« AnkstesnisTęsti »
baffled by English jealousy. Then they took to sheep-farming, and sent excellent wool to EngAgain the landed interest of England took alarm, and Irish wool was declared contraband by act of Parliament in the reign of Charles II. The Irish then manufactured the raw material at home, and soon drove a thriving trade in woolen stuffs. The manufacturers of England thereupon rose up against the iniquity of Irish competition, and the woolen manufactures of Ireland were promptly excluded from the markets of the Continent. They were, however, so excellent and so cheap that the industry still flourished. But English jealousy never ceased its clamor against it, and in the year 1698 both Houses of the English Parliament petitioned the King to suppress it. His Majesty replied to the Lords that he would "take care to do what their lordships desired." To the Commons he said, "I shall do all that in me lies to discourage the woolen manufactures of Ireland." Discouraged they were accordingly; and so effectually that, whereas two centuries ago they held their own against England in foreign markets, I find from an official return of 1866 the following significant figures: The value of the woolen exports of Great Britain in that year was £21,795,971; that of Ireland, £246. The woolen industry being destroyed, the Irish tried their hand, with marked success, at the manufacture of silk. From that field also British jealousy drove them in despair. But they are a pertinacious race, and do not readily "say die." So they tried their hands at the smaller industries, since all the larger ones were tabooed them. Availing themselves of Ireland's facilities for the manufacture of glass, they were summarily stopped by a law which prohibited the exportation of glass from Ireland, and its importation into Ireland from any country save England. Cotton, sugar, soap, candle-making, and other manufactures were all tried in turn, and with a like result. To crush her industries beyond all hope of competition with English merchants, all the Mediterranean ports were closed against her, and she was at length shut out from commerce with the whole world, Old and New, including even our own colonies. To such a pitch did this cruel policy, and not more cruel than stupid, reach, that even the spontaneous produce of the ocean which washed his shores could not be enjoyed by the Irishman without the jealous interference of English interests; and the fishermen of Waterford and Wexford were thought presumptuous for pursuing their calling along their own coasts because, forsooth! the fish-markets of England might thereby be injured. One solitary industry remained to Ireland. She was allowed to cultivate the linen trade, though "British interests" tried to strangle
it also; and Manchester, in 1785, sent a petition to Parliament, signed by one hundred and seventeen thousand persons, praying for the prohibition of Irish linens. The voice of reason and justice for once prevailed, and Derry, and Belfast, and Lisburn flourish to prove what the rest of Ireland might now be, if the purblind champions of "British interests" had not then, as lately, ignorantly sacrificed, to a purely imaginary danger, the welfare and good will of an oppressed race. The sins of nations, as of individuals, are sure to find them out, and we have no just cause of complaint if events should prove that our sins against Ireland are not yet expiated in full. We robbed the Irish of their land, and they betook themselves to other industries for livelihood. these we robbed them also, and drove them back upon the land exclusively for their support. Yet we wonder that there is now a land question in Ireland!
MALCOLM MACCOLL (Contemporary Review).
BUDDHISM AND JAINISM.
[From an article in "The Contemporary Review," entitled "Buddhism and Jainism," we extract a few passages descriptive of the Jains or Jainas, a religious sect of India.]
BUDDHISM was destined to become extinct with its founder. The Buddha died, like other men, and, according to his own doctrine, became absolutely extinct. Nothing remained but the relics of his burned body, which were distributed in all directions. No successor was ready to step into his place. No living representative was competent to fill up the void caused by his death. Nothing seemed more unlikely than that the mere recollection of his teaching and example, though perpetuated by the rapid multiplication of shrines, symbols, and images of his person, should have power to secure the continuance of his system in his own native country for more than ten centuries, and to disseminate his doctrines over the greater part of Asia. What, then, was the secret of its permanence and diffusion? It really had no true permanence. Buddhism never lived on in its first form, and never spread anywhere without taking from other systems quite as much as it imparted. The tolerant spirit which was its chief distinguishing characteristic permitted its adherents to please themselves in adopting extraneous doctrines. Hence it happened that the Buddhists were always ready to acquiesce in, and even conform to, the religious practices of the countries to which they migrated, and to clothe their own simple
creed in, so to speak, a many-colored vesture of meditation, and true knowledge. In these crupopular legends and superstitious ideas.
