CHAPTER II.

_Birth of Buddha in a forest -- Rejoicings on that occasion --

Kaladewila -- Prediction of the Pounhas -- Vain efforts of

Thoodaudana to thwart the effect of the Prediction._

The time of her approaching confinement being close at hand, the

princess solicited from her husband, King Thoodaudana, leave to go to

the country of Dewah,[1] amongst her friends and relatives. As soon as

her request was made known, the king ordered that the whole extent of

the road between Kapilawot and Dewah should be perfectly levelled, and

lined on both sides with plantain trees, and adorned with the finest

ornaments. Jars, full of the purest water, were to be deposited all

along the road at short intervals. A chair of gold was made ready for

conveying the queen; and a thousand noblemen, attended by an innumerable

retinue, were directed to accompany her during the journey. Between the

two countries an immense forest of lofty Engyin trees extends to a great

distance. As soon as the _cortege_ reached it, five water-lilies shot

forth spontaneously from the stem and the main branches of each tree,

and innumerable birds of all kinds, by their melodious tunes, filled the

air with the most ravishing music. Trees, similar in beauty to those

growing in the seats of Nats, apparently sensible of the presence of the

incarnated Buddha, seemed to share in the universal joy.

On beholding this wonderful appearance of all the lofty trees of the

forest, the queen felt a desire to approach nearer and enjoy the

marvellous sight offered to her astonished regards. Her noble attendants

led her forthwith a short distance into the forest. Maia, seated on her

couch, along with her sister Patzapati, desired her attendants to have

it moved closer to an Engyin tree (_shorea robusta_), which she pointed

out. Her wishes were immediately complied with. She then rose gently on

her couch; her left hand, clasped round the neck of her sister,

supported her in a standing position. With the right hand she tried to

reach and break a small branch, which she wanted to carry away. On that

very instant, as the slender rattan, heated by fire, bends down its

tender head, all the branches lowered their extremities, offering

themselves, as it were, to the hand of the queen, who unhesitatingly

seized and broke the extremity of one of the young boughs. By virtue of

a certain power inherent in her dignity, on a sudden all the winds blew

gently throughout the forest. The attendants, having desired all the

people to withdraw to a distance, disposed curtains all round the place

the queen was standing on. Whilst she was in that position, admiring

the slender bough she held in her hands, the moment of her confinement

happened, and she was delivered of a son.[D]

[D] On the same day a son was born to Amitaudana, called Ananda.

The wife of Thouppaboudha of Dewah was delivered of a daughter,

called Yathaudara, who became afterwards the wife of Phralaong.

Anouroudha, the son of Thookaudana, was ushered into existence

on the same solemn occasion. The above-named Ananda was first

cousin to the Buddha, and subsequently became the amiable,

faithful, and devoted disciple who, during twenty-five years,

attended on the person of Buddha, and affectionately ministered

to all his wants. After the death of his mother Maia, Phralaong

was nursed and brought up with the greatest care by his aunt

Patzapati, sometimes called Gautamee.

Four chief Brahmas[2] received the new-born infant on a golden net-work,

and placed him in the presence of the happy mother, saying, "Give

yourself up, O Queen, to joy and rejoicing; here is the precious and

wonderful fruit of your womb."[E]

[E] _Remarks of the Burmese Translator._--When children are born

they appear in this world covered all over their bodies with

impure and disgusting substances. But an exception was made in

favour of our infant Phralaong. He was born without the least

stain of offending impurity; he was ushered into this world,

pure and resplendent, like a fine ruby placed on a piece of the

richest cloth of Kathika. He left his mother's womb with his

feet and hands stretched out, exhibiting the dignified

countenance of a Pundit descending from the place where he has

expounded the law. Though both mother and child were exempt from

the humiliating miseries common to all other human beings, there

came down from the skies upon both, by way of a respectful

offering, gentle showers of cold and warm water, succeeding each

other alternately in a regular order.

