# Siam: Its Government, Manners, Customs, &c/Chapter 3

Chapter III. Religion.
T he religion of Siam is Budhism. It would however be impossible on an occasion of this kind to give any extended outline of Budhism, and besides this the principal works on that subject in the English language are dry and uninteresting to the general reader or listener. Any translations from the Budhist classics must also be necessarily stiff, and many of the names unintelligible, unless accompanied with explanations; I shall only, therefore, give as brief an outline as I can of the Budhist faith, and describe, as nearly as possible, the manner in which it is practised in Siam.
Budhism arose from a man of royal blood called Gautama, but by the Siamese, Soma​nakodome. His father ruled a small kingdom in the province of Oude, near the Himelaya mountains. Gautama died probably about 534 B.C., and is supposed to have been nearly cotemporary with the prophet Daniel. Becoming disgusted with the luxuries and pleasures of courtly life he adopted that of a hermit, and like all hermits became an enthusiast, and fancied that he had found the only true road to all good, and thus leaped from the circle of eternal transmigration into a “sublimation of existence that has no attribute and knows no change.”
The late king of Siam speaks of the founder of the Budhist faith thus: “Budha was a man who came into being on a certain time, by ordinary generation; that he was a most extraordinary man, more mysterious and wonderful than all heavenly beings, because he made vast merit by the use of his body, his words and his will. He reigned as king twenty-nine years, (meaning doubtless that he lived in princely state until twenty-nine years old); that he then practised the most severe asceticism, and with the greatest ​assiduity for a period of six years, when his mind became so sublimated and refined that he habitually numbered and measured every thought he had, fixing his mind upon that single object, to the utter exclusion of every other care, and that consequently he attained to the highest perfection, not knowing anything alike of happiness or sorrow, being in a middle state between the two; and as a result of this, he then had power to remember many of the transmigrations of being through which he had come, and could see with angelic eyes distinctly all the various and numberless transmigrations of human, angelic, and animal being throughout the universe; and thence onward to the time of his death he gave his mind entirely to the destroying of sin in his own body and soul, and became the most pure and spotless, not only externally, but also in all the secret recesses of his life and soul, and thence is worthily denominated Arahang. He then saw by his own power alone, that all the forms and bodies which merit and demerit have caused to come ​into being, and all other things which exist without any cause, are altogether illusive, unreal, unsubstantial, and evanescent; without a maker, proprietor, or lord, and that hence is he also Samma Sampootó. This says he is the sacred Budh, whom others before us have thus eulogized as having come into the world, and lived in it, and is commonly called according to his family name, Gótama. He spent forty-five years in publishing the way to holiness and substantial and eternal peace, and then extinguished his life, and departed into Nipán.”
The pantheism of Brahminism had by long operation produced that sluggishness of mind—its legitimate fruit—and confounded the deity with his works, and making it appear that the aggregate of creation is itself God. In opposition to this, Budhism produced the doctrine that all forms are mere illusions, and that will, purpose, action, feeling, thought, desire, love, hatred, and every other attribute that can be predicated of the mind, is unstable, and unreal, and therefore cannot be associated with perfect ​peace. A state of “sublimation of existence above all qualities,” is the only thing that is real and substantial. Budha has attained to that state which is called in the Pali nirwana, but by the Siamese Nipán. The literal meaning of the word is, “absence of all desire,” which involves an absence of thought, and may hence be called a state of dreamless perpetual sleep. To attain to that state the Budhist dogma, that all things which appear in creation are illusive, and unreal, and consequently unsubstantial, must be firmly fixed upon the mind. This lesson, however, can only be learned by the most studious application of the mind, and moral discipline by self-denial during a period of at least 100,000 transmigrations. To our mind Nipán is nothing but annihilation, but Budhists will not admit it to be such, but maintain that Budha has a perpetual existence there, Nipán is the Budhist’s highest idea of happiness. Omnipotence may be attained by perfect virtue, abstinence, thought, and meditation.
Fatality is the cause of creation. The uni​verse came into existence by the inherent force of fixed and invariable laws, which brings the worlds out of chaos, and conducts them on by gradation to a state of high perfection, and then downward again by the same gradation to dissolution, and then back again, upward and downward in a series that had no beginning, and will have no end. If any Siamese in the kingdom be asked who made the world, he will invariably answer “pen eng,” it made itself.