Even in India, where the Buddha's memory continued to be perpetuated by strong personal *recollections and local associations, as well as by relics, symbols, and images, his doctrines rapidly lost their distinctive character, and ultimately merged in the Brahmanism whence they originally sprang.
Nor is there any historical evidence to prove that the Buddhists were finally driven out of India by violent means. Doubtless occasional persecutions occurred in particular places at various times, and it is well ascertained that fanatical, enthusiastic Brahmans, such as Kumārila and S'ankara, occasionally instigated deeds of blood and violence. But the final disappearance of Buddhism is probably due to the fact that the two systems, instead of engaging in constant conflict, were gradually drawn toward each other by mutual sympathy and attraction; and that, originally related like father and child, they ended by consorting together in unnatural union and intercourse. The result of this union was the production of the hybrid systems of Vaishnavism and S'aivism, both of which in their lineaments bear a strong family resemblance to Buddhism. The distinctive names of Buddhism were dropped, but the distinctive features of the system survived. The Vaishnavas were Buddhists in their doctrines of liberty and equality, in their abstinence from injury (a-hinsā), in their desire for the preservation of life, in their hero-worship, deification of humanity, and fondness for images; while the S'aivas were Buddhists in their love for self-mortification and austerity, as well as in their superstitious dread of the power of demoniacal agencies. What, then, became of the atheistical philosophy and agnostic materialism of the Buddhistic creed? Those doctrines were no more expelled from India than were other Buddhistic ideas. They found a home, under changed names, among various sects, but especially in a kindred system which has survived to the present day, and may be conveniently called Jainism....
What is the great end and object of Jainism? Briefly, it may be stated that Jainism, like Brāhmanism and Buddhism, aims at getting rid of the burden of repeated existences. Three root ideas may be said to lie at the foundation of all three systems: first, that personal existence is protracted through an innumerable succession of bodies by the almighty power of man's own acts; secondly, that mundane life is an evil, and that man finds his perfection in the cessation of all acts, and the consequent extinction of all personal existence; thirdly, that such perfection is alone attained through self-mortification, abstract
cial doctrines the theory of Brahmanism is superior to that of Buddhism and Jainism. According to the Brahmans, the living soul of man has an eternal existence both retrospectively and prospectively, and only exists separately from the One Supreme Eternal Soul because that Supreme Soul wills the temporary separate personality of countless individual spirits, dissevering them from his own essence, and causing them to pass through a succession of bodies, till, after a long course of discipline, they are permitted to blend once more with their great Eternal Source. With the Brahmans existence in the abstract is not an evil. It is only an evil when it involves the continued separation of the personal soul from the impersonal Eternal Soul of the Universe.
Very different is the doctrine of Buddhists and Jains. With them there is no Supreme Being, no Supreme Divine Eternal Soul, no separate human eternal soul. Nor can there be any true soul-transmigration. A Buddhist and a Jaina believe that the only eternal thing is matter. The universe consists of eternal atoms which by their own inherent creative force are perpetually developing countless forms of being in ever-recurring cycles of creation and dissolution, re-creation and re-dissolution. This is symbolized by a wheel revolving for ever in perpetual progression and retrogression.
What, then, becomes of the doctrine of transmigration of souls, which is said to be held even more strongly by Buddhists and Jains than by Hindūs? It is thus explained: Every human being is composed of certain constituents (called by Buddhists the five Skandhas). prehend body, soul, and mind, with all the organs of feeling and sensation. They are all dissolved at death, and absolute extinction would follow, were it not for the inextinguishable, imperishable, omnipotent force of Karman or Act. No sooner are the constituents of one stage of existence dissolved than a new set is created by the force of acts done and character formed in the previous stage. Soul-transmigration with Buddhists is simply a concatenation of separate existences connected by the iron chain of act. A man's own acts generate a force which may be compared to those of chemistry, magnetism, or electricity—a force which periodically re-creates the whole man, and perpetuates his personal identity (notwithstanding the loss of memory) through the whole series of his separate existences, whether it obliges him to ascend or descend in the scale of being. It may safely be affirmed that Brāhmans, Buddhists, and Jains all agree in repudiating the idea of vicarious suffering. All concur in rejecting the notion of a representative man-whether he be a Manu, a Rishi,
a Buddha, or a Jina-suffering as a substituted self-mortification (tapas), self-restraint (yama), victim for the rest of mankind. Every being brought into the world must suffer in his own person the consequences of his own deeds committed either in present or former states of being. It is not sufficient that he be rewarded in a temporary heaven, or punished in a temporary hell. Neither heaven nor hell has power to extinguish the accumulated efficacy of good or bad acts committed by the same person during a long succession of existences. Such accumulated acts must inevitably and irresistibly drag him down into other mundane forms, until at length their potency is destroyed by his attainment of perfect self-discipline and self-knowledge in some final culminating condition of being, terminated by complete self-annihilation.