From the hands of the four chiefs of Brahmas, four chiefs of Nats

received the blessed child, whom they handed over to men, who placed him

on a beautiful white cloth. But to the astonishment of all, he freed

himself from the hands of those attending upon him, and stood in a firm

and erect position on the ground, when casting a glance towards the

east, more than one thousand worlds appeared like a perfectly levelled

plain. All the Nats inhabiting those worlds made offerings of flowers

and perfumes, exclaiming with exultation, "An exalted personage has made

his appearance;--who can ever be compared to him? who has ever equalled

him? He is indeed the most excellent of all beings." Phralaong looked

again towards the three other directions. Raising his eyes upwards, and

then lowering them down, he saw that there was no being equal to him.

Conscious of his superiority, he jumped over a distance of seven lengths

of a foot, in a northern direction, exclaiming,--"This is my last birth;

there shall be to me no other state of existence; I am the greatest of

all beings."[3] He then began to walk steadily in the same direction. A

chief of Brahmas held over his head the white umbrella.[4] A Nat carried

the golden fan. Other Nats held in their hands the golden sword, the

golden slippers, the cope set with the rarest precious stones, and other

royal insignia.[F]

[F] _Remarks of the Burmese Translator._--In former existences,

our Phralaong is said to have spoken a few words immediately

after his birth, viz., when he was Mahauthata and Wethandra. In

the first, he came into this world holding in his hands a small

plant, which a Nat had brought and placed in his tender hands at

that very moment. He showed it to his mother, who asked him

what it was. "This is a medicinal plant," replied he, to his

astonished mother. The plant was cast into a large jar full of

water, and the virtualised liquid ever retained the power of

curing every kind of bodily distemper. When he was born, or

rather began the existence in which he was called Wethandra, he

stretched out his hands asking something from his mother which

he might bestow on the needy. The mother put at his disposal one

thousand pieces of silver.

Thirty-two mighty wonders had proclaimed the incarnation of Phralaong in

his mother's womb, and the same number of wonders announced his birth to

the earth. Moreover, in that same moment were born the beautiful

Yathaudara, Ananda, the son of Amitaudana, the noblemen Tsanda and

Kaludari, and the horse Kantika. The great tree Bodi also sprung from

the ground, in the forest of Oorouwela, about two youdzanas distant from

the city of Radzagio, and in a north-easterly direction from that place,

and the four golden vases suddenly reappeared.

The inhabitants of Dewah, joining those of Kapilawot, set out for the

latter country with the newly-born infant, to whom they rendered the

greatest honours. The Nats of the seat of Tawadeintha, on hearing that a

son was born to King Thoodaudana, and that under the shade of the tree

Bodi[5] he would become a true Buddha with a perfect knowledge of the

four great truths, gave full vent to their boundless joy, hoisting

unfurled flags and banners in every direction, in token of their

indescribable rejoicings.

There was a celebrated Rathee, named Kaladewila, who had passed through

the eight degrees of contemplation, and who was in the habit of

resorting daily to the prince's palace for his food. On that very day,

having taken his meal as usual, he ascended to the seat of

Tawadeintha,[6] and found the fortunate inhabitants of that seat giving

themselves up to uncommon rejoicings. He asked them the reason of such

an unusual display of enrapturing transports of exultation. "It is,"

replied they to the inquiring Rathee, "because a son is born to King

Thoodaudana, who will soon become a true Buddha. Like all former

Buddhas, he will preach the law and exhibit in his person and throughout

his life the greatest wonders and a most accomplished pattern of the

highest virtues. We will hear the law from his very mouth."

On hearing the answer of the Nats, Kaladewila immediately left the seat

of Tawadeintha, and directed his aerial course towards the palace of

Thoodaudana. Having entered into the palace and occupied the place

prepared for him, he conveyed to the king the good tidings of a son

having been born unto him.

