Chapter V (6)

In the capital, or its suburbs, of the kingdom of Ava, where is the key-stone of the Talapoinic fabric, the _superlatively_ great master resides. His jurisdiction extends over all the fraternity within the realm of his Burmese majesty. His position near the seat of government, and his capacity of king’s master or teacher, must have at all times conferred upon him a very great degree of influence over all his subordinates. He is honoured with the eminent title of _Tha-thana-paing_, meaning that he has power and control over all that appertains to religion. It does not appear that peculiarly shining qualifications or high attainments are required in him who is honoured with such a dignity. The mere accidental circumstance of having been the king’s instructor when he was as yet a youth is a sufficient, nay, the only necessary recommendation for the promotion to such a high position. Hence it generally happens that each king, at his accession to the throne, confers the highest dignity of the order on his favourite Phongyie. In that case the actual incumbent has to resign the place to his more influential brother, and becomes an ordinary member of the fraternity, unless he prefers leaving the society altogether, and re-entering the lay condition. Great indeed is the respect paid by the king to the head Phongyie. When on certain days of worship he is invited to go to the palace and deliver some instructions to his majesty, the proud monarch quits the somewhat elevated place he occupies, and takes one almost on a level with that of the courtiers, whilst the venerable personage goes to sit on the very same carpet just vacated by the king. When he happens to go out and visit some monasteries or places of worship, he is generally carried on a gilt litter, in great state, attended by a large number of his brethren and a considerable retinue of laymen. During the passage, marks of the greatest respect are given by the people. The monastery he lives in is on a scale of splendor truly surprising. Its form and appearance are similar to that of other religious houses, but in variety and richness of decorations it surpasses them all. It is entirely gilt both inside and out; not only are the posts covered with gold leaves, but often they are inlaid with rubies, which I suppose are of the commonest description and of little value.

To confer an additional sacredness to his person and position, the _Tha-thana-paing_ lives by himself, with but one or two Phongyies, whom we may consider as his secretaries or major-domos, who remain in an apartment near to the entrance, to receive visitors and usher them into the presence of the great personage. Besides, there are lay guardians who take good care that not the least noise should ever disturb the silence of the place.

When the writer first visited that dignitary, he was much amused, on his approach to the place, to meet with those mute guardians, who by all sorts of signs and gestures were endeavouring to make him understand that he must walk slowly and noiselessly, and beware to speak aloud. When admitted to the presence of the Tsaya-dau, he was not a little surprised to find a man exceedingly self-conceited, who thought that to him alone belonged the right of speaking. His language was that of a master to whom no one was expected to presume to offer the least contradiction. He appeared quite offended when his visitor was compelled to dissent from him on certain points brought forward during the conversation. He was then about fifty years old. He was, for a Burman, of a tall stature, with regular and handsome features. The face was a little emaciated, as becomes a monk. His spiritual pride cast a darkish and unpleasant appearance on his person. He spoke quickly and sententiously; appearing all the while scarcely to notice his interlocutor. Admiration of self and vanity pierced through the thin veil which his affected humility spread over his countenance. The writer left him with an impression very different from that which a worthy English envoy, in the end of the last century, entertained of a similar personage, whose mild, benign, and pious exterior captivated him to such an extent as to elicit from him a request to be remembered in his prayers.

In our days, the power of the Tha-thana-paing is merely nominal; the effects of his jurisdiction are scarcely felt beyond his own neighbourhood. Such, however, was not the case in former times. Spiritual commissioners were sent yearly by him, to examine into and report on the state of the communities throughout the provinces. They had to inquire particularly whether the rules were regularly observed or not, whether the professed members were really well qualified for their holy calling or not. They were empowered to repress abuses, and whenever some unworthy brother, or _black sheep_, was found within the enclosure of a monastery, he was forthwith degraded, stripped of the yellow garb, and compelled to resume a secular course of life. Unfortunately for the welfare of the order, those salutary visits no more take place; the wholesome check is done away with. Left without a superior control, the order has fallen into a low degree of abjectness and degradation. The situation of Talapoins is often looked upon now as one fit for lazy, ignorant, and idle people, who, being anxious to live well and do nothing, put on the sacred dress for a certain time, until, tired of the duties and obligations of their new profession, they retire and betake themselves anew to a secular life. This practice, as far as my observation goes, is pretty general, if not almost universal. There are, however, a few exceptions. Though labouring under many serious disadvantages, the society continues to subsist with all its exterior characteristics; the various steps of its hierarchy are as well marked and defined now as they were before under more favourable circumstances. Its framework remains entire, but the materials composing it are somewhat imperfect and unsound.

