RELIGIOUS INFLUENCE OF THE PHONGYIES—RESPECT AND VENERATION PAID TO THEM BY THE LAITY.
When we speak of the great influence possessed by the religious order of Buddhist monks, we do not intend to speak of political influence. It does not appear that in Burmah they have ever aimed at any share in the management or direction of the affairs of the country. Since the accession of the house of Alomphra to the throne, that is to say, during a period of above a hundred years, the history of Burmah has been tolerably well known. We do not recollect having ever met with one instance when the Phongyies, as a body, have interfered in the affairs of the State. They also seem to remain indifferent to family or domestic affairs. The regulations they are subjected to, and the object which they have in view in entering the religious profession, debar them from concerning themselves in affairs that are foreign to their sacred calling. But in a religious point of view alone, their influence is a mighty one. Upon that very order hinges the whole fabric of Buddhism. From it, as from a source, flows the life that maintains and invigorates religious belief in the masses that profess that creed. We may view the members of the order as religious, and as instructors of the people at large, and principally of youth. In that double capacity they exercise a great control and retain a strong hold over the mind of the people.
There is in man a natural disposition and inclination to admire individuals who, actuated by religious feelings, are induced to leave the world and separate from society in order to devote themselves more freely to the practice of religious duties. The more society is corrupted, the more its members value those persons who have the moral courage to[304] estrange themselves from the centre of vice, that they may preserve themselves from contamination. In fact, religious are esteemed in proportion to the extent of the contempt they have for this world. The Phongyies occupy precisely this position in the eyes of their co-religionists. Their order stands in bold relief over the society they belong to. Their dress, their mode of life, their voluntary denial of all gratification of sensual appetites, centre upon them the admiring eyes of all. They are looked upon as the imitators and followers of Buddha; they hold ostensibly before ordinary believers the pattern of that perfection they have been taught so fondly to revere. The Phongyies are as living mementoes, reminding the people of all that is most sacred and perfect in practical religion. No one will deny that the view of a body of religious existing in a community, keeping an intercourse with its members, must ever have a powerful tendency to foster religious feelings in the mind of a half-civilised people as the Burmese are. It is in this manner that the Phongyies command the respect and veneration of the people, and exercise a considerable amount of religious influence over the masses.
But in the capacity of instructors of the people, the members of the order act as yet more directly and actively upon the people. In Burmah there are no schools but those kept by the religious. The monasteries are as so many little seminaries where male children receive elementary instruction. The knowledge that is imparted to them by their masters is not secular, but purely religious. It is a point upon which the undivided attention of a keen observer must be centred in order to understand the full meaning of the following remarks. We do not mean to say that the instructor has always present to his mind, as a professor, the direct teaching of religious tenets; but the fact is that no information is conveyed to the pupils except that which comes from religious books. No other books are ever used in schools.
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As soon as boys are able to read, religious books are put into their hands. During all the time they remain at school they go over books that have a direct reference to religion. Without even being aware of it, they imbibe religious notions, and become acquainted with some parts of the religious creed, particularly with what relates to Gaudama’s preceding and last existence. When they grow up to manhood, if they happen to read, they have, as a general practice, no other books but such as have a reference to religion. When people assemble together, either in the dzeats on the occasion of festival days, or at home on other public occasions, particularly in the days following the death of some relatives, one or several elders read some passage of their scriptures, and thereby supply topics for conversation of a religious turn. This state of things originates almost entirely in the early education received in the monasteries at the hands of their masters, the Phongyies. It powerfully contributes to popularise and foster religious notions, whilst it indirectly heightens and brightens in the eyes of the people the position of the religious.
Moreover, the early intercourse between the youth and their masters tends to bring into closer contact and union both the religious and the laity. It draws nearer the ties that bind together these two fractions of the Buddhist society. The relation thus established between the teachers and the taught is further strengthened by the fact that the greatest number of the male portion of the community become affiliated, during a longer or shorter period, to the society, and subjected to its rules and regulations; they are cast in the mould of religious, and retain during the remainder of their life some of the features that have been at an early period stamped on their young minds. Their memory remains loaded with all that they learned by heart during the days they spent in the monasteries as students or members of the society.
