their gods because such a religion does not go deep enough, and says that each man must reach this rest for himself if at all. No brother man, no priest, no devil, no god can do it for him. He must make up his own mind to save himself. People often ask whether or no Buddhism is atheistic. The fact is Buddha never troubles himself about the gods: if they exist they are no better off than men are. He held to a belief in the one great vague Deity, who is the uncaused cause of all, and in whom he would rest at last ; but his published system was one of practical morality, whose end was to win deliverance from personality. He had, however, a heart of wondrous sympathy and kindness, but he had no heavenly friend to pray to, no external life to look forward to, and no divine heart to beat in sympathy with his own. His very kindness was an inconsistency, for pity and love are outbursts of personal life which sooner or later must be got rid of, as they cause a disturbing ripple on the ocean of inward peace. Buddha tells us how he attained Nirvana when he sat under the Bo-tree. To be consistent he ought then to have died, but, with a delicious violation of logic he felt so strong a pity for suffering humanity that he postponed his entrance into rest for many years that he "might preach deliverance and the unknown light." He lived within sight, as is were, of Nirvana, but for our sakes he would not enter in. It is this wonderful self-sacrifice which gives the life and character of Buddha such a mighty influence over his modern followers.

BUDDHISM A MORAL SYSTEM.

It will thus be seen that Buddhism is not, strictly speaking, a religion at all: it is a system of practical ethics. It is the deliberate adoption of certain moral maxims in order that a man may escape from personality and loosen the ties that bind him to life. If a man will abjure vice ; if he will deliberately set himself by kindliness and virtue to conquer all desire for life ; if he will crush out or overmaster all his passions, he will then be rewarded by passing away into a painless, dreamless, eternal sleep. The tough bubble of life will at last be burst and be absorbed into the ocean of deity. The moral maxims which Buddha preaches are excellent enough, but we cannot ignore the strange motive that upholds them. They are simply the steps by which a man climbs up or down to Nirvana. As a code of ethics they have been grafted into all sorts of creeds, have been wedded to atheism on the one hand and the worship of devils on the other ; have been compared with the teachings of Mohammed and Zoroaster and Jesus, but it is impossible to sever them from the mystical goal which they contemplate. Other systems aim at wellbeing ; this system aims at nonbeing.

THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.

Some of Buddha's moral maxims are, however, very noble. He, too, gave a law consisting of ten commandments. Let us glance at them, and I will quote from Sir Edwin Arnold's poem as the most pleasing presentment of them that I know.

1. Kill not for pity's sake, and lest ye slay
The meanest thing upon its upward way.
 

This is the Jewish command, "Thou shalt not kill," greatly amplified. As a merciful maxim it becomes, however, rather absurd when it comes to be applied to cobras, and mosquitoes and fleas, though doubtless, if one really did believe this doctrine, it would take away one's relish even for a dish of genuine Indian curry to think that one's great grand mother had been incarnate in the sheep which the butcher had killed and sold away in pieces, or that a fit of indigestion was the result of the spiteful toughness of a defunct enemy. A Buddhist abhors butchering, but his qualmishness stops with the operation of killing. If another man does that part of the business he will do the eating. I was told that some of them are fond of fish, and that they quiet their consciences by saying that they do not kill the fish ; they simply take them out of the wet and then they die of themselves, and that if they are hooked it is their own doing and not the fisherman's. In the recognised history of a great dedicatory feast in the time of the Emperor Asoka it is gravely asserted that "elks, wild hogs, and winged game came to the King's kitchen of their own accord and then expired," offering themselves to be eaten by the faithful.

2. The second maxim is —

Give freely and receive, but take from none
By greed, or force, or fraud what is his own.
 

With this maxim no one can find fault. In theory every one admits it and admires it, but it is one which very few have the courage to practice. It is opposed at once to all forms of robbery, commercial scheming, dishonest trading, and gambling. It cuts at the root of all greed, miserliness, and stinginess. It is equally opposed to injustice, to enforced socialism, and to anarchy. It would sweeten society by teaching it justice and kindness.