There is in that religious body a latent principle of vitality, that keeps it up and communicates to it an amount of strength and energy that have hitherto maintained it in the midst of wars, revolutions, and political convulsions of all descriptions. Whether supported or not by the ruling power, it has remained always firm and unchanged. It is impossible to account satisfactorily for such a phenomenon, unless we find a clear and evident cause of such an extraordinary vitality; a cause independent of ordinary occurrences, time, and circumstances; a cause deeply rooted in the very soul of the populations, that exhibit before the observer this great and striking religious feature. That cause appears to be the strong religious sentiment, the firm faith that pervades the masses of Buddhists. The laity admire and venerate the religious, and voluntarily and cheerfully contribute to their maintenance and welfare. From its ranks the religious body is constantly recruited. There is scarcely a man that has not been a member of the fraternity for a certain period of time.

Surely such a general and continued impulse could not last long, unless it were maintained by a powerful religious conviction. The members of the order preserve, at least exteriorly, the decorum of their profession. The rules and regulations are tolerably well observed; the grades of hierarchy are maintained with a scrupulous exactitude. The life of the religious is one of restraint and perpetual control. He is denied all sorts of pleasures and diversions. How could such system of self-denial be ever maintained, were it not for the belief which the Rahans have in the merits that they amass, by following a course of life which, after all, is repugnant to nature? It cannot be denied that human motives often influence both the laity and the religious, but divested of faith and of the sentiments inspired by even a false belief, their action could not produce, in a lasting and persevering manner, the extraordinary and striking fact we witness in Buddhistic countries.

ARTICLE IV.

ORDINATION, OR CEREMONIES OBSERVED AT THE ADMISSION INTO THE SOCIETY.

We will now explain rather minutely, and describe as accurately as possible, the various ceremonies performed on the occasion of the promotion of a shyin to the rank of patzin, or professed member. It must be borne in mind that this ordeal through which he has to pass, or ordination, as we may aptly perhaps term it, which he has to receive, does not confer any peculiar character, or give any special spiritual power to the admitted candidate; but it merely initiates him to a more perfect course of life, and makes him the member of a society composed of men aiming at a higher degree of sanctity or perfection. The incumbent must be provided for the ceremony with a dress such as is used in the community; he must be found exempt from certain moral and physical defects that would render him unworthy of being admitted a member of the order; he must pledge himself to a rigorous observance of certain regulations which form the constitutions of the society.

The place where the ceremony is to be performed is a hall measuring at least twelve cubits in length, not including the space occupied by the Rahans whose presence is required on the occasion. The assembly of Phongyies, or Rahans, must include ten or twelve members at least if the ceremony be performed in towns, and four or six if it be in the country. He who presides over the ceremony is called Upitze, meaning master or guide; he has an assistant, named Cambawa Tsaia, whose office it is to read the sacred Cambawa, or book of ordination, to present the candidate to the Upitze and his assembled brethren, to put to him the requisite questions as prescribed by the ritual, and to give him instructions on certain points, the ignorance of which would prove highly prejudicial to and greatly offensive in a professed member of the order. All the regulations prescribed and the ceremonies observed on the occasion are contained in a book written in Pali, the sacred language. This book may be aptly termed the ritual of the Buddhists. It is held in great respect, and some copies written on sheets of ivory with gilt edges are truly beautiful, and bespeak the high value Buddhists set on the work. The copyists have retained the use of the old square Pali letters, instead of employing the circular Burmese characters. All the ordinances and prescriptions in this book are supposed to have been promulgated and sanctioned by no less an authority than Gaudama himself, the last Buddha and the acknowledged originator and founder of the Talapoinic order. Hence the high respect and profound veneration all Buddhists bear to its contents. The candidate, previously to the beginning of the ceremony, must be provided, as aforesaid, with his _patta_, or mendicant’s pot, and a _tsiwaran_, the clerical dress or monkish habit. The _patta_ is an open-mouthed pot of a truncated spheroidal form, wherein each member of the brotherhood must receive the alms which every morning he goes to collect in the streets.

The _tsiwaran_ or yellow[55] garment, the only dress becoming a Rahan, is composed first of a piece of cloth bound to the loins with a leathern girdle, and falling down to the feet; second, of a cloak of a rectangular form, covering the shoulders and breast and reaching somewhat below the knee; and, third, of another piece of cloth of the same shape, which is folded many times and thrown over the left shoulder, the two ends hanging down before and behind. Another article always required for completing the full dress of the Rahan is the _awana_, a sort of fan made of palm leaves, set in light oval-shaped wooden frame, with a serpentine handle, somewhat resembling in appearance the letter S.

The Burmese translator of the Pali text has interpolated his work with many remarks tending to elucidate the text, and to show the various motives and reasons that have induced Gaudama to decree and publish as obligatory the regulations laid down in the sacred Cambawa. It must be borne in mind, too, that the omission of some essential parts of the ceremonies annuls _de facto_ the ordination, whilst the non-compliance with others of minor importance, though not invalidating the act of admission into the sacred family, entails sin upon all members of the brotherhood assembled _ex officio_ for the ceremony. The reader must be prepared to observe many points of close resemblance between the ceremonies observed at the reception of a monk, or the ordination of a priest, and those performed in these parts on the solemn occasion of admitting a candidate to the dignity of Patzin.