The teachings of Budha appear to have been transmitted by tradition for about four hundred and fifty years after his death, and were then committed to writing by the authority of a Budhist Council.
The Budhist system of the universe is found in a book called the Trei Poom, or a book settling all questions about the existence of the three worlds. The Trei Poom of the Siamese was originally translated from the Pali. The work was doubtless originally written in Ceylon, and carried thence to all Budhist countries. ​The Rev. Dr. Bradley, the oldest missionary in Siam, has prepared an abstract from the Trei Poom, and published in the Bangkok Calendar, from which I shall make a few extracts on the present occasion.
The universe consists of an infinite number of systems, called by the Siamese Chackrawan. Each Chackrawan has a sun, moon and stars revolving around the top of a central mountain, called Kow Pra Men, which extends above the surface of the ocean about 840,000 miles, and the same distance into the ocean. It forms a perfect circle, having a circumference equal to 2,520,000 miles. Parallel to the circle it describes, and at a distance of 420,000 miles, is the first of seven circular mountains, being variously distant from each other. Their depth in water is the same as their height above it. The names, height, circumference, &c., of these mountains are all given, but would occupy too much space to enumerate here. Between each of the seven mountains is a sea called Seetawtara Samoot. The width and depth of each ​is as the distance between the mountains which bound it, and the depth of the mountains below the surface of the water. The water is exceedingly refined and light. The fish that live in those seas are wonderful for variety and size, being many thousand miles long. Parallel with the circle described by the seventh mountain, and 5,513,650 miles from it, is a circular glass mountain, called Kow Chakrawan. This mountain forms the horizontal boundary of the system. Its height is 820,000 miles, and its thickness 120,000. The circular area which this mountain encloses is 12,034,500 miles in diameter. The circumference of the mountains on the outside is 136,035,500 miles. The water on both sides is 820,000 miles deep. The width of the ocean between it and Kow Asa Kan is 3,513,650 miles. Within this vast expanse of water are situated the four grand divisions of the populated plane or surface of the Chakrawan. These are called Taweeps, which, for want of a better term to express them, have been translated continents. These ​all have their appropriate names. The first, in its horizontal contour, is shaped somewhat like the face of a man, and hence is inhabited by mankind with faces like itself. The second has a form like a half-moon, and is inhabited by an intelligent race with semi-circular faces. The third is a perfect square, and is inhabited by square-faced beings. The fourth is circular, and is inhabited by beings having faces like the full moon. The distance from each Taweep to Kow Chakrawan is 2,798,600 miles. Each Chakrawan system is underlaid by a body of water independent of their oceans. The distance from the surface of the earth to it is 260,000 miles, and the depth of it is 480,000 miles. Underlying this body there is a stratum of air 960,000 miles in depth, and thence downward there is nothing but an open and utter void.
Each Chackrawan has attached to it, somewhere in the subterranean regions, eight chief hells, called by the Siamese Narok, meaning worlds of utter misery. Each of these hells ​has attached to it sixteen smaller ones, making one hundred and twenty-eight in all. Outside of these there is another range of purgatories, forty to each chief hell, making in all three hundred and seventy.
Each Chakrawan has attached to it six inferior heavenly worlds, called Tewalok, situated above each other, and at immense distances apart. The first is situated on the top of the first of the seven circular mountains, and the second on the top of Kow Pra Men. The others have no terrestrial foundation, but are suspended in open space.
These Chakrawans are far more innumerable than the particles of matter which compose the earth. A mighty Prom once desired to find the limits of these systems. He was so powerful that by one step he could cross a Chakrawan as swiftly as an arrow crosses the shadow of a palmyra tree at midday. He travelled from one Chakrawan to another at that rate for one thousand years, and then onward ten thousand more, and then one hundred thousand ​more, until he was convinced that it was impossible to find the limit, or to express their immensity in numbers.
The Budhist decalogue consists of ten commandments, viz.
I. From the meanest insect up to man, thou shalt kill no animal whatever.
II. Thou shalt not steal.
III. Thou shalt not violate the wife of another, nor his concubine.
IV. Thou shalt speak no word that is false.
V. Thou shalt not drink wine, nor anything that may intoxicate.
VI. Thou shalt avoid all anger, hatred, and bitter language.
VII. Thou shalt not indulge in idle and vain talk.
VIII. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s goods.
IX. Thou shalt not harbor envy, nor pride, nor malice, nor revenge, nor the desire of thy neighbor’s death or misfortune.