A few days after this message, the royal child was brought into the

presence of his rejoicing father. Kaladewila was present on the

occasion. Thoodaudana ordered that the child should be attired with the

finest dress, and placed in the presence of the Rathee, in order to pay

him his respects. But the child rose up and set his two feet on the

curled hair of the venerable personage. The persons present on the

occasion, not knowing that a Buddha in his last existence never bows

down to any being, thought that the head of the imprudent child would be

split into seven parts as a punishment for his unbecoming behaviour. But

Kaladewila, rising up from his seat, and lifting up his hands to his

forehead, bowed respectfully to the infant Phralaong. The king,

astonished at such an unusual condescension from so eminent a personage,

followed his example, and out of respect prostrated himself before his

son.

By virtue of his great spiritual attainments, Kaladewila could recollect

at once all that had taken place during the forty preceding worlds, and

foresee all that would happen during the same number of future

revolutions of nature. On seeing the high perfections shining forth in

our Phralaong, he considered attentively whether he would become a

Buddha or not. Having ascertained that such a dignity was reserved for

him, he wished to know if the remaining period of his own existence

would permit him to witness the happy moment when he would be a Buddha.

To his deep regret, he foresaw that the end of his life would come

before the occurrence of that great event, and that he would have then

migrated to one of the seats of Arupa, and be, therefore, deprived of

the favour of hearing the law from his mouth. This foresight caused a

profound sadness in his heart, and abundant tears flowed from his eyes.

But when he reflected on the future destiny of the blessed child, he

could not contain within himself the pure joy that overflowed his soul.

The people present on the occasion soon observed the opposite emotions

which alternately affected the soul of Kaladewila. They asked him the

reason of such an unusual occurrence. "I rejoice," said he, "at the

glorious destiny of that child; but I feel sad and disconsolate when I

think that it will not be given to me to see and contemplate him clothed

with the dignity of Buddha. I bewail with tears my great misfortune."

With a view of assuaging his sorrow, Kaladewila, casting another glance

towards future events, eagerly sought to discover if, among his

relatives, there would not be at least one who would be so fortunate as

to see Phralaong in the nature of Buddha. He saw with inexpressible

delight that his nephew Nalaka would enjoy the blessing denied to

himself. Thereupon he went in all haste to his sister's house, inquiring

about her son. At his request the lad was brought into his presence.

"Beloved nephew," said the venerable Rathee, "thirty-five years

hence,[7] the son of King Thoodaudana will become a Buddha; you will

contemplate him in that sublime and exalted nature. From this day,

therefore, you shall embrace the profession of Rahan." The young man,

who descended from a long succession of wealthy noblemen, said within

himself, "My uncle, indeed, never says anything but under the impulse of

irresistible and cogent motives. I will follow his advice and will

become a recluse." He immediately ordered the purchase of the insignia

of his new profession, a patta, a thingan,[8] and other articles. His

head was shaved, and he put on the yellow garb. Attired in his new

dress, he looked all round, and saw that, amongst all beings, the

Rahans are by far the most excellent. Then turning towards the place

which Phralaong occupied, he prostrated himself five successive times in

that direction, rose up, placed the patta in its bag, threw it over his

shoulder, and directed his steps towards the solitude of Himawonta,

where he devoted himself to all the exercises of his profession. At the

time Phralaong became a Buddha, our hermit went to that great master,

learnt from him the works that lead to the state of perfect stability of

mind, returned back to his solitude, and attained to the perfection of

Rahanda by the practice of the eminent works. Seven months after his

return, the end of his existence arrived, when, disentangled from all

the ties that had hitherto kept him in the world of passions, he reached

the happy state of Neibban.

