_Buddha's proceedings in the seat of Tawadeintha -- His
triumphant return to the seat of men, in the city of Thin-ka-tha
-- He is calumniated by the heretics of Thawattie -- Eighth
season spent in the forest of Tesakala -- Subsequent preachings
-- He meets with a bad reception in the Kothambi country --
Dissension among the disciples -- Reconciliation -- Travels of
Buddha -- Preaching to a Pounha who tilled a field._
While Buddha was in the seat of Tawadeintha all the Nats came from more
than ten thousand worlds to his presence; but the glory that always
encompasses their bodies disappeared, or was completely outshone by that
of Buddha's person. His mother, a daughter of Nats, came from the seat
of Toothita to see her son and hear his instructions. She sat on his
right. Two sons of Nats stood by the right and left of his mother. The
crowd was so great that it covered a surface of eighteen youdzanas. In
that immense assembly two Nats were conspicuous by their particular
demeanour and position. One of them stood so close to Buddha as to touch
almost one of his knees, the other was standing in a respectful position
afar off. Buddha asked the latter what he had done to deserve the place
he occupied. He answered that, during former existences, he had made
abundant alms indeed, but his merits had been comparatively small,
because he had not done those good works to persons eminent for their
sanctity. The same question was put to the other Nat, who said that he
was, in a former existence, living in very narrow circumstances, but
that he had had the good fortune of giving alms, according to his
limited means, to persons who were much advanced in merits. With a voice
that was heard by the crowds on the seat of men, Buddha proclaimed the
immense advantage of giving alms to and supporting the Rahans and those
advanced in perfection. They were, said he, like good seed sown on a
good field, that yields an abundance of good fruits. But alms given to
those who are as yet under the tyrannical yoke of passions are like a
seed deposited in a bad soil; the passions of the receiver of alms
choke, as it were, the growth of merits. At the conclusion, the two Nats
obtained the reward of Thautapan. The crowds on earth had also the
benefit of hearing his instructions.
Whilst Buddha was in the middle of the Nats, he announced the law of
Abidama to his mother. Having to go about to get his food, Buddha
created a likeness of another Buddha, whom he commissioned to continue
the preaching of the Abidama. As to himself, he went to the mountain of
Himawonta, ate the tender branches of a certain tree, washed his face in
the lake Anawadat, and partook of the food he received from the Northern
Island. Thariputra went thither to render him all necessary services.
When he had eaten his meal, he called Thariputra, and desired him to go
and preach the law of Abidama to five hundred Rahans, who were present
when the display of wonders took place, and were much pleased with it.
In the time of the Buddha Kathaba those five hundred Rahans were bats,
living in a cave much resorted to by Rahans, who were wont to repeat the
Abidama. Those bats contrived to retain a certain number of words, the
meaning whereof they could not understand. When they died, they were
transferred into one of the seats of Nats; and when they became men
anew, they had the good fortune to be born from illustrious parents, in
the country of Thawattie, and when Phra showed his powers, they were
much pleased. They became Rahans under Thariputra, and were the first to
understand perfectly the sublime law of Abidama.
As to Buddha, he returned to the seat of Tawadeintha and continued the
instructions, where the Buddha of his creation had left them. At the
end of three months' preaching, an innumerable number of Nats knew and
understood the four great principles. As to his mother, she obtained the
perfection of Thautapan.
The time when Buddha was to return to the seat of men was near at hand.
The crowds, eager to know the precise time when Buddha was to come back
among them, went to Maukalan to ascertain from him the precise day on
which they would be blessed with his presence. "Well," said Maukalan to
the people, "in a very short time I will give you an answer on the
subject of your inquiry." That very instant he plunged to the bottom of
the earth and reappeared, but when he was at the foot of the Mienmo
mountain, he ascended, in the view of the crowd whom he had left, and
soon arrived in the presence of Buddha, to whom he explained the object
of his errand. "My son," answered Buddha, "in what country does your
brother Thariputra spend his season?" "In the city of Thin-ka-tha,"
replied Maukalan. "Well," said Buddha, "seven days hence, at the full
moon of Thadin-kioot (October), I will descend near the gate of
Thin-ka-tha city; go and tell the people that those who desire to see me
must go to that country, distant thirty youdzanas from Thawattie. Let no
one take any provision; but by a rigorous abstinence let them dispose
themselves to hear the law that I will preach." Maukalan, having paid
his respects to Buddha, returned to the place where the assembled
multitude anxiously waited for him. He related to them all the
particulars regarding his interview with Buddha, and conveyed to them
the much-wished-for intelligence of his speedy return on earth.