​X. Thou shalt not follow the doctrines of false gods.
All who are habitually engaged in killing animals, stealing, committing adultery, drinking ardent spirits and getting drunk, will sink to the lowest hell. There are, however, five crimes which are especially damnable, viz., murder of father or mother, murder of the highest order of priests, called Arahang, wounding Budha’s foot, so as to make it bleed, (supposed to refer to the renouncing of the Budhist religion,) and persuading priests to follow false doctrines or practices. Those committing such sins go down to the very bottom of the lowest hell.
No new souls are ever made, the universe is ever stocked with intelligent beings, and has been from eternity. These are continually transmigrating from one state of being into another. All depends upon merit and demerit. Every action and thought have their consequences, either in the present or some future state of existence. Evil actions produce evil ​consequences, which will eventually become manifest, and cause a future birth, either in hell or in some inferior animal. Hence, in speaking of the future, the Siamese always say “tam boon tam kam,” according to merit or demerit. An amount of demerit may be cancelled by a corresponding amount of merit. We have had cooks in our employ who have been obliged to kill animals such as chickens, &c., and who, after leaving us, have entered the priesthood to atone for their demerit.
Over four hundred millions of the human race hold the Budhist religion in some form or other. There is no people, however, who excel the Siamese in devotedness and fidelity, and can show so many gorgeous temples and monasteries. The government and the religion are so inseparably connected together, that it is impossible to see how the one can be overthrown without the other. It is a mutual union of Church and State. No one can hold any civil office whatever under the government, ​who has not spent at least three months in the priesthood.
Budhism was brought from Ceylon to Cambodia, and thence to Siam, and probably arrived in Siam about the fifth century of the Christian era. The Siamese know of no other religion having existed amongst them.
They make merit in Siam in different ways. One prolific source is the building of temples or monasteries. These temples oftentimes cover acres of ground, and besides the regular temple or shrine of the idols, have houses or dormitories for the monks, and other outbuildings. The temples are gaudy, but not magnificent, grand, or massive. They are all accompanied with spires or pagodas, which frequently reach a great height. The temple building proper is filled with idols which are hideous in their appearance. Some are sitting, some standing, and some are in a reclining posture. There is one temple at the old city of Audia, said to have twenty thousand idols in it, and the estimate cannot be far in excess of the real num​ber. There is one reclining idol in Bangkok, about one hundred and seventy-five feet long, eighteen feet across the breast; and the feet of the idol are six feet long. It is made of brick and mortar, heavily overlaid with gold, and cost probably about $3,000. When the King wishes to make merit, he builds a temple costing perhaps $100,000. When any of the chief princes or nobles wish to make merit they do the same. The temples built by the princes and nobles are all given to the King, and then formally dedicated. These are called “Wat HLuang,” or royal temples, from the fact that the kings visit them once a year, and distribute presents to the priests. The common people also join together, and build temples, which are called “Wat Ratsadon,” or the people’s temples. They are the same as the others, only not so grand, and the kings do not visit them. There are in the city of Bangkok alone about one hundred and twenty temples.
Another prolific source of merit is by entering the priesthood. It is the highest ambition ​of every mother to have all her sons take holy orders in the priesthood, at some time or other during life, but generally in the prime of it, as they thus not only make merit for themselves, but also for the parents. It consequently becomes an ambition to have as many sons as possible. The advent of a son is hailed with delight, whilst that of a daughter is rather an occasion of lamentation. The first question asked on the advent of a little stranger is, “pen pu chai rú pu ying?” is it a boy or a girl? When our first child was born, and our Siamese friends came to see the little white stranger, finding it to be a girl, the only congratulations they offered were, “tempte Maú tempte,” too bad, doctor, too bad. The shortest time any one can remain in the priesthood is three months, and as much longer as they choose. I have met men who had been in the priesthood over forty years. I have met them also who had been in it a number of times. It is no uncommon thing for a man to leave his ​wife and family for a short time, and enter the priesthood.
The ceremony is very simple, consisting of asking the candidate a few questions as to his motives, shaving his head, and bathing him copiously with holy water, and clothing him with yellow robes. They have also the order of nains, or novices, consisting of those too young to take full orders. The clothing of the priests consists of a yellow robe resembling somewhat the old Roman toga, with a scarf of the same material, or something richer, thrown over the shoulders. But as Budha was clothed in rags, they must imitate to some extent his example, they therefore take the new yellow cloth, tear it in pieces, and then sew it together again. This is done by the women, and is also a source of merit.