FOOTNOTES

[1] This country of Dewah is one of the sixteen countries, so

much celebrated in the Buddhistic annals, where the greatest

religious events have taken place. They are placed in the

centre, north, and north-west portions of Hindustan. In this

place was born the celebrated Dewadat, who became brother-in-law

to Buddha himself. But notwithstanding the close ties of

relationship that united him to so saintly a personage, Dewadat

is represented as the incarnation of evil, ever opposed to

Buddha in his benevolent designs in favour of human kind. At

last, in an attempt against his brother-in-law's life, he met

with a condign punishment. The earth burst open under his feet,

and, surrounded by devouring flames, he rolled down to the

bottom of the lowest hell, acknowledging, however, in the

accents of a true but tardy repentance, his errors and the

unconquerable power of Buddha. Three red-hot iron bars transfix

him perpendicularly, hanging him in an erect position, whilst

three other bars pierce him through the shoulders and the side.

For his repentance he is to be delivered hereafter from those

torments, and restored to earth, in order to acquire merits that

may entitle him to a better place in future existences. Some

accounts mention that he is to become a Pietzega Buddha. This

story respecting Dewadat has given rise in Burmah to a very

strange misconception. The Burmese, with their usual

thoughtlessness, on hearing of the particulars respecting the

sufferings and mode of death of our Saviour, concluded that he

must have been no other but Dewadat himself, and that, for

holding opinions opposite to those of Buddha, he suffered such a

punishment. The writer was not a little surprised to find in the

writings of the old Barnabite missionaries a lengthened

confutation of this erroneous supposition.

[2] According to Buddhistic notions, Buddha labours during his

mortal career for the benefit of all living beings. His

benevolent and compassionate heart, free from all partiality,

feels an ardent desire of opening before them the way that leads

to deliverance from the miseries of every succeeding existence,

and of bringing them finally to the never troubled state of

Neibban. Such a generous and benevolent disposition constitutes

the genuine characteristic of Buddha. The Brahmas, inhabiting

the sixteen seats of Rupa, are all but ripe for obtaining the

crowning point of Buddhistic perfection. They only wait for the

presence of a Buddha to unloose, by his preachings, the slender

ties that keep them still connected with this material world.

The Nats, though far less advanced in merits and perfection,

eagerly look forward for the apparition of that great personage,

who is to point out to them the means of freeing themselves from

the influence of passions, and thereby destroying in them the

principle of demerits. Men, also, in their state of probation

and trial, want the mighty aid of a Buddha, who will enable them

by his transcendent doctrine to advance in merits, so as either

to arrive at once at the ever-quiescent state of Neibban, or

progress gradually on the way. Hence, on his birth, Buddha is

ministered to by those three sorts of intelligent beings, who

are particularly destined to share in the blessings his coming

is designed to shower on them.

The mission of a Buddha is that of a saviour. His great object,

to make use of a Buddhistic expression, is, during his

existence, to procure the deliverance of all the beings that

will listen to his instructions and observe the precepts of the

law. He is distinguished by feelings of compassion and an ardent

love for all beings, as well as by an earnest desire of

labouring for their welfare. These are the true characteristics

of his heart. In this religious system mention is often made of

Pitzegabuddhas, who have all the science and merits of a Buddha,

but they are deficient in the above-mentioned qualities, which

form, as it were, the essence of a true and genuine Buddha. They

are never therefore honoured with the noble appellation of

Buddha.

[3] The Chinese, Cochin-Chinese, Cingalese, and Nepaulese

Legends all agree in attributing to Phralaong the use of reason

from the moment he was born, as well as the power of uttering

with a proud accent the following words: "I am the greatest of

all beings; this is my last existence." To his own eyes he must

have appeared in this world without any competitor, since he

knew already that he was destined to release countless beings

from the trammels of existence, and lead them to a state of

perfect rest, screened for ever from the incessant action of

merits and demerits. He alone whose mind is deeply imbued with

Buddhistic notions can boast exultingly that he has at length

arrived at his last existence, and that, within a few years, he

will escape out of the whirlpool of endless existences, wherein

he has been turning and fluctuating from a state of happiness to

one of wretchedness. This perpetual vicissitude is to him the

greatest evil, the opposite of which is, therefore, the greatest

good. No wonder, then, to hear our Phralaong, who was better

acquainted with the miseries attending existence than any one

else, exclaiming with the accents of a complete joy--"This is my

last existence."