Though the Phongyies or Talapoins are not remarkable[306] for their zeal in delivering instructions or sermons to the people, they discharge occasionally that duty on the eve of and during festival days, and on all occasions when considerable offerings are brought to them in their monasteries. Sometimes, too, they are requested to go to certain places prepared for that purpose, to deliver instructions and receive offerings tendered to them by some pious laymen. The preaching never consists in expounding the text of the religious books, and developing certain points of the law; it is a mere rehearsal and repetition of the precepts of the law or of regular formulas in praise of Gaudama, and an enumeration of the merits to be gained by those who bestow alms on them. These and similar circumstances much contribute to keep up the position of the religious, and aid them in retaining a powerful religious hold over their respective communities. We repeat it as our deliberate opinion, that upon the religious association under consideration principally rests, as on a strong basis, the great fabric of Buddhism. Were such an institution to give way and crumble to the dust, the vital energies of that false creed would soon be weakened and completely paralysed. Buddhism would yield before the first attack that would be skilfully and vigorously directed against it.
In Burmah the Phongyies are highly respected by every member of the community. When they appear in public, walking in the streets, they are the objects of the greatest attention. The people withdraw before them to leave a free passage. Women are seen squatting on both sides of the way, through respect for the venerated personages. When visited in their dwellings, even by persons of the highest rank, the etiquette is that every visitor should prostrate himself three times before the head of the monastery, uttering the following formula:—“To the end of obtaining the remission of all the faults I have committed through my senses, my speech, and my heart, I make a first, second, and third prostration in honour of the three precious things—Phra, his law, and the assembly[307] of the perfect. Meanwhile, I earnestly wish to be preserved from the three calamities, the four states of punishment, and the five enemies.” To which the recluse answers:—“For his merit and reward, may he who makes such prostrations be freed from the four states of punishment, the three calamities, the five sorts of enemies, and from all evil whatsoever. May he obtain the object of all his wishes, walk steadily in the path of perfection, enjoy the advantages resulting therefrom, and finally obtain the state of Neibban.” On the visitor withdrawing from his presence, the three prostrations must be repeated; he then stands up, falls back to a distance of ten feet, as it would be highly unbecoming to turn the back suddenly on the holy man, wheels round on the right, and goes out. This usage is doubtless very ancient, and is at the same time looked upon as a very important one. In the Life of Gaudama we have seen it mentioned on all occasions when visitors went to pay their respects to him. Princes and nobles observed the ceremony with the utmost punctuality.
The best proof of the high veneration the people entertain for the Talapoins is the truly surprising liberality with which they gladly minister to all their wants. They impose upon themselves great sacrifices, incur enormous expenses, place themselves joyfully in narrow circumstances, that they might have the means to build monasteries with the best and most substantial materials, and adorn them with all the luxury the country can afford.[61][308] Gold is often profusely used for gilding the posts, ceiling, and other parts of the interior, as well as several trunks or chests for storing up manuscripts. Two or three roofs superposed upon each other (a privilege exclusively reserved to royal palaces, pagodas, and kiaongs) indicate to the stranger that the building is a monastery. The recluse’s house is well supplied with the various articles of furniture becoming the pious inmates. The individual who builds at his own expense such a house, assumes the much-envied title of Kiaong-taga, or supporter of a monastery. This title is for ever coupled with his name: it is used as a mark of respect by all persons conversing with him, and it appears in all papers or documents which he may have to sign. The best, finest, and most substantial articles, if allowed by the regulations as fit for the use of the Talapoins, are generously and abundantly afforded by benevolent persons. When the king is religiously inclined, the best and most costly presents he receives are deposited in the monasteries, to adorn the place or hall where the principal idol is.
Government does not interfere or give any assistance in building pagodas or kiaongs; nor does it provide for the support of the pious Rahans; but the liberality of the people amply suffices for all contingencies of the kind. When a man has made some profit by trading, or any other[309] way, he will almost infallibly bestow the best portion of his lucre in building a kiaong, or feeding the inmates of a religious house for a few months, or in giving general alms to all the recluses of the town. Such liberality, which is by no means uncommon, has its root, we believe, in a strong religious sentiment, and also in the insecurity—nay, the danger—of holding property to a large amount.