And thus we are brought to a clear understanding of the true character of a Jina or selfconquering saint (from the Sanskrit root ji, to conquer). A Jina is with the Jains very nearly what a Buddha is with the Buddhists.
He represents the perfection of humanity, the typical man, who has conquered self and attained a condition so perfect that he not only ceases to act, but is able to extinguish the power of former acts; a human being who is released from the obligation of further transmigration, and looks forward to death as the absolute extinction of personal existence. But he is also more than this. He is a being who by virtue of the perfection of his self-mortification (tapas) has acquired the perfection of knowledge, and therefore the right to be a supreme leader and teacher of mankind. He claims far more complete authority and infallibility than the most arrogant Roman pontiff. He is in his own solitary person an absolutely independent and infallible guide to salvation. Hence he is commonly called a Tirthan-kara, or one who constitutes a Tīrtha *that is to say, a kind of passage or medium through which. bliss may be attained-a kind of ford or bridge leading over the river of life to the elysium of final emancipation. Other names for him are Arhat (" venerable "), Sarva-jna (“omniscient"), Bhagavat ("lord ").
A Buddha with the Buddhists is a very similar personage. He is a self-conqueror and selfmortifier (tapasvi), like the Jina, and is besides a supreme guide to salvation; but he has achieved his position of Buddhahood more by the perfection of his meditation (voga, samādhi) than by the completeness of his self-restraint and austerities.
and asceticism. Only twenty-four supreme saints and Tirthan-karas can appear in any one cycle of time, but every mortal man may be a selfrestrainer (yati). Every one born into the world may be a striver after sanctity (sādhu), and a practicer of austerities (tapasvi). Doubtless, at first there was no distinction between monks, ascetics, and ordinary men, just as in the earliest days of Christianity there was no division into bishops, priests, and laity. All Jainas in ancient times practiced austerities, but among such ascetics an important difference arose. One party advocated an entire abandonment of clothing, in token of complete indifference to all worldly ideas and associations. The other party were in favor of wearing white garments. The former were called Dig-ambara, sky-clothed, the latter S'vetāmbara (or, in ancient works, S'veta-pata), white-clothed.* Of these the Dig-ambaras were chronologically the earliest. They were probably the first to form themselves into a regular society. The first Jina, Rishaba, as well as the last Jina, Mahāvīra, are said to have been Digambaras, and to have gone about absolutely naked. Their images represent two entirely nude ascetics, whereas the images of other Jinas, like the Buddhist images, are representations of a sage, generally seated in a contemplative posture, with a robe thrown gracefully over one shoulder.
It is not improbable that the S'vetāmbara division of the Jainas were merely a sect which separated itself from the parent stock in later times, and became in the end numerically the most important, at least in western India. The Dig-ambaras, however, are still the most numerous faction in southern India, and at Jaipur in the north.†
And, indeed, it need scarcely be pointed out that ascetics, both wholly naked and partially clothed, are as common under the Brahmanical system as among Jainas and Buddhists. The god S'iva himself is represented as a Dig-ambara, or naked ascetic, whenever he assumes the character of a Mahā-yogi—that is to say, whenever he enters on a long course of austerity, with an absolutely nude body, covered only with a thick coating of dust and ashes, sitting motionless and wrapped in meditation for thousands of years, that he may teach men by his own example the power attainable through self-mortification and abstract contemplation.
The actual color of an ascetic's dress is a kind of yellowish-pink, or salmon color. Pure white is not much used by the Hindus, except as a mark of mourning, when it takes the place of black with us.
+ There is also a very low, insignificant, and intensely atheistical sect of Jainas called Dhundhias. They are much despised by the Hindus, and even by the more orthodox Jainas.