The Burmese translator seems delighted to remark that on two

former occasions Phralaong, then an infant, had spoken distinct

words, which he addressed to his mother. This happened in the

beginning of the two existences during which he practised two of

the ten great virtues. It took place first on the day he was

born to that existence, when, under the name of Mahauthata, he

displayed consummate skill and wisdom. The legend of Mahauthata

is a very amusing performance, written in a very pure language,

and relating stories about as credible as those we read in the

Arabian Tales of a Thousand and One Nights. What surprised the

writer not a little, was to find, in perusing that composition,

a decision given by our Mahauthata, in a case perfectly similar

to that which showed forth, in the presence of all Israel, the

incomparable wisdom of Solomon. When Phralaong practised the

last and most perfect of virtues, liberality, carried to its

farthest limits, ending in perfect abnegation of self, and

renouncing all that he possessed, he entered, too, into this

world with the faculty of speech, and became a prince under the

name of Wethandra. The legend of Wethandra is by far the best of

all. Taking it as a mere romance, it is replete with

circumstantial details well calculated to excite the finest

emotions of the heart. The latter part, in particular, can

scarcely be read without heart-moving feelings of pity and

commiseration, on beholding our Phralaong parting willingly with

all his property, with his wife and his lovely children, and

finally offering his own person, to satisfy the ever-renewed

calls on his unbounded generosity.

[4] In Burmah the use of the white umbrella is limited to the

king and idols. The former can never move without having some

one to hold over his head this distinguishing mark of royalty.

Any one who has been introduced into the palace of Amerapoora

will not have forgotten how great was his satisfaction on

beholding the white umbrella towering above the sides of

passages, and moving in the direction he was sitting in. He knew

that the time of his expectation was at an end, and that in a

moment he would behold the golden face.

[5] In glancing over the genealogy of the twenty-eight last

Buddhas, the writer has observed that every Buddha has always

obtained the supreme intelligence under the shadow of some

trees. Our Phralaong, as will be seen hereafter, attained to the

exalted dignity of Buddha under the tree Baudhi (_ficus

religiosa_), which grew up spontaneously at the very moment he

was born. The writer has never been able to discover any

well-grounded reason to account for this remarkable

circumstance, so carefully noted down, relating the particulars

attending the elevation of a being to this high station. For

want of a better one, he will be permitted to hazard the

following conjecture. Our Phralaong, previous to his becoming a

Buddha, withdrew into solitude for the purpose of fitting

himself for his future calling, in imitation of all his

predecessors, leading an ascetic life, and devoting all his

undivided attention and mental energies to meditation and

contemplation, coupled with works of the most rigorous

mortification. The senses, he knew well, were to be submitted to

the uncontrolled sway of reason, by allowing to himself only

what was barely requisite for supporting nature. Regardless of

every comfort, his mind was bent upon acquiring the sublime

knowledge of the principle and origin of all things, on

fathoming the miseries of all beings, and on endeavouring to

discover the most efficacious means of affording them a thorough

relief, by pointing out to them the road they had to follow in

order to disentangle themselves from the trammels of existence,

and arrive at a state of perfect rest. In common with all other

ascetics, our Phralaong had no other shelter against the

inclemency of the seasons but the protecting shadow of trees. It

was under the cooling and refreshing foliage of the trees of the

forests, that he spent his time in the placid and undisturbed

work of meditation, acquiring gradually that matchless knowledge

and consummate wisdom which he needed for carrying on to

perfection the benevolent undertaking he had in contemplation.