On the day of the full moon of Thadin-kioot (October), Buddha disposed
himself to go down to the seat of men. He called a prince of Thagias and
directed him to prepare everything for his descent. Complying with his
request, the Thagia prepared three ladders or stairs, one made of
precious stones, occupying the middle; one on the right made of gold;
and a third, made of silver, on the left. The foot of each ladder rested
on the earth, near to the gate of Thin-ka-tha city, and their summits
leaned on the top of the Mienmo mountain. The middle ladder was for
Buddha, the golden one for the Nats, and that of silver for the Brahmas.
Having reached the summit of the steps, Buddha stopped awhile, and
resolved to make a fresh display of his power. He looked upwards, and
all the superior seats of Brahmas were distinctly descried; on his
looking downwards, his eyes could see and plunge into the bottom of the
earth to the lowest hell. The Nats of more than a thousand systems could
see each other. Men could perceive Nats in their fortunate seats, and
Nats saw men in their terrestrial abode. The six glories streamed forth
with an incomparable splendour from Buddha's person, which became
visible to all the crowds. There was not one who did not praise Buddha.
Having the Nats on his right, and the Brahmas on his left, the most
glorious Phra began his triumphant coming down. He was preceded by a
Nat, holding a harp in his hands and playing the most melodious tunes;
another Nat fanned him; a chief of Brahmas held over him a golden
umbrella. Surrounded with that brilliant _cortege_, Buddha descended
near the gate of Thin-ka-tha city, and stopped there for awhile.
Thariputra came forthwith into the presence of Buddha, paid him his
respects at a becoming distance, and said, with a heart overflowing with
joy: "On this day, O most glorious Buddha, all the Nats and men are
showing their love to you." Buddha replied: "Blessed is Thariputra, and
blessed are all those who rejoice on my account. Men and Nats love him
who is acquainted with the sublime law, who has put an end to his
passions, and who has attained to the highest state of contemplation."
At the end of his discourse, innumerable beings understood the four
great principles, and the five hundred Rahans whom Thariputra was
commissioned to instruct reached the state of Arahat. On the spot where
all Buddhas set their feet, when coming from the seat of Tawadeintha, a
dzedi[1] has always been erected.
Buddha, on leaving Thin-ka-tha, shaped his course towards Wethalie, and
took his abode in the Dzetawon monastery. The fame of the wonders he had
performed increased his reputation, and elicited from the people fresh
tokens of respect and veneration. Alms poured from all quarters into the
monastery; the liberality of the people towards his person and that of
his disciples expanded in a wonderful manner. The heretics, who swarmed
in Wethalie and its neighbourhood, became exceedingly jealous of
Buddha's successes. The loss which they sustained in the donations of
the people added fuel to the inward discontent. They resolved to devise
some means to lower the character of Buddha in the opinion of the
people. After a long deliberation, they fixed on the following plan:--A
certain woman of great beauty, but of a rather doubtful character, was
induced to join them in accusing Gaudama of having violated her. She
contrived to assume the appearance of a person in a state of pregnancy,
and, covering herself with a piece of red cloth, she went about the town
spreading evil reports respecting Buddha's character. She had the
impudence even to go into the Dzetawon monastery, and ask Buddha to
provide a place for her approaching confinement, and likewise
maintenance for herself and the child she was by him pregnant with. Such
an infamous calumny did not, however, move him in the least. Conscious
of his innocence, he lost nothing of his usual composure and serenity.
But by the interference of the Thagia the slander was made manifest. Two
mice bit the strings that kept tied up on the abdomen the apparatus
designed to prop up the deceit, and, on a sudden, the whole fell on the
ground, proclaiming at once the innocence of the sage and smiting his
enemies with confusion.
Every one present on the occasion gave vent to his just indignation at
such a base attempt on the part of the heretics. But Buddha meekly
replied that what had just happened was a righteous retribution for a
misbehaviour of his own during a former existence. At that time, he was
on a certain day under the influence of liquor, when he chanced to meet
on his way a Pitzegabuddha. Without any reason or provocation, he abused
the holy man with the lowest and coarsest expressions, and went so far
as to tell him that his whole life was but a series of hypocritical
actions. Turning then towards his disciples, he added, with a grave
countenance, that what they had now witnessed was the just punishment
inflicted on him under the influence of the demerit created and
generated by his former evil doing.