The preparations for the solemnity being completed, and the assembled fathers having occupied their respective seats under the presidence of the Upitze, the candidate is introduced into their presence attended by the assistant or reader of the Cambawa, and carrying his patta and yellow garments. He is enjoined to repeat distinctly thrice the following sentence to the Upitze, kneeling down, and his body bent forward, with his joined hands raised to the forehead: “Venerable President, I acknowledge you to be my Upitze.” These words having been three times repeated, the assistant, addressing himself to the candidate, says: “Dost thou acknowledge this to be thy patta, and these thy sacred vestments?” To which he audibly answers, “Yes.”

Upon this the translator remarks that, on a certain day, a Rahan that had been ordained without being supplied with either _patta_ or _tsiwaran_ went out quite naked, and received in the palms of his joined hands the food offered to him. So extraordinary, one would have said so unedifying, a proceeding having been mentioned to Gaudama, he ordered that henceforward no Rahan should ever be ordained unless he had been previously interrogated regarding the patta and the vestments. Any disobedience to this injunction would entail sin on the assembled fathers.

The assistant having desired the candidate to withdraw from the assembly to a distance of twelve cubits, and the latter having complied with his request, he turns towards the assembled fathers and addresses them as follows: “Venerable Upitze, and you brethren herein congregated, listen to my words. The candidate who now stands in a humble posture before you solicits from the Upitze the favour of being honoured with the dignity of patzin. If it appears to you that everything is properly arranged and disposed for this purpose, I will duly admonish him. O candidate, be attentive unto my words, and beware lest on this solemn occasion thou utterest an untruth or concealest aught from our knowledge. Learn that there are certain incapacities and defects which render a person unfit for admittance into our order. Moreover, when before this assembly thou shalt be interrogated respecting such defects, thou art to answer truly, and declare what incapacities thou mayest labour under. Now this is not the time to remain silent and decline thy head; every member of the assembly has a right to interrogate thee at his pleasure, and it is thy bounden duty to return an answer to all his interrogations.”

“Candidate, art thou affected with any of the following complaints: the leprosy, or any such odious maladies? Hast thou the scrofula or other similar complaints? Dost thou suffer from asthma or coughs? Art thou afflicted with those complaints that arise from a corrupted blood? Art thou affected by madness or the other ills caused by giants, witches, or evil spirits of the forests and mountains?” To each separate interrogation he answers: “From such complaints and bodily disorders I am free.” “Art thou a man?” “I am.” “Art thou a true and legitimate son?” “I am.” “Art thou involved in debts?” “I am not.” “The bounden man and underling of some great man?” “No, I am not.” “Have thy parents given consent to thy ordination?” “They have given it.” “Hast thou reached the age of twenty years?” “I have attained it.”[56] “Are thy vestments and sacred patta prepared?” “They are.” “Candidate, what is thy name?” “My name is Wago,” meaning, metaphorically, a vile and unworthy being. “What is the name of thy master?” “His name is Upitze.”

The assistant, having finished the examination, turns his face towards the assembled fathers, and thus proceeds: “Venerable Upitze, and ye assembled brethren, be pleased to listen to my words. I have duly admonished this candidate, who seeks from you to be admitted into our order. Does the present moment appear to you a meet and proper time that he should come forward? If so, I shall order him to come nearer.” Then turning to the candidate, he bids him come close to the assembly and ask their consent to his ordination. The order is instantly complied with by the candidate, who, having left behind him the distance of twelve cubits that separated him from the fathers, squats on his heels, the body bending forward and the hands raised to his forehead, and says: “I beg, O fathers of this assembly, to be admitted to the profession of Rahan. Have pity on me; take me from the state of layman, which is one of sin and imperfection, and advance me to that of Rahan, a state of virtue and perfection.” These words must be repeated three times.

The assistant then resumes his discourse as follows: “O ye fathers here assembled, hear my words. This candidate, humbly prostrated before you, begs of the Upitze to be admitted into our holy profession; it seems that he is free from all defects, corporal infirmities, as well as mental incapacities, that would otherwise debar him from entering our holy state; he is likewise provided with the patta and sacred vestments; moreover, he has asked, in the name of the Upitze, permission of the assembly to be admitted among the Rahans. Now let the assembly complete his ordination. To whomsoever this seems good, let him keep silence: whosoever thinks otherwise, let him declare that this candidate is unworthy of being admitted.” And these words he repeats three times. Afterwards he proceeds: “Since, then, none of the fathers object, but all are silent, it is a sign that the assembly has consented; so, therefore, be it done. Let therefore this candidate pass out of the state of sin and imperfection into the perfect state of Rahan, and thus, by the consent of the Upitze and of all the fathers, let him be ordained.”

And he further says: “The fathers must note down under what shade, on what day, at what hour, and in what season the ordination has been performed.”

This being done, the reader of the sacred Cambawa adds: “Let the candidate attend to the following duties, which it is incumbent on him to perform, and to the faults hereafter enumerated, which he must carefully avoid.