3. Bear not false witness, slander not, nor lie ;
Truth is the speech of inward purity. 

So runs the third maxim, and none can take exception thereto, not even if it were carried into every shop in Adelaide, pervaded every advertisement in the newspapers, dominated the share market, and inspired the debates in Parliament.

4. Shun drugs and drinks which work the wit abuse;
Clear minds, clean bodies need no somajuice.
 

True to this maxim the Buddhists are, for the most part, a sober people. I do not pretend, however, to explain how the Chinese reconcile their worship of Buddha with the existence of their opium dens, or the natives of Ceylon with their passionate craving for the betelnut or their liking for cocoanut toddy. 5. The last of these five maxims is nothing more or less than the tenth of Moses' Commandments, '"Commit no adultery or any uncleanness." For an Oriental teacher to conceive such a high idea of social purity is a notable achievement. It implies a notion of the dignity of womanhood such as we do not find in Brahminism. Under Buddhism woman is not deemed a mere slave of man. She is recognised as having rights as well as duties, and is considered as able as men "to enter the holy paths." But this command meant more than Christian chivalry and gallantly can endorse. The following conversation between Buddha and his disciple Ananda. will explain what he meant. If his advice had been carried out 2,000 years ago I am afraid there would have been no Buddhists at all to-day to perplex our ingenuity:—

" How are we to conduct ourselves, my lord, with regard to womankind ?"
"Don't see them, Ananda."
" But if we should happen to see them, what are we to do ?"
"Abstain from speech with them, Ananda."
" But if they should speak to us, lord, what are we to do ?"
" Keep wide awake, Ananda."
 

I have set forth the first five out of Buddha's ten moral precepts in the words of the poet. By treatment of this code is a good illustration of what I have before spoken of as the great fault of his poem, the "stippling of the negative." The code really consists of ten commands ; but Arnold omits the remaining five, not because they are bad or harmful, but because they are not asthetic. They would be ugly marks upon the ideal picture he has given us, and because not pretty must be "stippled out." These omitted inelegant commands are — 6. Do not eat after midday. 7. Thou shalt not attend the theatres nor adorn the body with flowers and perfumes. 8. Thou shalt not sleep on any soft material : nothing beyond a mat spread on the ground. 9. Thou shalt not use high seats or couches. 10. Thou shalt not wear gold or silver.
These ten commands were intended for the outside circle of Buddha's followers. There were very many more which were meant for his own band of disciples, his order of the yellow robe, his great army of monks. They are, however, all based on those I have already given, and for me to quote them would be a needless demand on the patience of casual readers.
It is often a surprise to people to be told that Buddhism, though an Indian religion, does not now exist in India, and that it has been utterly banished from the land that gave it birth. The reason for this will now be apparent. The Hindu system is based on two venerable and strong ideas which Gautama fought against — the first is priestism ; the second is caste. The privileges of the dominant party rested on these two foundations, and if they were undermined the superstructure was bound to fall. Though very successful at first the movement of Buddha provoked a ritualistic reaction. Priestism has a strange fascination for mankind in every clime, and India is no exception. And so it came to pass that by degrees the old Brahminism reasserted itself, and, partly by force, and partly by its assumption of sacerdotal authority, and partly by a policy of absorption, it completely obliterated Buddhism in India. Some of the Buddhist Assembly Halls were converted into Hindu shrines. others were neglected and allowed to fall into ruins, and the sacred literature of Gautama was forgotten. The reformer himself was raised to a sort of divine rank, and was called an incarnation of Vishnu, which was an innocent way of doing him homage, and made the reaction easier against his teaching. Mohammedanism also has done much to assist in absorbing Buddhism, for it was manifestly easier for a Buddhist to accept the monotheistic doctrine of the prophet than for a Hindu. This was especially the case in Bengal, and explains the existence there of such a number of Moslems, who do not even pretend to have any Arabian blood in them. However we may explain it the fact remains that if we would understand the creed of Buddha we must seek our information in the outer circle of countries into which its zealous missionaries carried his movement, and expect to find nothing of it in the land of its birth except some wonderful rock temples and some remains of its dagobas and shrines in the remoter regions of the interior.


South Australian Register (Adelaide, 1893,http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article48735516