ARTICLE I.

 A SHORT PARALLEL BETWEEN THE BRAHMINICAL AND THE BUDDHISTIC RELIGIOUS ORDERS.
 
It has been stated, on apparently incontrovertible grounds, in the foregoing pages, that Buddhism has originated to a considerable extent from Brahminism. The following remarks will corroborate the statement, and give an additional weight to the reasons already brought forward. In fact, both systems have the same objects in view, viz., the disentangling of the soul from passions and the influence of the material world, and its perfect liberation from metempsychosis and the action of matter. The final end to be arrived at is, however, widely different. The perfected Brahmin longs for his absorption in the infinite being; the perfect Buddhist thirsts after a state of complete isolation, which is nothing short of total annihilation. But the means for obtaining the ardently coveted perfection are in many respects the same. The moral observances enforced by both creeds differ so little from each other that they appear to be almost identical. In both systems, moreover, we find a body of individuals who aim at a complete and perfect observance of the highest injunctions, striving to reach the very summit of that perfection pointed out by the founders of their respective institutions: these are the Brahminical and Buddhist religious. To glance over the regulations enjoined on the Brahmins, such as we find them in the Institutes of Menoo, and those prescribed by the Wini to the Talapoins, cannot fail to be truly interesting. A summary comparison will enable the reader to perceive at once how closely allied are the two creeds, and how great is the resemblance between them both. He will see on the clearest evidence that to Buddha is not to be ascribed the merit of having originated so many fine moral precepts[245] and admirable disciplinary regulations, but that he found in his own country, in the schools where he studied wisdom, already well-known, pure moral precepts, actually discussed, studied, and by many strictly observed, together with the disciplinary regulations. He was brought up in a society which beheld with astonishment and admiration a body of religious men entirely devoted to the great work of securing the triumph of the spiritual principle over the material one, and endeavouring by dint of the greatest and severest austerities, the most rigorous penances, and the most entire renouncing of all this material world, to break down the material barriers that had hitherto kept the soul captive, and prevented her from taking her flight into regions of blissful freedom and perfect quiescence. There is, however, a remarkable difference between the sacerdotal caste of Brahmins and the members of the Buddhist monkish institution. The position of the former is hereditary; he is rendered illustrious by his lineage and descent. That of the second is personal, and ends with him; it is the result of his own free choice; he derives all the glory that shines round him from his virtuous life and a strict adherence to the institutions of the Wini. The Brahmin owes everything to religion and to birth. The Buddhist religious is indebted for all that he is solely to religion; the monk’s title to distinction is the holy mode of the saintly life that he has embraced. Both are the greatest and most distinguished in their respective societies; but merit and intrinsic worth alone elicit veneration and respect in behalf of the humble religious, whilst the casual birth of the Brahmin from individuals belonging to the highest caste centres upon his person the reluctant homage of men belonging to inferior castes, who, in virtue of the prejudices in which they are reared, consider themselves obliged to do homage to him. The person of both is sacred and looked upon with awe and veneration, but from somewhat opposite and different motives.
 
Notwithstanding these and many other differences and[246] discrepancies, it is not the less striking to find in the Brahminical body, such as it is constituted by the regulations of the Vedas, the germ of all the principal observances enjoined on the Buddhist that leaves the world, to follow the path leading to perfection.
 
The life of a Brahmin, not as it is now, but as it originally was, and now ought to be, if the regulations of the Vedas had not been partly set aside, is one of laborious study, austerity, self-denial, and retirement. The first quarter of his life is spent in the capacity of student. His great and sole object is the study of the Vedas, and the mastering of their contents. Worldly studies are not to be thought of. He is entirely under the control of his preceptor, to whom he has to yield obedience, respect, and service in all that relates to his daily wants. He must, moreover, daily beg his food from door to door. The Buddhist novice likewise withdraws from his family, enters the monastery, lives under the discipline of the head of the house, whom he obeys and serves in his daily necessities, and devotes all his undivided attention to the study of religious books. He pays no regard to worldly knowledge. He has likewise to go out every morning to beg the food that he will use during the day.
 
The second quarter of the Brahmin’s life is thus employed. He marries and lives with his family, but he must consider his chief employment to be the teaching of the Vedas and a zealous discharge of the religious observances and of all that relates to public worship. He must sedulously abstain from too sensual and worldly enjoyments, even from music, dancing, and other amusements calculated to lead to dissipation. The Buddhist monkish institution being not hereditary, and its continuance and development having not to depend upon generation, its members are bound to a strict celibacy, and to an absolute and entire abstinence from all sensual and worldly enjoyments inconsistent with gravity, self-recollection, and self-denial.[247] Their chief occupation is teaching to children the rudiments of reading and writing, that they might read religious books, which are the only ones used in schools. He must pay a strict regard to devotional practices, and take care that the religious observances and ceremonies be regularly attended to in his monastery.
 