The priests go out early in the morning for their daily food. At every house is stationed some member of the family, with a basin of boiled rice, and a large brass spoon in it. When a priest comes along he uncovers his ​vessel, and receives a spoonful of rice, and then passes on to the next house. Some also give fish, fruit, and other things to eat with the rice. When sufficient rice is collected for the day, they return to the temples and take the morning meal. The next meal is eaten just before noon, and nothing more until the next morning. It is considered very sinful for a priest to eat after noon. The people also frequently meet together at the different temples, and make feasts for the priests, and give presents to them.
There are in Bangkok alone over ten thousand priests, and all that vast army can be seen starting out early every morning in search of their daily food.
It must cost Siam annually nearly $25,000,000 to keep up the priesthood alone, and supposing the population to be eight millions, which is perhaps an over-estimate, it will make on an average of over three dollars for every man, woman and child in the kingdom. Now, if every man, woman and child in the evangeli​cal Christian Church would average three dollars per annum, there would not be so many starving ministers, and the Boards of the Church would not be compelled so frequently to go a begging. The world too, at that rate, would soon be evangelized. If the heathen can do so much for a false religion, what should Christians not be willing to do for the holy religion of Jesus, to which they owe everything they have, and are, and hope to be?
Any violation of the laws of chastity whilst in the priesthood is most severely punished. The culprit is publicly whipped with a ratan. He is then paraded for three days around the city with a crier going before, proclaiming his crime, and is then condemned to cut grass for the king’s elephants for life, and his posterity after him, to the most remote generation. The other offending party is condemned to turn the king’s rice-mill for life, and her posterity after her to the most remote generation. In consequence of the severe punishment, slips of that kind whilst in the priesthood, in proportion to ​the numbers, are much less frequent than among the Christian ministry. Sodomy, however, and other unmentionable crimes, are fearfully prevalent.
The priests are the only persons in the kingdom who are not obliged to crouch before the king. The king himself crouches before the high-priest. When any one meets a priest, he places the palms of his hands together and raises them to his forehead in reverence.
The duty of the priests is to take care of the religion, recite prayers at funerals, weddings, &c., and preach when called upon to do so. The people frequently invite the priests to their houses to have preaching. The sermons consist chiefly of exhortations to make merit, and are generally in such lofty words and terms, taken from the Pali, that the common people do not understand them.
The Siamese also make pilgrimages to Prabat and other sacred places. Prabat is a beautiful little volcanic mountain about eighty miles north of Bangkok. The rocks appear to have ​been thrown up in a plastic state, and in cooling down left innumerable little holes or crevices in the solid rock. One of these, about six feet long, is imagined to be the impress of Budha’s foot. They have accordingly bricked it up, and have overlaid the wall with gold leaf. They have also erected over it a beautiful little temple, whose floor is covered with silver cloth, and whose walls are heavily covered with gold. Vast multitudes flock thither during the months of January and February of every year, to make their offerings at that sacred shrine. The principal offering is gold leaf, which they paste on the inside of the footprint. There are at least $5000 expended there annually in gold leaf alone. The little caves also, with which the mountain abounds, are filled with idols, and every prominent point is capped with a pagoda. At the foot of the mountain is rather a hideous idol, at which all pilgrims dismount from their elephants, and make an offering before ascending to the more holy place. The offering consists chiefly of a twig from a tree, or a few flow​ers. The tradition is, that whoever refuses to make this offering will die before leaving the place. They were very much surprised that we refused at least to dismount. They told us that Sir Robert Schomburgk, the English Consul, who had visited there the previous year, had also refused to dismount, and that he himself had not died, but a favorite dog he had with him on the elephant had died before he left the mountain. Sir Robert however, had a different theory in regard to his dog, and blamed some one for administering to him a dose of poison. Many of the most intelligent princes and nobles have no faith in prabat, but still assist in keeping up the delusion.
There is also a short distance north of Prabat a very lofty rock called Pra Chei, or sacred glory, where Budha is said to have once taken shelter from a shower of rain, and departing, left his shadow. Multitudes also flock thither to worship. We arrived there about ten o’clock at night, and upon ascending a long flight of steps, found numbers bowed before the rock ​and pasting gold leaf upon it. When we told them that we could see no shadow, they attributed it to a want of faith.