The eighth season was spent in the grove or forest of Tesakala, and when
the rains were over, the most excellent Phra travelled throughout the
country, preaching and teaching the right way to many. Countless
converts entered one of the four ways, and many obtained at once the
deliverance.
In the town of Santoo-maragiri, he was preaching to the benefactors who
had fed him and his disciples. Among the hearers were two persons,
Nakoulapita and Nakoulamata, husband and wife, belonging to the pounha
race. During a great many successive former existences they had had the
good fortune to be father, mother, uncle, aunt, &c., to Buddha. During
the present existence the feeling of affection towards him with whom
they had been so long and so intimately connected was powerfully
awakened and glowed in their hearts. Under the influence of that
natural, kindly, and tender feeling, they came forward, and prostrating
themselves before Gaudama, said to him: "Dear son, how is it that you
have been away from us for so long a while? We are so happy to see you
after so long an absence." Buddha, remaining indifferent to such a scene
and language, knew at once what were the real wants of that good couple,
and in what manner he could acknowledge the great favours he had during
former existences received at their hands. He preached to them the most
excellent law. They were thoroughly converted. The next morning they had
the happiness to supply their great teacher and his company with the
choicest food. Meanwhile they addressed to him the following request:
"During many existences we both have always been happily united: not a
word of complaint or quarrel has ever passed between us. We pray that in
our coming existences the same love and affection may ever unite us
together." Their request was affectionately granted, and Buddha, in the
presence of a large assembly, pronounced them blessed and happy amongst
all men and women.
The son of the ruler of the country where these things happened was, to
his great affliction, childless. He invited Buddha to come and partake
of his hospitality in his house. The offer was accepted. Great
preparations were made for the reception of the illustrious visitor. The
prince had some of his own clothes laid on the way that Buddha was to
follow, in the hope that by treading over them he might communicate a
certain virtue, whereby he would have the object of his earnest desire
realised. On his arrival near the entrance of the house, Buddha stopped
and refused to proceed farther. Meanwhile, he beckoned Ananda to remove
the clothes. This was done accordingly, to the prince's deep
disappointment. After the meal, Gaudama explained to him that he and his
wife during a former existence had lived on eggs and had killed many
birds. Their present barrenness was the just punishment of their former
trespassing; but their actual good dispositions having atoned for the
past transgressions, they would be blessed with children. Both were
overjoyed at this news. They believed in Buddha, obtained the state of
Thautapan, and thereby entered into the current of perfection. Their
faith in Buddha's word procured for them so happy a result.
During all the time that elapsed after the rain, Buddha travelled
through the country, engaged on his usual benevolent errand, and
converting many among men and Nats. In the country of Garurit, in a
village of pounhas called Magoulia, the head man, one of the richest in
the place, had a daughter whose beauty equalled that of a daughter of
Nats. She had been in vain asked in marriage by princes, nobles, and
pounhas. The proud damsel had rejected every offer. On the day that her
father saw Gaudama, he was struck with his manly beauty and meek
deportment. He said within himself: "This man shall be a proper match
for my daughter." On his return home he communicated his views to his
wife. On the following day, the daughter having put on her choicest
dress and richest apparels, they all three went with a large retinue to
the Dzetawon monastery. Admitted to the presence of Buddha, the father
asked for his daughter the favour of being allowed to attend on him.
Without returning a word of reply, or giving the least sign of
acceptance or refusal, Buddha rose up and withdrew to a small distance,
leaving behind him on the floor the print of one of his feet. The
pounha's wife, well skilled in the science of interpreting wonderful
signs, saw at a glance that the marks on the print indicated a man no
longer under the control of passions, but a sage emancipated from the
thraldom of concupiscence. She communicated her views to her husband,
who had the impudence to go to Buddha's presence and renew the same
offer. Buddha meekly replied: "Pounha, I neither accept nor decline your
offer; in your turn, listen to what I have to say." He then went on to
relate how he had left the world, resisted Manh's temptation, lived in
solitude for six years, and freed himself from the net of passions. He
concluded by stating that, having become a Buddha, he had for ever
conquered all passions. At the conclusion of the instruction, both
father and mother became established in the state of Thautapan. The
damsel was highly offended at the refusal she experienced, and retained
a strong feeling of hatred towards him who had declined her proffered
favours. Her father took her into the Kothambi country, where she was
offered to the ruler, who, smitten with her charms, elevated her to the
rank of first queen.
