and offices. His demonology wanted perspicuity and contained too many palpable absurdities to be generally received. Some of the emperors, though declaring themselves believers in Taouism, could never introduce a general acquiescence in doctrines which no one understood. China wanted a creed which every man might understand; and the Budhists supplied the desideratum;—accommodating their doctrines to all existing superstitions, they opened the door to every description of convert, who might retain as many of his old prejudices as he chose: they were not rigorous in enforcing the obligations of morality; to expiate sins, offerings to the idols and priests were sufficient. A temple built in honour of any idol and richly endowed, would suffice to blot out every stain of guilt and serve as a portal to the blessed mansions of Budha. When death approached, they promised to each of their votaries, speedy promotion in the scale of metempsychosis until he should be absorbed in Nirupan or Nirvana—nonentity. With these prospects, the poor deluded victim left the world. To facilitate his release from purgatory, the ghostly hypocrites said mass, and supplied the wants of the hungry departed spirit with rich offerings of food, of which the latter enjoyed only the odour, while the priests devoured the substance. As Confucius had raised the veneration for ancestors into idolatrous worship, these priests were ready to perform their pious offices before the tablets of the dead. Thus they became ingratiated with the credulous multitude, who were too happy to avail themselves of their cheap services. But notwithstanding the accommodating spirit of their creed, the Chinese government has at times disapproved of it. As the sanctity of marriage has been acknowledged in China from time immemorial and almost every person at years of maturity has been obliged to enter into that state, the celibacy of the priesthood of Budha was considered as a very dangerous custom.
Budha regarded contemplation and exemption from worldly cares, as the nearest approach to bliss; his followers, therefore, in imitation of their master, passed and inculcated lives of indolence, and practised begging, as the proper means of maintaining themselves. This mode of livelihood was diametrically opposed to the political institutions of China, where even the emperor does not disdain to plough. It was also in opposition to the actual condition and wants of the people; a system of idleness, in the immense population of the empire, would have been followed by actual starvation, and a consequent serious diminution in the number of inhabitants; for it is by the utmost exertion that they are able to subsist. These serious objections to the foreign creed, furnished its enemies with weapons by which to destroy it. It was proscribed as a dangerous heresy, and a cruel persecution followed; but it had taken too deep root to be easily eradicated. Among some of the emperors too, it found abettors and disciples. Yet it never became a religion of the state, nor were its priests ever able to exercise any permanent influence over the populace. The Chinese are too rational a people to believe, implicitly, all the Budhistic fables, nor can they persuade themselves that the numerous images are gods. When we add to this, their national apathy towards every thing connected with religion, they being entirely engrossed with the things of this life, we can easily account for their disesteem of Budhism. Nor can we wonder that they worship at one time, the divinities they despise at another, for ancient custom bids them follow in the track of their ancestors, without inquiry or doubt, even when they cannot but ridicule its absurdities.
The priests of Budha are a very despised class, and spring chiefly from the lowest and most ignorant of the people. Their morals are notoriously bad, and pinching poverty has made them cringing and servile. They wander abroad in search of some trifling gift, and often encounter a very harsh refusal.
Those temples which are well endowed by their founders, are crowded with priests, so that only a few among the higher orders of them can be rich. Stupidity, with a few exceptions, is their reigning characteristic; neither skill nor learning is to be found among them. Budha seems to have intimated that stupidity brings the votary nearer to the blissful state of apathy, and therefore a knowledge of his institutions is considered as the only requisite to form an accomplished priest. The Budhists have no schools or seminaries, for the instruction of their believers, seldom strive for literary honours, and are even excluded from the list of candidates, so long as they remain priests. Few among them are serious in the practice of their own religion; they are in the most complete sense of the words, sullen and misanthropic, and live a very secluded life. But religious abstraction and deep contemplation, with utter oblivion of existence, appear to be out of vogue. The halls of contemplation are the haunts of every vice. Such effects must follow where the mind is unoccupied, and the hands unemployed in any good work. The nuns are less numerous and more industrious than the priests. It is a general observation that nearly all the temples of Budha are in a dilapidated state; the contributions of devotees not meeting the expenses of repairs. These erections are very numerous; there is scarcely a small village that has not one, and few romantic and beautiful spots can be found free from these seats of idolatry.
The similarity of the rites of this superstition with those of papacy, are striking: every one who visits the monasteries can at once discover the resemblance. That they should count their prayers by means of a rosary, and chant masses both for the living and the dead, live in a state of celibacy and shave their hair, &c., might perhaps be accounted for by a mere coincidence of errors into which men are prone to fall; but their divine adoration of Teenhow, “the queen of heaven,” must be a tenet engrafted upon Budhism from foreign traditions. We are unable to fix the exact period at which this deity was adopted. There is a legend of modern date among the people of Farh-keen, which tells us that she was a virgin of that province, who, in a dream, saw her kindred in danger of being wrecked, and boldly rescued them; but this affords no satisfactory solution; neither is “the queen of heaven,” among the deities which the Siamese Budhists worship, though they possess the whole orthodox code of demons. It is probable that some degenerate Nestorian Christians amalgamated with their faith and ceremonies, the prevailing errors of China, and persuaded the priests of Budha to adopt many of their rites.
Though the Siamese priesthood resembles the papal clergy, it does not exhibit so striking a similarity as the Chinese. Moreover, the Budhists of China have received all the sages which have been canonized by the emperors or by public credulity. Mr. Gutzlaff says he saw, in one instance, a marble bust of Napoleon, which they had placed in a temple, and before which they burned incense; hence it would not be surprising if they had also adopted among their gods so conspicuous an object of worship as the “virgin,” who was adored by so many millions of Christians. The present dynasty seems to have declared itself in favour of the great Da-lai-lama of Thibet. As the Mongols on the northern frontier are much devoted to the rites of Shamanism, and worship its presiding deity, it was perhaps with a view to conciliate the good will and keep in subjection these wild hordes, that the preference was manifested. The religion of these barbarians being a modification of Budhism, we might expect that the Chinese government would equally extend its benevolence to the Budhist of China. Such does not appear to be the fact; they are tolerated but receive no stated support from the government; to some temples the emperors may extend his individual charity, but this is not governmental patronage. If the high offices of the state occasionally favour this sect, they never openly avow it; such a disclosure would derogate from their fame and expose them to the ridicule of their colleagues. In the midst of all these difficulties a numerous priesthood do find subsistence. On certain festivals the temples are crowded to excess, and the exclamation, “O-me-to-fuh” is familiar to the ear of every one who visits them. I have thus given a sketch of Budhism, a religion which strikes at the root of human society, in enjoining celibacy as the nearest approach to perfection, and in commanding its disciples to abandon relatives and friends, without fulfilling their duties as citizens, parents and children. We are bound to concede that this unnatural restraint is the source of vice and crime; at the same time we must in justice admit that Budhism does not sanction shocking rites, or Bacchanalian orgies, like other idolatrous systems in Asia; nor have we to complain of that indecency in its idol exhibitions, which is common to the religion of the Hindoos; the wooden deities are hideous, but never repulsive to the feelings of modesty. The temples are open to all, and serve occasionally for theatres, gambling-houses and taverns. The Chinese Budhists are a temporizing sect; their abstinence from animal food is not very strict. They seldom defend their idols, or appear much annoyed when they are treated with contempt;—their toleration arises from indifference; all religions, with them, are equally safe, but theirs is the best.