“1. It is the duty of each member of our brotherhood to beg for his food with labour, and with the exertion of the muscles of his feet; and through the whole course of his life he must gain his subsistence by the labour of his feet. He is allowed to make use of all the things that are offered to him in particular, or to the society in general, that are usually presented in banquets, that are sent by letter, and that are given at the new and full moon and on festivals. O candidate, all these things you may use for your food.” To this he replies, “Sir, I understand what you tell me.”

The assistant resumes his instructions: “2. It is a part of the duty of a member of our society to wear, through humility, yellow clothes, made of rags thrown about in the streets or among the tombs. If, however, by his talents and virtue one procures for himself many benefactors, he may receive from them for his habit the following articles, cotton and silk, or cloth of red[57] and yellow wool.” The elect answers, “As I am instructed, so I will do.”

The instructor goes on: “3. Every member of the society must dwell in houses built under the shade of lofty trees.[58] But if, owing to your proficiency and zeal in the discharge of your duties, you secure to yourself powerful supporters who are willing to build for you a better habitation, you may dwell in it. The dwellings may be made of bamboo, wood, and bricks, with roofs adorned with turrets or spires of pyramidal or triangular form.” The elect answers: “I will duly attend to these instructions.”

After the usual answer, the instructor proceeds: “4. It is incumbent upon an elect to use, as medicine, the urine of the cow, whereon lime and the juices of lemon or other sour fruits have been poured. He may also avail himself, as medicines, of articles thrown out of bazaars and picked up in corners of streets. He may accept, for medicinal purposes, nutmegs and cloves. The following articles may also be used medicinally—butter, cream, and honey.”

Now the assistant instructs the new religious on the four capital offences he must carefully avoid, under penalty of forfeiting the dignity he has just attained to, and solemnly warns him against committing one of them. Those sins are fornication, theft, murder, and spiritual pride. The committing of one of these sins by religious after their ordination, in the days of Gaudama, induced him to declare those excluded _de facto_ from the society who had been guilty of such offences; and he enjoined that the assistant should immediately after the ceremony solemnly admonish the newly ordained Patzin carefully to shun such odious offences.

The assistant, without delay, proceeds as follows: “O elect, being now admitted into our society, it shall be no longer lawful for you to indulge in carnal pleasures, whether with yourself or animals. He who is guilty of such sin can no longer be numbered among the perfect. Sooner shall the severed head be joined again to the neck, and life be restored to the breathless body, than a Patzin who has committed fornication recover his lost sanctity. Beware, therefore, lest you pollute yourself with such a crime.

“Again, it is unlawful and forbidden to an elect to take things that belong to another, or even to covet them, although their value should not exceed about six annas (one-fourth of a tical). Whoever sins even to that small amount is hereby deprived of his sacred character, and can no more be restored to his pristine state than the branch cut from the tree can retain its luxuriant foliage and shoot forth buds. Beware of theft during the whole of your mortal journey.

“Again, an elect can never knowingly deprive any living being of life, or wish the death of any one, how troublesome soever he may prove. Sooner shall the cleft rock reunite so as to make a whole, than he who kills any being be readmitted into our society. Cautiously avoid so heinous a crime.

“Again, no member of our brotherhood can ever arrogate to himself extraordinary gifts or supernatural perfections, or, through vainglory, give himself out as a holy man; such, for instance, as to withdraw into solitary places, and, on pretence of enjoying ecstasies like the Ariahs, afterwards presume to teach others the way to uncommon spiritual attainments. Sooner may the lofty palm-tree that has been cut down become green again, than an elect guilty of such pride be restored to his holy station. Take care for yourself that you do not give way to such an excess.” The elect replies as before: “As I am instructed, so I will perform.” Here ends the ceremony. The elect joins the body of Rahans, and withdraws in their company to his own kiaong.

It has already been mentioned that this ceremony or ordination does not impart any spiritual character inherent in the person of the elect; but it is a mere formality he has to go through, to enter into the family of the perfect. The admitted member is not linked indissolubly to his new state; he is at liberty to leave it when it pleases him, and re-enter secular life. He may, moreover, if inclined, apply for re-admission into the order, but he must go through the same ceremonies that were observed on his first ordination. It is not very common to meet among the Burmese Rahans men who from their youth have persevered to an old age in their vocation. Those form the rare exceptions. They are very much respected, and held in high consideration during their lifetime, and the greatest honours are lavished upon their mortal remains after their demise. They are often designated by the honourable denomination of “pure from their infancy.”

ARTICLE V.

RULES OF THE ORDER.