In the country of Kothambi, there lived three rich men. These three men
fed during the rainy season every year five hundred hermits, who came
from the Himalaya range for the purpose of obtaining their maintenance.
These charitable laymen went over to Wethalie for the purpose of trade.
There they met Buddha, and earnestly pressed him to come to their
country and preach the law. The invitation was accepted. They returned
home, and built for the accommodation of the illustrious visitor each of
them one monastery. When all was ready, Buddha went to Kothambi,
attended by five hundred disciples. He spent there the ninth season.
During his stay he dwelt by turns in each of the three monasteries, and
was abundantly supported by the rich man in whose monastery he took his
abode.
In the country of Kothambi there were as yet few disciples or believers
in Buddha; but the number of holders of false doctrines was exceedingly
great. Secretly supported by the first queen, and actuated by jealousy
against the new-comer, they reviled him and his disciples in every
possible way, and did their utmost to destroy in public opinion his
rising fame. Whenever they met Buddha's disciples, they abused them with
the coarsest language. Unable to bear any longer so many insults,
Ananda, in the name of his brethren, went to Buddha, and asked him to
remove to some other place, where they would receive a becoming
treatment. "But," said Buddha, "if we be ill-treated in the new place we
go to, what is to be done?" "We shall proceed to some other place,"
replied Ananda. "But," retorted Buddha, "if in that new place we be
likewise reviled, what then?" "We shall," replied Ananda, "remove to
some other place." Buddha remained silent for awhile, and, casting a
gentle glance on Ananda, said to him: "A little patience will save us
the trouble of so many travels, and certainly procure for us here what
we may perhaps vainly look for anywhere else. By patience and endurance
the wise man conquers all his enemies. Behold the war-elephant; he
plunges into the thickest of the raging conflict, regardless of the
darts and arrows flying in every direction, and carries all before him.
I, too, the most excellent Buddha, shall certainly stay here, diligently
preach the most excellent law, and perseveringly labour to disentangle
men from the net of passions. In no way shall I care for the abuses they
may pour on me and my disciples."
Not long after this a trifling accident kindled the fire of dissension
among the members of the assembly. The subject was, as usual, of a
trifling nature. It was concerning a point of discipline of scarcely any
importance, infringed unintentionally by a Rahan. He was accused by one
of his brethren of having committed a sin. But he replied that, having
done an act in which his will had not participated, he did not consider
himself guilty. Each disputant attracted to his party some religious who
supported his view of the case. The Kothambi Rahans seem to have been
the cause of the disunion which prevailed in the community, and soon,
like a devouring flame, extended to the female portion of the assembly.
In vain Gaudama interfered, and exhorted the two parties to patience,
union, and charity. In his presence the parties were silent, but in his
absence the quarrel grew worse. At last his entreaties were unheeded,
and discord continued to rend asunder the bond of unity. Disgusted with
such a state of things, Buddha preached to the most distinguished
members of the assembly the blessings of peace and concord. Such men as
Baddia, Kimila, and Anourouddha, treasured up in their heart the
instructions of their great master. But others continued the dispute.
Meanwhile he resolved to separate himself for a time from all company,
and to go to a lonely spot to enjoy the happiness of peace and
meditation. He shaped his course towards the village of Palelayaka,
where he received his food, and went into a grove of sala-trees, to fix
his residence at the foot of one of those trees. The villagers, hearing
of his intention, hastened to the spot, and built a hermit's hut for his
use, and promised to supply him daily with his food.
It was in this place that, delighting in the contemplation of unclouded
truth, Gaudama spent the tenth season alone. The rich men of the
Kothambi country, hearing that Buddha had departed because of the
dissension that took place among the Rahans, became indignant. They
openly declared their fixed intent of refusing to give anything for the
maintenance of the Rahans, until they agreed among themselves, and
became reconciled with their teacher. The timely threat had the desired
effect. The disputants felt the unpleasant seriousness of their uneasy
position. They could hold on no longer. The Rahans came to an agreement
among themselves, and promised that after the season they would go to
Buddha and solicit his pardon. In the forest of Paleliaka there lived a
certain elephant, much advanced in merits, which went to Buddha, and,
during three months, ministered to all his wants, as a most affectionate
and devoted disciple would do towards a beloved master.