When a Talapoin is addressed by a layman, the latter assumes the title of disciple; and the former calls him simply Taga, or supporter. The attitude of the layman in the presence of the Phongyie is indicative of the veneration he entertains towards his person. He squats down, and he never addresses the yellow-dressed individual without joining his hands in token of respect, and raising them up with a little motion indicative of intended prostration. As there is in Burmah a court language, so there is a language, or rather a certain number of expressions, reserved to designate things used by Talapoins, as well as most of the actions they perform in common with other men, such as eating, walking, sleeping, shaving, &c. The very turn of the commonest sentence is indicative of respect when speaking to a Rahan. He is called Phra, the most honourable term the language can afford. His person is sacred, and no one would dare to offer him the least insult or violence. The influence of the Talapoin upon the people is considerable, in proportion to the great respect borne to his sacred character. So extraordinary has it been on certain occasions, that Phongyies have been seen rescuing forcibly from the hands of the police culprits on their way to the place of execution. No resistance, then, could be made by the policemen without exposing themselves to the danger of committing a sacrilege, by lifting their hands against them when such an occurrence takes place. The liberated wretches are then forthwith led to the next monastery. Their heads having been shaved, they are attired in the yellow garb, and their persons become at once sacred and inviolable.
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The veneration paid to Talapoins during their lifetime accompanies them after their death. Their state is considered as one of peculiar sanctity. It is supposed that their very bodies too partake of the holiness inherent in their sacred profession. Hence their mortal remains are honoured to an extent scarcely to be imagined. As soon as a distinguished member of the brotherhood has given up the ghost, his body is opened, the viscera extracted and buried in some decent place without any particular ceremony, and the corpse embalmed in a very simple manner by putting ashes, bran, and other desiccative substances into the abdominal cavity. It is then swathed with bands of linen, wrapped round it many times, and a thick coat of varnish laid upon the whole. On this fresh varnish gold leaves are sometimes placed, so that the whole body is gilded over from head to feet. When the people are poor and cannot afford to buy gold for the above purpose, a piece of yellow cloth is considered as the most suitable substitute. The body, thus attired, is laid in a very massive coffin, made, not with planks, but of a single piece of timber hollowed in the middle for receiving the earthly frame of the deceased. A splendid cenotaph, raised in the centre of a large building erected for the purpose, is prepared to support a large chest wherein the coffin is deposited. The chest is often gilt inside and out, and decorated with flowers made of different polished substances of various colours. Pictures, such as native artists contrive to make, are disposed round the cenotaph. They represent ordinarily religious subjects. In this stately situation the body remains exposed for several days, nay several months, until preparations are completed for the grand day of the obsequies. During that period festivals are often celebrated about it, bands of music play, and people resort in crowds to the spot for the purpose of making offerings to defray the expense to be incurred for the funeral ceremony. When the appointed day for burning the corpse at last arrives, the whole population of[311] the town will be seen flocking in their finest dresses to witness the display of fireworks which takes place on the occasion of burning the corpse. A funeral pile of a square form is erected on the most elevated spot. Its height is about fifteen feet, and it ends with a small room made for receiving the coffin. The corpse having been hoisted up and laid in the place destined for its reception, fire is set to the pile in a rather uncommon way. An immense rocket, placed at a distance of about forty yards, is directed towards the pile by means of a fixed rope guiding it thereto. Sometimes the rocket is placed on a huge cart, and pushed in the direction of the pile. In its erratic and uncertain course it happens occasionally that it deviates from its course, and plunges into the ranks of the crowd, wounding and killing those it meets. As soon as it comes in contact with the pile, the latter immediately takes fire by means of combustibles heaped for that purpose, and the whole is soon consumed. The few remaining pieces of bones are religiously collected, and buried in the vicinity of some pagoda. Here ends the profound veneration, amounting almost to worship, which Buddhists pay to their recluses during their life and after their demise.
Two chief motives induce the sectaries of Buddha to be so l............