The obligations inherent in the dignity of Patzin, and the multifarious duties prescribed to the Buddhist monks, are contained in a book called Patimauk, which is, properly speaking, the manual of the order, and the _Vade Mecum_ of every Talapoin, who is obliged to study it with great care and attention. It is even ordered that on festival days a certain number of recluses shall meet in a particular place called Thein, to listen to the reading of that book, or at least a part of it; that every brother should have always present to his mind the rules and regulations of his profession, and be prompted to a strict observance of all the points they enforce. This injunction is a very proper one, since it is a fact confirmed by the experience of ages that relaxation and dissipation find their way in all communities at the very moment the rules are partially lost sight of. So attentive to this duty are some Phongyies that they can repeat by heart all the contents of the Patimauk. We have read the book with a good deal of attention. Many wise and well-digested rules are to be met with here and there, but they are merged in a heap of minute, not to say ridiculous and childish, details, not worth repeating. In order, however, to give a correct and distinct outline of the mode of life, manners, habits, and occupations of the Talapoins, we will extract from it all that has appeared to be interesting and calculated to attain the above purpose, leaving aside the incongruous mass of useless rubbish.

Every member of the order, on his entering the profession, must renounce his own will and bend his neck under the yoke of the rule. So anxious indeed has been the framer of its statutes to leave no room or field open to the independent exertions of the mind, that every action of the day, the manner of performing it, the time it ought to last, the circumstances that must attend it, have all been minutely regulated. From the moment a Rahan rises in the morning to the moment he is to go to enjoy his natural rest in the evening, his only duty is to obey and follow the ever-subsisting will and commands of the founder of the society. He advances in perfection proportionately to his fervent compliance with the injunctions of, and to his conscientiously avoiding all that has been forbidden by, the sagacious legislator. The trespassing of one article of the rule constitutes a sin. The various sins a Rahan is liable to commit are comprised under seven principal heads. 1st, the Paradzekas; 2d, the Thinga-de-ceits; 3d, the Patzei; 4th, the Toolladzi; 5th, the Duka; 6th, the Dupaci; and 7th, the Pati-de-kani. These seven kinds of sins are subdivided and multiplied to the number of 227, which constitute the total amount of sins either of commission or omission that a Phongyie may commit during the time that he remains a member of the holy society. The Paradzikas are four in number: fornication, theft, killing, and vainglory in attributing to one’s self high attainments in perfection. A recluse, on the day of his admission, is, as before related, warned never to commit these four sins, under the penalty of being excluded from the society. They are irremissible in their nature. The meaning of this is, He who has had the misfortune of yielding to temptation, and committing one of these four offences, is no longer to be considered as a member of the Thanga, or of the assembly of the perfect. He is _de facto_ excluded from the society. He may exteriorly continue to be a member of the Thanga, but inwardly he really no longer belongs to it. All other offences are subjected to the law of confession, and can be expiated by virtue of the penances imposed upon the delinquent after he has made a public avowal of his sins.

The reader will no doubt be startled by the unexpected information that the practice of confession has been established among the Talapoins, and is up to this day observed, though very imperfectly, by every fervent religious. Some zealous Patzins will resort to the practice once, and sometimes twice a day. Here is what is prescribed on this subject in the Wini, or book of scriptures, which contains all that relates to the Phongyies, the Patimauk being but a compendium of it: when a Rahan has been guilty of a violation of his rule, he ought immediately to go to his superior, and, kneeling before him, confess his sin to him. Sometimes he will do this in the Thein, the place where the brothers assemble occasionally to speak on religious subjects or listen to the reading of the Patimauk in the presence of the assembly. He must confess all his sins, such as they are, without attempting to conceal those of a more revolting nature, or lessening aggravating circumstances. A penance is then imposed, consisting of certain pious formulas to be repeated a certain number of times during the night. A promise must be made by the penitent to refrain in future from such trespasses. This extraordinary practice is observed now, one would say, _pro forma_. The penitent approaches his superior, kneels down before him, and having his hands raised to his forehead, says: “Venerable superior, I do confess here all the sins that I may be guilty of, and beg pardon for the same.” He enters upon no detailed enumeration of his trespasses, nor does he specify anything respecting their nature and the circumstances attending them. The superior remains satisfied with telling him: “Well, take care lest you break the regulations of your profession; and henceforward endeavour to observe them with fidelity.” He dismisses him without inflicting any penance on him. Thus an institution, so well calculated to put a restraint and a check upon human passions, so well fitted to prevent man from occasionally breaking commands given to him, or at least from slipping into the dangerous habit of doing it, is now, by the want of fervour and energy in the hands of that body, reduced to be no more than an useless and ridiculous ceremony, a mere shadow of what is actually prescribed by the Wini.

The punishments inflicted for the repeated transgressions of one or several points of the rule are, generally speaking, of a light nature, and seldom or never corporeal, as flagellations, &c. The superior sometimes orders a delinquent to walk through the courtyard during the heat of the day for a certain time, to carry to a distance a certain number of baskets-ful of sand, or a jug of water. Meekness, being a virtue most becoming a recluse, forbids the resort to penances of a more severe nature.