The three months of Lent being completed, the rich man Anatapein made
earnest inquiries with Ananda, respecting the place Buddha had withdrawn
to, and charged him to invite the great preacher to come back to
Thawattie, and live as usual in the Dzetawon monastery. Complying with
the pious wishes of the rich man, Ananda took with himself five hundred
Rahans, and went to the solitude of Paleliaka. He was likewise followed
by the five hundred refractory Rahans of Kothambi, who had come to
Wethalie. The ruler of the country and Anatapein had refused at first to
receive them. But the prohibition had been removed on account of their
repentance. He approached alone the place where Buddha was living. After
the usual prostrations, Gaudama inquired whether he had come alone. He
replied that there were with him many of his faithful disciples and the
Kothambi Rahans. The latter came with the express purpose of asking his
pardon, and a firm resolution to yield henceforward a perfect obedience
to all his commands. Buddha desired them to appear in his presence. They
came, were there well received, and their misbehaviour was forgiven.
Gaudama explained to them the great advantage of shunning bad company
and of living in retirement. The hearers were fully converted and
established in the state of Thautapan. Buddha, on his return to
Wethalie, continued preaching in every direction, and led to the
deliverance a great number of men, Nats, and Brahmas. The stay in the
Dzetawon monastery was not very long. Buddha went into the Magatha
country, to a pounha village, named Nala. Not far from that village
there is the Deckinagiri, or southern mountain, with a monastery. In
that place Buddha spent the eleventh season.[2] His supporters were the
pounhas of the village. The chief occupation of those men was the
tillage of the fields. Gaudama took a particular pleasure during his
daily walks in conversing with them, when he met them engaged in their
daily labours.
One day Buddha went into the fields, where he met a pounha, with whom he
began to converse, in the intention of ultimately preaching to him the
holy law. He spoke at first on the subject of his daily labour, his
bullocks, his plough, the seed, and the harvest, which supplied the
pounha and his family with their daily food during the year. He added:
"I, too, am a labourer, provided with the seed and all the implements
necessary for carrying on tillage." The pounha, surprised at what he
heard, asked Buddha in what place he had left his bullocks, the seed,
the plough, &c. The latter coolly replied: "All these things are with me
at present. Hearken, O pounha, to what I am about to state. The seed is
that fervent desire, that benevolent disposition, which prompted me at
the foot of the Buddha Deipinkara to ask for the Buddhaship: it is the
science which I have gathered under the tree Bodi. The rain water is
that uninterrupted series of good works performed by me, until I have
become a Buddha. They have been as the means of watering the good seed
which was in me. The knowledge, or science, and wisdom are as the yoke,
as well as the plough-shaft. The heart, or the knowing principle which
is in me, represents the reins that serve to guide the bullocks. The
teeth of the plough represent the diligence that must be used in
attending to the eradicating of the principle of demerits and of bad
works. The plough-handle represents the guiding principle of the law,
which enables me to remove all that is bad, and promote what is good.
The food which you, O pounha, derive from your exertions, represents the
pure relish which is tasted by him who is bent on avoiding evil and
doing good. When you make use of the plough, you cut or uproot all bad
weeds. So it is with him who is penetrated with the full meaning of the
four great truths; he cuts and uproots from himself the wicked
inclinations and low propensities that are in him. When the labour of
the field is over, you unyoke your bullocks and leave them to go
whithersoever they please; so it is with the wise man. By application to
invigorating the principle of good that leads to perfection, he lets go
the opposite principle which gives rise to all imperfections. The
bullocks have to work hard to complete the work of tillage. So the sage
has to struggle hard, to till perfectly and cultivate thoroughly the
soil of his own being, and reach the happy state of Neibban. The
husbandman who labours so much for bringing his field into a position to
receive the seed, and in every way to favour its growth, is imitated by
the true sage who endeavours to free himself from the miseries attending
existence, to advance in the way of merits by the practice of good
works, and who thirsts after the happy condition of the perfect. He who
works in the field is sometimes disappointed, and feels occasionally the
pangs of hunger. He who works in the field of wisdom is exempt from all
miseries and afflictions. He eats the fruit of his labour. He is fully
satiated when he beholds Neibban. It is in this manner, O pounha, that I
am a true husbandman, and am always provided with all the implements
necessary for the tillage of man's soul." The pounha, delighted with
such doctrine, became a convert, and professed his belief in Buddha, the
law, and the assembly. Subsequently he applied for admittance into the
assembly, and by energetic efforts in the arduous work of meditation, he
became at last a Rahanda.