It is true that absolute nudity in public is now prohibited by law, but the Dig-ambara Jainas who take their meals, like orthodox Hindūs, in strict seclusion, are said to remove their clothes in the act of eating. Even in the most crowded thoroughfares the requirements of legal decency are easily satisfied. Any one who travels in India must accustom himself to the sight of plenty of unblushing, self-asserting human flesh. Thousands content themselves with the minimum of clothing represented by a narrow strip of cloth, three or four inches wide, twisted round their loins. Nor ought it to excite any feeling of prudish disgust to find poor, hard-working laborers tilling the ground with a greater area of suntanned skin courting the cooling action of air and wind on the burning plains of Asia than would be considered decorous in Europe. As to mendicant devotees, they may still occasionally be seen at great religious gatherings absolutely innocent of even a rag. Nevertheless, they are careful to avoid magisterial penalties. In a secluded part of the city of Patna, I came suddenly on an old female ascetic, who usually sits quite naked in a large barrel, which constitutes her only abode. When I passed her, in company with the collector and magistrate of the district, she rapidly drew a dirty sheet round her body.
In the present day both Dig-ambara and S'vetāmbara Jainas are divided into two classes, corresponding to clergy and laity. When the two sects increased in numbers, all, of course, could not be ascetics. Some were compelled to engage in secular pursuits, and many developed industrious and business-like habits. Hence it happened that a large number became prosperous merchants and traders.
All laymen among the Jainas are called S'ravakas, "hearers or disciples," while the Yatis, or "self-restraining ascetics," who constitute the only other division of both Jaina sects, are the supposed teachers (Gurus). Many of them, of course, never teach at all. They were formerly called Nirgrantha, "free from worldly ties," and are often known by the general name of Sādhu, "holy men." All are celibates, and most of them are cenobites, not anchorites. Sometimes four or five hundred live together in one monastery, which they call a Upās'raya, "place of retirement," under a presiding abbot. They dress, like other Hindū ascetics, in yellowish-pink or salmon-colored garments. There are also female ascetics (Sadhvini, or, anciently, Nirgranthi), who may be seen occasionally in public places clothed in dresses of a similar color. When these good women draw the ends of their robes over their heads to conceal their features, and cover the lower part of their faces with pieces of muslin to prevent animalcula from entering
When we come to the Jaina moral code, we find ourselves transported from the mists of fanciful ideas and arbitrary speculation to a clearer atmosphere and firmer ground. The three gems which every Jaina is required to seek after with earnestness and diligence, are right intuition, right knowledge, and right conduct. The nature of the first two may be inferred from the explanations already given. Right conduct consists in the observance of five duties (vratas), and the avoidance of five sins implied in five prohibitions. The five duties are: Be merciful to all living things; practice almsgiving and liberality; venerate the perfect sages while living, and worship their images after their decease; confess your sins annually, and mutually forgive each other; observe fasting. The five prohibitions are: Kill not; lie not; steal not; commit not adultery or impurity; love not the world or worldly honor.
If equal practical importance were attached to these ten precepts, the Jaina system could not fail to conduce in a high degree to the happiness and well-being of its adherents, however perverted their religious sense may be. Unfortunately, undue stress is laid on the first duty and first prohibition, to the comparative neglect of some of the others. In former days, when Buddhism and Jainism were prevalent everywhere, "kill not was required to be proclaimed by sound of trumpet in every city daily.
And, indeed, with all Hindūs respect for life has always been regarded as a supreme obligation. Ahinsā, or avoidance of injury to others in thought, word, and deed, is declared by Manu to be the highest virtue, and its opposite the greatest crime. Not the smallest insect ought to be killed, lest the soul of some relation should be there embodied. Yet all Hindus admit that life may be taken for religious or sacrificial purposes. Not so Buddhists and Jainas. With them the sacrifice of any kind of life, even for the most sacred purpose, is a heinous crime. In fact, the belief in transmission of personal identity at death through an infinite series of animal existences is so intense that they live in perpetual dread of destroying some beloved relative or friend. The most deadly serpents or venomous scorpions may enshrine the spirits of their fathers or mothers, and are therefore left unharmed. The Jainas far outdo every other Indian sect in carrying the prohibition, "not to kill," to the most preposterous extremes. They strain water before drinking, sweep the ground with a silken brush before sitting down, never eat or drink in the dark, and often wear muslin before their
mouths to prevent the risk of swallowing minute insects. They even object to eating figs, or any fruit containing seed, and would consider themselves eternally defiled by simply touching fleshmeat with their hands.