Humility, poverty, self-denial, and chastity are to him who has received the order of Patzin cardinal and most essential virtues, which he ought to practise on all occasions. He must, in all his exterior deportment, give unequivocal marks of his being always influenced by the spirit they inspire. The framer of the rules and regulations of the order seems to have had no other object in view than that of leading his brethren by various ways and means to the practice of these virtues, and inculcating on their minds the necessity of attending to the observances prescribed for this purpose. It is from this point we must view the statutes of the fraternity in order to understand them well and rightly, and appreciate them according to their worth and merit. We would indeed form a very erroneous opinion of institutions of past ages if we were to examine them, to praise or blame them, without a due regard being paid to the spirit that guided the legislator, and to the object he aimed at when he laid them down. Our own ideas, customs, manners, and education will often dispose us to disapprove at first of institutions made in former ages, amongst nations differing from us in all respects, under the pretext that they are not such as we would have them to be now, making unawares our own prejudices the standard whereby to measure the merit or demerit of all that has been established previously to our own times. The institutions of the middle ages, a celebrated modern historian has said, are intelligible to him that has entered into the spirit of those days, and who thinks, feels, and believes as did the people of those bygone centuries. This observation holds good to a certain extent, and, _mutatis mutandis_, in respect to Buddhistic institutions. The whole religious system must be understood, the object which the founder of the order had in view ought to be distinctly remarked and always borne in mind, ere we presume to pronounce upon the fitness or unfitness of the means he has employed for obtaining it.

For humility’s sake every Talapoin is bound to shave every part of his body. In complying with this regulation he must consider that the hairs that are shaved off are useless things, serving merely for the purposes of vanity, and he ought to be as unconcerned about them as a great mountain which has been cleared of the trees on its summit. Influenced by the same spirit, the religious must always walk barefooted, except in case of his labouring under some infirmity, or for some other good reason; he is then allowed to use a certain kind of plain and unornamented slipper, the shape, colour, and dimensions of which are carefully prescribed by the rule. When the Rahans travel from one place to another, they are allowed to carry with them the broad fan, made of palm-leaves, and a common paper umbrella to protect their bare head from the inclemency of the weather, or screen it from the heat of the sun. Their dress, consisting, as above mentioned, of three parts, is as plain as possible. According to the Patimauk, each separate part must be made of rags picked up here and there, and sewed together by themselves. This regulation, though disregarded by many, is to a certain extent observed by the greater number, but in a manner rather contrary to the spirit, if not to the letter, of the rule. On their receiving from benefactors a piece of silk or cotton, they cut it into several small square parts, which they afterwards contrive to have stitched in the best way they can, so as to make their vestments according to the prescription of the statutes. The vestment ought to be of one colour, yellow in those countries in which Mahometanism does not prevail. The yellow colour is a mark of mourning, as the black is amongst most of the nations of Europe.

Seven articles are considered as essential to every member of the holy family, viz., the kowot, thin-bain, dugout (the three pieces constituting his vestment), a girdle, a patta, a small hatchet, a needle, and a small apparatus for straining the water he drinks. The entire number of articles he is permitted to use and possess amounts to sixty. They are all plain, common, almost valueless, offering no incentive to cupidity and leaving him who is only possessed of them in the humble state of strict poverty.

The possession of temporal goods is strictly forbidden to the Rahans, as calculated to hinder them from meditating upon the law and attending to the various duties of the profession. Nothing indeed opposes a stronger barrier to the attainment of the perfect abnegation of self and a thorough contempt for material things, than the possession of worldly property. Hence a true Rahan has no object which he can, properly speaking, call his own. The kiaong wherein he lives has been built by benefactors, and is supplied by them with all that is necessary or useful to him. Food and raiment are procured for him without his having to feel concerned about them. The pious liberality of his supporters assiduously provides for his wants. But it is expected that he shall never concern himself with worldly business or transactions, of whatever nature they may be. He can neither labour, plant, traffic, nor do anything with the intent of deriving profit therefrom. Agreeably to the maxim, “Sufficient to the day is the evil thereof,” the Rahan cannot make any stores for the time to come. He must trust in the never-failing generosity and ever-watchful attention of his supporters for his daily wants. Now, let it be said to the praise of the Buddhists, that he is seldom disappointed in the reliance he places on them.

That he may be more effectually debarred from a too easy and frequent use of the things of first necessity, a Talapoin is bound to go through a tedious ceremony, called Akat, or presentation, before he can lawfully touch anything. When he has occasion for food, drink, or anything else, he turns to his disciples and tells them to do what is lawful. Whereupon one of them, or several, as circumstances may require, rises from his place, and, taking the thing or things he wants with both hands, approaches him respectfully, and presents to him the articles, saying, This is lawful. Then the Rahan takes the things into his own hands, and uses them or lays them by, as may suit his convenience. When a thing is presented, the disciple must be at a distance of some cubits, otherwise the recluse is guilty of a sin; and if what he receives is food, he commits as many sins as he eats mouthfuls. Gold and silver being the two greatest feeders of covetousness, the rule forbids the Phongyies to touch them, and _a fortiori_ to have them. But on this point, however, human covetousness has broken through the strong barriers the framer of the statutes has wisely devised for effectually protecting recluses from its dangerous allurement. Gold and silver are not indeed touched by the pious devotees, but the precious and dazzling metals are conventionally handed to the disciples, who put them into the box of the superior, who, whilst bowing obsequiously to the letter of the rule, disregards its spirit. Sometimes an innocent _ruse_ is resorted to by a greedy religious for silencing the remorse of his conscience; he covers his hands with a handkerchief, and without scruple receives the sum that is offered to him. It would be unfair to pass a general and sweeping sentence of condemnation for covetousness upon all the members of the fraternity. There are some whose hands have not been polluted by the handling of money, and whose hearts have always been, we may say, strangers to the cravings of the _auri sacra fames_; but it cannot be denied that many among them are insatiable in their lust for riches, and not unfrequently ask for them.