When the rains were over, Buddha travelled through the country,
preaching the most excellent law, with the happiest results. He went to
the town of Satiabia, in the Kosala country. There he received from a
pounha of Waritzaba an invitation to go to that place. The invitation
was graciously accepted. In that town he spent the twelfth season. A
great many pounhas were enlightened and converted by professing their
firm adherence to the three precious things. The vile Manh Nat did his
utmost to thwart the beneficial results of Buddha's preachings. A great
dearth prevailing in the country, he did all that he could to starve the
most excellent Buddha and all his followers. But he was frustrated in
his iniquitous design by the charity of five hundred horse merchants,
who had come from Outharapata, and were then staying in Waritzaba.
Buddha, leaving this country, shaped his course through the great
Mantala country; he travelled by the shortest route, a distance of 500
youdzanas. He started on the day after the full moon of Tabodway, and
spent nearly five months in this voyage. He reached the banks of the
Ganges at Gayagati, where he crossed the mighty stream and went to
Benares. He had not been long in that city, when he recrossed the Ganges
and went to Wethalie, dwelling in the Gootagarathala monastery. Thence
he went into Thawattie, preaching through all the places he visited.
When he was in the Dzetawon monastery, he delivered the Maha Rahula
instruction for the benefit of his son Rahula, who then was eighteen
years old.
FOOTNOTES
[1] The religious edifices that are to be met with in all parts
of Burmah deserve a particular notice. They are called dzedis in
all the Buddhist writings of the Burmese, but the people
generally speak of them under the appellation of Payas or Phras,
which, in this instance, is merely a title of honour of a
religious character.
Dzedis, in the earliest days of Buddhism, were sacred tumuli
raised upon a shrine, wherein relics of Buddha had been
deposited. These structures were as so many lofty witnesses,
bearing evidence to the presence of sacred and precious objects,
intended to revive in the memory of the faithful the remembrance
of Buddha, and foster in their hearts tender feelings of
devotion and a glowing fervour for his religion.
From the perusal of this legend, it will appear that dzedis were
likewise erected on the tombs of individuals who, during their
lifetime, had obtained great distinction by their virtues and
spiritual attainments among the members of the assembly. Buddha
himself ordered that a monument should be built over the shrine
containing the relics of the two great disciples, Thariputra and
Maukalan. In Burmah, no dzedis of great dimensions and
proportions have ever been erected on the ashes of distinguished
Phongyies. In some parts, however, particularly in the upper
country, there may be seen here and there some small dzedis, a
few feet high, erected on the spot where have been deposited the
remains of some saintly personages. These monuments are little
noticed by the people, though, on certain occasions, a few
offerings of flowers, tapers, &c., are made around and in front
of them.
Similar kinds of religious edifices have been built sometimes
also to become a receptacle of the Pitagat, or collection of the
holy scriptures. One of the finest temples of Ceylon was devoted
to that purpose. There was also one in the ancient city of Ava,
but I am not aware that there is any of this kind at Amarapoora.
Finally, dzedis have been erected for the sole purpose of
harbouring statues of Gaudama; but there is every reason to
believe that this practice gained ground in subsequent ages.
When a fervent Buddhist, impelled by the desire of satisfying
the cravings of his piety and devotion, wished to build a
religious monument, and could not procure relics, he then
remained contented by supplying the deficiency with images of
Buddha representing that eminent personage, in attitudes of body
that were to remind Buddhists of some of the most striking
actions of his life. In many instances, dzedis have been built
up, not even for the sake of sheltering statues, but for the
pious purpose of reminding the people of the holy relics of
Buddha, and, as they used to say, for kindling in the soul a
tender feeling of affectionate reverence for the person of
Buddha and his religion. If what is put forward as a plea for
building pagodas be founded on conviction and truth, we must
conclude that the inhabitants of the valley of the Irrawaddy are
most devotedly religious, as the mania for building dzedis has
been, and even now is, carried to such a pitch as to render
almost fabulous the number of religious buildings to be seen on
an extent of above seven hundred miles as far as Bhamo.