One of the most curious sights in Bombay is the Panjara-pol, or hospital for diseased, crippled, and worn-out animals, established by rich Jaina merchants and benevolent Vaishnava Hindūs in a street outside the fort. The institution covers several acres of ground, and is richly endowed. Both Jainas and Vaishnavas think it a work of the highest religious merit to contribute liberally toward its support. The animals are well fed and well tended, though it certainly seemed to me, when I visited the place, that the great majority would be more mercifully provided for by the application of a loaded pistol to their heads. I found, as might have been expected, that a large proportion of space was allotted to stalls for sick and infirm oxen, some with bandaged eyes, some with crippled legs, some wrapped up in blankets and lying on straw beds. One huge, bloated, broken-down old bull in the last stage of decrepitude and disease was a pitiable object to behold. Then I noticed in other parts of the building singular specimens of emaciated buffaloes, limping horses, mangy dogs, apoplectic pigs, paralytic donkeys, featherless vultures, melancholy monkeys, comatose tortoises, besides a strange medley of cats, rats and mice, small birds, reptiles, and even insects, in every stage of suffering and disease. In one corner a crane, with a kind of wooden leg, appeared to have spirit enough left to strut in a stately manner among a number of dolorous-looking ducks and depressed fowls. The most spiteful animals seemed to be tamed by their sufferings and the care they received. All were being tended, nursed, physicked, and fed, as if it were a sacred duty to prolong the existence of every living creature to the utmost possible limit. It is even said that men are paid to sleep on dirty wooden beds in different parts of the building, that the loathsome vermin with which they are infested may be supplied with their nightly meal of human blood.
As to the other precepts of the Jaina moral code, it is noteworthy that the practice of confessing sins to a priestly order of men probably existed in full force among the Jainas long before its introduction into the Christian system. A pious Jaina ought to confess at least once a year, or, if his conscience happens to be burdened by the weight of any recent crime-such, for example, as the accidental killing of a noxious insect he is bound to betake himself to the confessional without delay. The stated observance of this duty is called Pratikramana, because on a particular day the penitent repairs solemnly to a
priestly Yati, who hears his confession, pronounces absolution, and imposes a penance. The penances inflicted generally consist of various kinds of fasting; but it must be observed that fasting is with Jainas a duty incumbent on all. It is a duty only second to that of not killing.
A NATIONAL THEATRE.
ONE great advantage the French stage undoubtedly possesses in having such a headquarters as the Théâtre Français, and such a perpetual corporation as is furnished by the sociétaires of that theatre. Here, where theatres are equipped and companies collected by individual enterprise, the headquarters of the drama are shifting-by courtesy at least we do generally have a headquarters-and the traditions accumulated by one management are dispersed when that management is broken up. The waste of this dispersal is prevented by the continuous existence of a guild of actors at the house of Molière, which in virtue of its undisputed lead among the theatres becomes the rendezvous of all interested in the dramatic art, poets, painters, architects, archæologists. They bring their contributions to one center, and the accumulated wealth of their ideas is handed on in a full stream from one generation to another.
To this advantage there is a counterbalancing disadvantage. Such centers tend to become too conservative. They get into the hands of old fogies. The young men of genius, with their fresh ideas, are excluded. But the evil rights itself in time. The conservatism of the old fogies gradually gives way to the innovating ardor of the young men of genius; the ideas of these young men have their day, and give place in their turn to new aspirations.
It would, we take it, be an unquestionable advantage for the English stage to have some such fixed center of dramatic life as the Théâtre Français. But can such a center be artificially created? That is another question. The feat is so unlikely that we can hardly believe in the possibility of it till it has been accomplished. It is, in fact, one of those things which may grow up out of some favorable concurrence of accidents, but which can not be designed and executed by deliberate calculation and energy. It is vain for any ardent well-wisher of the drama outside to say, "Go to, let us have a national theatre." Unless the time is ripe for it, unless the necessary elements are ready to fall into their places at the sound of some enthusiastic trumpetnote, no human energy can create them and bring