The third quarter of his life is spent by the Brahmin in solitude as an anchorite. He dwells in the forests, where he must procure what is necessary for food and raiment. The latter article is looked after when he thinks it to be a requisite to cover his nakedness. With many of them fanaticism has so far prevailed over reason and the sense of decency that they live in a state of disgusting nakedness. The roots of plants, the fruits and leaves of wild trees, will supply the needful for the support of nature. That time too must be devoted to the infliction of the severest penances and to the practice of the hardest deeds of mortification. To the Buddhist monk solitude and retirement must ever be dear. Ascetic life is much recommended, and praised as most excellent. It was formerly much in use among religious Buddhists. In Burmah several places are pointed out with respect as having been sanctified by the residence of holy anchorites. Now in our days a few zealots, to bear, as it were, witness to this ancient observance, retire into solitude during a portion of the three months of Lent. The spirit of mortification and self-renouncing is eminently Buddhist; but from the very days of Gaudama we remark a positive tendency on the part of his religious to give up and renounce those unnatural and ultra-rigorous penances regularly observed by their brethren of the opposite creed. The principle is cherished by them, but the mode of carrying it into practice is more mild, and more consonant with reason and modesty.
 
The last portion of the Brahmin’s life is devoted likewise to meditation and contemplation. He is no more subjected to the ordeal of rigorous penances; nature has been subdued; passions silenced and destroyed; the soul has[248] obtained the mastery over the body and the material world. She is free from all the trammels and obstacles that impeded her contemplation of truth. She is ready to quit this world, as the bird leaves the branch of the tree when it pleases him. The Buddhist religious, having likewise crushed his passions and disentangled his soul from affection to matter, delights only in the contemplation of truth. As the mighty whale sports in the bosom of the boundless ocean, so the perfected Buddhist launches forth into abstract and infinite truth, delights in it, completely estranged from this world, which meditation has taught him to consider as a mere illusion, as destitute of reality. He is then ripe for the so ardently coveted state of Neibban.
 
When Buddha originated the plan of a society of religious, and framed the regulations whereby it was to be governed, he had but to look around him for patterns of a religious life. The country where he had been born, the society in which he had been brought up, swarmed with religious following the different systems of philosophy prevailing in those days. He saw them, conversed with them, and for some time lived in their company under the same disciplinary institutions. He was, therefore, thoroughly conversant with all that in his days constituted a religious life. But the same bold and enterprising spirit which made him dissent from his masters and contemporaries on many important questions of morals and metaphysics, and induced him to improve, as he thought, and perfect theories in speculative and practical philosophy, impelled him also to do something similar respecting the disciplinary regulations to which his religious were to be hereafter subjected. We freely confess that on this latter point he was eminently successful. The body of Buddhist religious is infinitely superior in most respects to the other societies of Indian religious. The regulations of the former breathe a spirit of modesty, mildness, and unaffectation, which in a striking manner contrasts with those disgusting exhibitions[249] of self-inflicted penances so fondly courted by Brahmins, where immodesty seems to dispute the palm with cruelty. Buddha opened the door of his society to all men without any distinction or exception, implicitly pulling down the barriers raised by the prejudices of caste. Did he in the beginning of his public career lay down the plan of destroying all vestiges of caste, and proclaiming the principle of equality amongst men? It is, to say the least, very doubtful. The equalising principle itself was never distinctly mentioned in his discourses. But he had sown all the elements constitutive of that principle in his instructions. Every member put on the religious dress of his own free choice, and set it aside at his pleasure; no hereditary right, therefore, could be thought of; the dying religious could bequeath to his brethren but the example of his virtues. His complete separation from the world had broken all the ties of relationship. The double vow of strict poverty and of celibacy, cutting the root of cupidity and sensual enjoyments, precluded him from aiming at the influence and power which is conferred by wealth and rank. With the Brahminical religious the case is the very reverse. His sacerdotal caste, exclusive of his personal merits, confers on him an almost divine sacredness, which is to be propagated by generation. He may possess riches and have a numerous posterity. He is, therefore, almost irresistibly impelled to seize on a power which is forced on him by the treble influence of birth, religion, and wealth.
 
The subject of the comparison between the two societies of religious might receive further developments, but what has been briefly stated appears sufficient to bear out the point it was intended to establish, viz., the close resemblance subsisting between the two religious orders in both systems, and the necessary inference that the order of Buddhist religious is an improvement on the orders of religious subsisting in India in the days of Gaudama.
 
There is another characteristic of the religious order of[250] Buddhists which has favourably operated in its behalf, and powerfully contributed to maintain it for so many centuries in so compact and solid a body that it seems to bid defiance to the destructive action of revolutions. We allude to its regularly constituted hierarchy, which is as perfect as it can be expected, particularly in Burmah and Siam. The power and influence of him whom we may call the general of the order in Burmah, and who is known under the appellation of Tha-thana-paing, when, as was very often the case, backed by the temporal power, was felt throughout the whole country, and much contributed to maintain good order and discipline in the great body of religious. The action of the provincial or superior of the religious houses of a province is more directly and immediately felt by all the subordinates. It does not appear that the religious of the Hindu schools, at least in our days, possess such an advantage that they may well envy their brethren of the Buddhist sect. The members of the Brahminical body are not kept together by the power and government of superiors, but by regulations that are so deeply rooted and firmly seated in the mind of individuals that they are faithfully observed. The superiority of caste, connected too with a certain amount of spiritual pride, has been hitherto sufficient to maintain that body distinct and separate from all that is without itself. The religious spirit that pervades that body in our days seems to have abated from its original fervour and energy. The Brahmin has maintained with the utmost jealousy the superiority that caste confers upon him, but appears not to have been so particular in keeping up the genuine spiritual supremacy, which a strict adherence to the prescriptions of the Vedas must have ever firmly secured to him.