The Siamese are also very much tormented with the fear of spirits, both good and evil, and use every means to propitiate them. Witchcraft is also very much feared. Wizards and witches are believed to have power to put into the stomach of any one a piece of buffalo meat, or other substance. A very disgusting circumstance of this kind occurred near our premises. The father of a certain family took sick and died. The family believed some foul play had been exercised in his case, and when they came to burn the body, a small portion, perhaps the heart, did not consume as rapidly as the rest. This was taken at once to be the buffalo meat, and was taken home and eaten by the family. The whole family ate of it, except one little girl who was absent in the family of a missionary. The belief is that if they eat of it, they can never be affected the same way.
It is just to state that there are two schools ​of Budhism in Siam. The late king, whilst a prince and in the priesthood, studied astronomy, and became too intelligent to believe the teachings of the Budhist books in reference to the system of the universe, and accordingly undertook to reform Budhism, by discarding from the sacred books all those things which conflicted with modern science, and especially in reference to astronomy. Many of the most intelligent princes and nobles went with him. A vast majority, however, swallow the whole of the Budhist teachings.
The greatest champion of the New School was Chow Phya Thipakon, late Minister of Foreign Affairs. He was in some respects the greatest thinker in the kingdom. He was the only man in the kingdom who, as yet, has ventured to write a book, and have it printed wholly by his own workmen. It consists of several hundred pages, and was lithographed throughout, which must have taken considerable pains and labor. The title is “Kitchanukit,” a book explaining many things. He commences by rather ridi​culing the elementary system of education practised in the temples, and tries to stimulate the natives to better things. He also takes up the different systems of religion throughout the world, so far as his knowledge extends, and compares them with his own. He confutes, in his own way, the elementary religious tracts published by the missionaries, and the evidences of Christianity. He maintains his belief in his own system, and gives a few arguments in favor of the transmigration of souls. He also gives a number of illustrations and anecdotes bearing on that subject, of which the following is a specimen: “Another instance is that of the child of a Peguan at Paklat, (a town near Bangkok,) who, as soon as he had learned to speak, told his parents that he was formerly named Makran, and had been killed by a fall from a cocoanut tree, and as he fell, his axe fell from his hand and dropped into a ditch; and they seeing that his story coincided with something that had happened within their knowledge, tried the child by making him point out the tree, and he ​pointed out the tree, and his story was confirmed by their digging up the axe from the ditch.”
Although the book evinces some thought and considerable knowledge, it is infantile when he attempts to grapple with the great truths of Christianity. H. Alabaster, Esq., for ten years interpreter to H. B. M. Consulate in Siam, has translated portions of the book, accompanied with remarks of his own, and published it under the title of “The Modern Budhist.”
It may be asked, what is the effect of such a system of religion upon the morals of the people in comparison with those of eminently Christian countries? There are many kinds of crimes in which Christian nations far surpass them, such as those daring and dark outrages perpetrated in our large cities, the recital of which shocks our sensibilities every time we take up a morning paper. But heathen morals have ever been the same, and the description which Paul gives of the heathen of old, in the first chapter of the epistle to the Romans, is a complete descrip​tion of the heathen of to-day. There is a rottenness about everything, morally speaking, which we do not find in Christian countries. It would be impossible on an occasion of this kind, and before a mixed audience, to give you any idea of the prevailing state of morals. I am not one of those, who, like the English governess in the Atlantic Monthly, would consider Budhism a shadow of Christianity, and “thank God” for it. It is eminently the offspring of Satan, as all its bearings and workings on the heart and morals will abundantly show. I have seen none of those glorious death-bed scenes which she describes, and think they are rare. A Siamese man lived neighbor to us for ten years. He could sit in his own door and hear the gospel preached in our mission chapel. He was an excellent neighbor, and was to all appearance a moral man. He had observed, as nearly as possible, all the tenets of his religion. He had made merit in every possible way. All his sons had entered the priesthood. He was about seventy ​years old, and his death-sickness came. The future was all dark to him. He struggled with, disease and death for a number of days. One of our native church members called to see his old neighbor, and ventured to speak to him about the approaching change. The old man was unwilling to give up, and answered, “Mai yak tai,” I do not want to die; “Klua tai,” I am afraid to die; and then summoning all his remaining strength exclaimed, “Chă mai tai,” I will not die. Still he had to die, as millions of his race have done, without one ray of light to illuminate the soul, and no faith in Jesus opening up to him the glories of the eternal world.