Note 17 — Chapter II

The founder of Buddhism shows himself on this particular subject a consummate moralist. He who could have spoken as he did on this truly delicate point must have been deeply versed in the knowledge of human nature, and thoroughly acquainted with its frailties and weaknesses. Buddha desired to maintain the members of the assembly in a state of spotless purity. To attain that desirable object he raised the strongest barrier against the wildest passion of the heart. No virtue, in his opinion, can withstand the incessant assaults directed against it by daily and familiar intercourse with persons of another sex. He would have, if possible, the inmate of a cell in a monastery out of the reach of temptation itself; he knows that the best tactics against such an enemy do not consist in boldly meeting the adversary, but rather in carefully avoiding encounter with him, manœuvring in such a way as to keep far from him. Hence idle conversations with female visitors are not only forbidden in a most positive manner, but the very sight of women is to be, if possible, avoided. When duty shall oblige a recluse to come face to face with the enemy, it is his bounden obligation to keep at as great a distance from female visitors as practicable. The subject of the conversation ought to be of a purely religious character; some portions of the law may be expounded, doubts of conscience may be proposed, and a solution given to them, &c. On such occasions the spiritual adviser is never to be left alone, but he must be surrounded by some of his brethren or disciples, at all times very numerous in the monasteries.

It is not without interest to place one’s self in the centre of the Buddhistic system, and examine therefrom the motives that have induced Buddha to enjoin celibacy on all the members of the assembly, and enforce it with the utmost rigour by all the means that the profoundest moralist could devise.

The philosophy of Buddhism has for its primary object to lead man into the way of freeing himself from the influence produced upon the soul by exterior objects, through the medium or channel of the senses. That influence sets in motion the various passions which darken the intellect and trouble the heart, opposing an insuperable barrier to the acquirement and intuition of truth, and to the progress towards the state of quiescence, so ardently coveted and longed for by every true Buddhist. No one is ripe for the state of Neibban as long as he retains affection for things without self. The last and greatest effort of wisdom is the emancipation of self from every possible influence created and produced by objects or things distinct from self. Concupiscence, as the meaning of the word implies, is that disposition of the soul to search after, long for, and cleave to things placed without self. Such a disposition is diametrically opposed to the perfect independence aimed at by a perfect Buddhist, and leads to results the very reverse of those to be arrived at; it retains man in the vortex of never-ending existences, and precludes him from the possibility of ever reaching the state of Neibban. Concupiscence, taken in a more restricted and limited meaning, signifying the propensity to the indulgence of sensual pleasures by the union of sexes, must ever prove the greatest obstacle in the way leading to perfection, inasmuch as it fosters in men the strongest affection to external objects.

Buddha is great, in his own opinion, because he has conquered all passions, not by curbing them under the yoke of reason, but by rooting them out of his very being. When he wished to become an ascetic, he practised at first self-renouncing, not merely by giving up riches, palaces, dignities and honours, but chiefly and principally by denying to himself and for ever the enjoyment of sensual pleasures. A firm and unshaken resolution of parting for ever with his wife and concubines, and living in a perpetual celibacy, was considered as a preliminary and essential step for entering upon the course of life of a sincere searcher after truth and perfection. During the six years he spent in solitude, he laboured with unremitting zeal for securing to the spiritual principle an undisputed control over the material one, by stifling the vehemence and ardour of his passions. His austerities and mortifications during that long period had no other object than that of first weakening and then finally destroying passions, and in particular concupiscence. When he is praised in the writings, he is much extolled for having come out from the net of passions. His victory over concupiscence is repeatedly alluded to as the greatest of all achievements. The master, therefore, having laid such stress on this favourite and important maxim, could not but preach and enjoin it on all his future imitators and disciples. The earliest records of Buddhism bear testimony to the paramount importance attached to the practice of chastity. It has ever been considered as an essential requirement in all those that have desired to follow the footsteps of Buddha and imitate his mode of life. No qualification, ever so great and shining, could be admitted as a substitute for chastity. Science, talent, zeal, and fervour could never entitle an individual to the distinction of member of the assembly of the perfect without having previously given up the gratification of sensual pleasures. Independently of what is found written on this subject in the Wini, or book of discipline, the opinion of the Buddhist public is on this subject positive, universal, and absolute. He who leaves the condition of layman to become a religious must live in a state of perfect continence. An infraction of the regulations on this point is looked upon with horror and indignation by the people at large. The guilty individual is inexorably expelled from the religious house, after having been previously stripped of his religious dress and subjected to a humiliating degradation in the presence of the assembled members of the community. Nothing short of such a severe treatment could satisfy a public so deeply hurt and offended in their religious feelings. How is it that the practice of perfect continence is not merely a desideratum in an individual consecrated to religion, but an absolutely required qualification, which can never be equivalently supplied by any other moral or scientific attainment? How is it that such a notion is universally adhered to by nations noted for the undoubted laxity of their morals? Can a notion so generally believed and so tenaciously retained, in spite of its direct opposition to the wildest and the dearest passion of the heart, be ever called a prejudice? Is it possible to trace its connection with some of the noblest feelings of our nature and the most refined ideas of our mind? To a superficial and biassed observer, many things appear contradictory and irreconcilable, which a serious, acute, and dispassionate inquirer after truth readily comprehends, easily connects and accounts for, and satisfactorily reconciles one with the other.