[6] It is a maxim generally received amongst Buddhists, that

he who has far advanced in the way of perfection acquires

extraordinary privileges both in his soul and his body. The

latter obtains a sort of spiritualised nature, or rather matter

becomes so refined and purified that he is enabled to travel

over distances with almost the rapidity of the thought of the

mind. The former, by the help of continual meditation on the

causes and nature of all things, enlarges incessantly its sphere

of knowledge. The remembrance of the past revives in the mind.

From the lofty position such a being is placed in, he calmly

considers and watches the movement of events that will take

place in future times. The more his mind expands, and the sphere

of his knowledge extends, the greater are the perfections and

refinements attending the coarser part of his being.

[7] According to the prophecy of Kaladewila, Phralaong is to

become Buddha when thirty-five years old. The total duration of

his life being eighty years, it follows that he has lived as

Buddha forty-five years. The advice of the old Rathee to his

nephew Nalaka, to become a Rahan in order to better dispose

himself to welcome the coming of Buddha, and listen with greater

benefit to his preachings, leads me to make a remark and write

down an observation that has been already alluded to. From this

passage and many others which the reader will easily notice

hereafter, as well as from the example of Buddha himself, one

must suppose that at the time Phralaong was born, some

institutions, the most important one at least, viz., that of the

Rahans, recluses, or monks, already existed in a more or less

perfect state. Relying solely on the authority of this Legend,

no attempt at denying this supposition can ever be made.

Kaladewila speaks of the order of Rahans as of a thing well

known. Nalaka sends to the bazaar for the purchase of the dress

and other articles he wanted for his new mode of life.

Phralaong, on his way to his garden, sees a Rahan, whose habits

and manners are described to him by his coachman. Having become

Buddha, he meets with ascetics and recluses living in community,

leading a life much resembling that which he is supposed to have

hereafter instituted, holding but few opinions, which, according

to his own standard, were heretical. From these facts flows the

natural conclusion that Gaudama is not the inventor or

originator of all the Buddhistic disciplinary institutions. He

found among the multifarious sects of Brahminism many practices

and ordinances which he approved of and incorporated or embodied

in his new system. This is another proof, amounting to a

demonstration, that Buddhism is an offshoot of the great Hindu

system. In this respect, Gaudama borrowed largely from what he

found existing in his own days, in the schools he resorted to,

and re-echoed many tenets upheld by the masters under whom he

studied the sciences and the training to morals and virtue. He

enlarged and developed certain favourite theories and principles

which had found favour with him; at the same time, for the

purpose of leading his disciples to perfection, he enforced many

disciplinary regulations, almost similar to those he had been

subjected to during the years of his probation. He was certainly

an ardent promoter of the perfected and improved system he

endeavoured to introduce.

[8] The Thingan or Tsiwaran is composed of three parts--the

thinbaing, resembling an ample petticoat, bound up to the waist,

with a leathern girdle, and falling down to the heels; the

kowot, which consists of a sort of cloak of a rectangular shape,

covering the shoulders and breast, and reaching somewhat below

the knee; and the dougout, which is a piece of cloth of the same

shape, folded many times, thrown over the left shoulder when

going abroad, and used to sit on when no proper seat has been

prepared. The colour of these three pieces, constituting the

dress of a recluse, is invariably yellow. The jack-tree supplies

the material for dyeing the cloth yellow. In order to maintain a

spirit of perfect poverty among the members of the order of the

recluse, the Wini prescribes that the tsiwaran ought to be made

up with rags picked up here and there, and sewed together. The

rule, in this respect, at least as far as its spirit goes, is

thoroughly disregarded, and has become almost a dead letter.

The hairs of the head and the beard, being too often objects

which vanity turns to its own purposes, are, to say the least,

mere superfluities. A stern contemner of worldly things must, of

course, do away with things which may prove temptations to him,

or at least afford him unnecessary trouble. Hence no layman can

ever aspire to become a Rahan unless he has previously submitted

to the operation of a complete shaving of the head, including

even the eye-brows.

The Life or Legend of Gaudama, the Buddha of the Burmese (Volume I) · 第 2 / 12 章