No Rahan can ever ask for anything; he is allowed to receive what is spontaneously offered to him. In this point too the spirit of the rule is frequently done away with. The recluse will not ask an object he covets (I beg his pardon for making use of such a term) in direct words; but by some indirect means or circuitous ways he will give significantly to understand that the possession of such an object is much needed by him, and that the offering of it would be a source of great merits to the donor. In this manner he moves the heart of his visitor, and soon kindles in his breast a desire to present the thing, almost as eager as his own is to receive it.

Celibacy is strictly enjoined on every professed member of the society. On the day of his reception he is solemnly warned by the instructor never to do anything contrary to that most essential virtue. The founder of the order and the framer of its statutes has entered, on this subject, into the most minute details, and prescribed a multitude of regulations tending to fortify the Rahans in the accomplishment of the solemn vow they have made, and to remove from them all occasions of sin, even the most distant. We must give him credit for an uncommon acquaintance with the weakness of human nature, as well as with the violence of the fiercest passion of the heart, since he has laboured so much to strengthen and uphold the former, and bridle the latter by every means his anxious mind could devise. He was deeply read in the secrets of the human heart, and knew well that the surest tactics for carrying on successfully the warfare between the spirit and the flesh consist in rather avoiding carefully the encounter of the enemy, and skilfully manœuvring at a distance from him, than in boldly encountering him in the open field. Hence the repeated injunctions to shun all the occasions of sin.

The Phongyies are forbidden to stay under the same roof, or to travel in the same carriage and boat, with women; they cannot receive anything from their hands. To such a height are precautions carried that the religious are not permitted to touch the clothes of a woman, or caress a female child, however young, or even handle a female animal.[59]

When visited in their dwellings by women, who resort thither for the purpose of making offerings, or listening to the recital of a few passages of the sacred books, they must remain at a great distance from them, and be surrounded by some of their disciples. The Phongyies are to look upon the old ones as mothers and upon the young as sisters. The conversation must be as short as decency allows, and no useless or light expressions be ever uttered. On the festival days, when crowds of people, men and women, go to the kiaongs to hear the _tara_, or some parts of the law repeated, the Rahans, arrayed in front of the congregation, keep their fans before their faces all the while, lest their eyes should meet with dangerous and tempting objects. Much greater precautions are still required in their intercourse with the Rahanesses, a sort of female recluses, whose institute is greatly on its decline in almost all parts of Burmah. For better securing the observance of continence, a Phongyie never walks out of his monastery, or enters a private dwelling, without being attended by a few disciples. Popular opinion is inflexible and inexorable on the point of celibacy, which is considered essential to every one that has a pretension to be called a Rahan. The people can never be brought to look upon any person as a priest or minister of religion unless he live in that state. Any infringement of this most essential regulation on the part of a Rahan is visited with an immediate punishment. The people of the place assemble at the kiaong of the offender, sometimes driving him out with stones. He is stripped of his clothes; and often public punishment, even that of death, is inflicted upon him by order of government. The poor wretch is looked upon as an outcast, and the woman whom he has seduced shares in his shame, confusion, and disgrace. Such an extraordinary opinion, so deeply rooted in the mind of a people rather noted for the licentiousness of their manners, certainly deserves the attention of every diligent observer of human nature. Whence has originated among corrupted and half-civilised men such a high respect and profound esteem for so exalted a virtue? Why is its rigorous practice deemed essential to those who professedly tend to an uncommon degree of perfection? Owing partly to the weight of public opinion, and partly to some other reasons, the law of celibacy, externally at least, is observed with a great scrupulosity, and a breach of it is a rare occurrence. As the rule, in this respect, binds the Phongyie only as long as he remains in the profession, he who feels his moral strength unable to cope successfully with the sting of passion prefers leaving the fraternity and returning to a secular life, when he can safely put an end, by a lawful alliance, to the internal strife, rather than expose himself to a transgression which is to entail upon him consequences so disgraceful.

The sagacious legislator of the Buddhistic religious order, pre-occupied with the idea of elevating the spiritual principle above the material one, and securing to reason a thorough control over bodily appetites, has prescribed temperance as a fundamental virtue essential to every Rahan. In common with all their fellow-religionists, the Rahans are commanded to abstain from the use of spirituous liquors and of intoxicating substances. Such a prohibition is the wisest step that Gaudama could have adopted to preserve his followers from the shameful vice of drunkenness. All uncivilised people make use of spirits for the sole purpose of creating in them the effects of intoxication. Were it not for such an excellent regulation, the members of the Thanga would soon become, by their excesses, the laughing-stock of the laity. The time allotted for taking their meals extends from daybreak to the moment the sun has reached the middle of its course; but as soon as the luminous globe has passed the meridian, the use of food is strictly interdicted. A stomach, more or less loaded with nutritive substances taken in the evening, weighs down the body, enervates the energies of the soul, clouds the intellect, and renders a man rather unfit to devote himself to the high exercises of study, meditation, and contemplation, which ought to be the principal occupations of a fervent Rahan. He is allowed to make two meals in the forenoon, but it is expected that he will eat no more than is required to support nature. He must always take his meals in company with the members of his community. To stifle the craving of gluttony and eradicate immoderate desires, he ought to repeat frequently within himself the following sentence: “I eat this rice, not to please my appetite, but to satisfy the wants of nature;” just as he says when he puts on the habit, “I dress myself, not for the sake of vanity, but to cover my nakedness.” Rice and vegetables are, according to the statutes, the staple food of the Phongyies; the use of fish and meat is tolerated, and now it has become a daily prevailing custom which has rendered the practice a lawful one. Strictly speaking, a Talapoin must remain satisfied with rice and various sorts of boiled vegetables which he has received in his patta during his morning perambulations through the streets of the place.

As it happened among the Romans that the law repressing convivial sumptuousness and luxury proved an ineffectual barrier against gluttony and other passions, so amidst the Rahans the strict regulations prescribing a poor and unsavoury diet have been obliged to yield before the tendencies to satisfy the ever-increasing demands of appetite. Most of the Phongyies give to dogs, or to the boys who live in the monastery, the vulgar food they have begged in the streets, and feed on aliments of better quality supplied to them regularly by some persons in easy circumstances, who call themselves supporters of the kiaong and of its inmates. The ordinary fare consists of rice and several small dishes for seasoning the rice, in which are some little pieces of flesh, dressed according to the culinary abilities of the cooks of the country, which are not certainly of the highest order. To this are added some of the fruits of the season accompanied by sweetmeats, which female devotees are wont everywhere so carefully to prepare and so fondly to offer to those who are the objects of their pious admiration and respect. The aliments supplied to the humble recluses are of the best description for the country they live in. One would say that they live on the fat of the land. The most delicate rice and the finest fruits invariably find their way to the monasteries. But withal, the Phongyies are not to be charged with the sin of intemperance or gluttony.

The quantity of food they may take is also an object of regulation, as well as the very mode of taking, and even of swallowing it. Each mouthful must be of a moderate size; a second ought not to be carried to the mouth before the first has been completely disposed of by the masticatory process, and found its way down through the œsophagus. The contrary would be considered gluttony, and an evident sign that the eater has something else in view besides appeasing the mere wants of nature. It is rather an amusing sight to gaze at the solemn indifference of a Talapoin taking his meal. One would be tempted to believe that he is reluctantly submitting to the dire necessity of ministering to the wants of a nature too low and material. The rule forbids Talapoins to eat human flesh, or that of the monkey, snake, elephant, tiger, lion, and dog.[60] As a mitigation of the severity of the disciplinary regulation prohibiting the recluses from taking any food from twelve o’clock in the day until the next morning, the use of certain beverages is permitted during that time, such as cocoa-nut water, the juice of the sugar-cane, and other refreshing draughts.

The rule being silent regarding the consumption of the betel-leaf and other ingredients constituting the _delicious_ mouthful for masticatory purposes, the Talapoins avail themselves largely of the liberty left to them on this subject. The quantity of betel and other accompanying substances which they consume is truly enormous. These articles hold a pre-eminent place amongst the objects that are presented to the inmates of monasteries. The dark-red substance adhering to the teeth and occasionally accumulating at the corners of the mouth, the incessant motion of the lower jaw, the stream of reddish spittle issuing frequently from the lips of the Talapoins, are unquestionable proofs of both their ardent fondness and copious consumption of that harmless narcotic. Except during the short moments allotted for taking meals, a Rahan’s mouth is always full of betel, and the masticating or chewing process is incessantly going on.

A great modesty must distinguish a member of the family of the perfect from a layman; that virtue must shine forth in his countenance, demeanour, gait, and conversation. Any sign on his face indicating the inward action of anger or any other passion is found unbecoming in a person whose composedness and serenity of soul ought never to be disturbed by any inordinate affection. He never speaks precipitately or loudly, lest it might be inferred that passion rather than reason influences him. Worldly or amusing topics of conversation are strictly interdicted, either with his brethren or laymen. The rule requires him to walk through the streets with affected simplicity, avoiding hurry as well as slowness, keeping his eye fixed on the ground in front, looking not further than ten or fifteen cubits.