As Buddhism was imported from India into Eastern Asia there is
no doubt that the style of architecture adopted in the erection
of religious edifices came from the same quarter. To the native
genius of the Burmese we may allow the merit of ornamental
architecture for the great monasteries, and a few details of the
exterior decorations of the religious monuments; but no one will
take offence at refusing to the tribes that occupy the basin of
the Irrawaddy the merit of originating the plan of such
monuments as those to be seen in some parts of the country. It
is much to their credit that they have been able to raise such
mighty fabrics with the imperfect knowledge they possess and the
very limited means at their disposal. The resemblance that
exists between the much-defaced Buddhist monuments yet to be met
with in some parts of India and at Java, and those now studding
the banks of the Irrawaddy, leaves no doubt respecting the
origin of the shape and form of such monuments.
At first sight, the traveller in Burmah believes that there is a
great variety in the shape and architecture of pagodas. He is
easily led astray by many fantastical ornaments that have been
added by inexperienced natives to religious monuments. After,
however, a close examination of those edifices, it seems that
they can be arranged into three distinct classes, to which those
presenting minor differences may be referred. The first class
comprises those which have a cone-like appearance, though much
enlarged in the direction of the base. These are without niches,
or rather ought to be without niches, as the small ones to be
seen added to those monuments indicate that they are no
essential appendage of the building, but rather the fanciful and
tasteless work of some devotees. The pagodas of Rangoon, Pegu
and Prome offer the finest specimens of this order of edifices.
The second class includes those of a dome-like shape. They are
not common in Burmah. The finest and grandest specimen is that
of the Kaong-hmoo-dau, or great meritorious work, situated west
of the ancient city of Tsagain. In the third class we may place
all the pagodas that approximate to the temple form; that is to
say, all those that offer the shape of a more or less
considerable rectangle, with a large hall in the centre and
several galleries running throughout. Upon this rectangle a
conical structure is raised, ending as usual with the tee or
umbrella. The most remarkable and perfect specimens of this kind
are to be seen at Pagan, which may be aptly styled the City of
Pagodas.
The cone-shaped pagoda invariably rests on a quadrangular basis
a few feet high. The body of the cone in its lower part is an
hexagon or octagon, broad at first, then gradually and regularly
decreasing to two-thirds of its height. Upon it rises the
regular cone, which ends in a point covered with the gilt
umbrella.
The architectural ornaments of such structures are circular,
bold and round lines or mouldings; above this, to the place
where the cone begins, are sculptures, representing leaves
shooting from the middle part, one half upwards and the other
half downwards. That part is often divested of such ornaments,
as is the case with the Shoaydagon. On the sides of the cone are
horizontal lines grouped together; each group is separated by a
considerable distance, then comes a sculptured foliage,
different from the one already mentioned, but disposed in a like
manner. In the middle of the four sides of the base,
particularly in the one facing the East, the Burmese have
introduced the practice of making small niches for receiving the
statues representing Buddha in a cross-legged position. A
portico leads to them. On the four angles of the base they
likewise place griffins or sometimes fantastic figures of
monsters. Small dzedis are often disposed on the lower parts of
the hexagon or octagon. This kind of pagoda being naturally
destitute of all ornaments, and standing over a tomb or a
shrine, as a pillar that has gradually assumed the shape above
described, is a very ancient one, and probably coeval with the
earliest Buddhist religious monuments.
The second class of religious edifices is that of those that
exhibit a dome-like appearance. They are rather uncommon in
Burmah. They rest on a square basis. The lower part is adorned
with a few mouldings, but the greatest part offers a perfectly
even superficies. The umbrella that is placed on them partakes
somewhat of the appearance of the monument it is destined to
crown. It considerably expands in the horizontal direction, and
has a very ungraceful appearance. The Kaong-hmoo-dau in the
neighbourhood of Tsagain rests on a basis about 18 or 20 feet
high; the dome, according to an inscription, is 153 feet high,
the diameter, at the lowest part, is nearly 200 feet. The whole
was formerly gilt. The four sides of the square are lined with
small niches, each tenanted by a small statue of Gaudama.
Separated from the square by an open and well-paved gallery that
runs all round the edifice, are disposed in a row eight hundred
and two small pillars of sandstone, about 6 feet high, with
their upper part perforated, so as to afford room sufficient to
receive a lamp on festival days. Splendid must be the effect
produced during a dark night by so many lamps, pouring a flood
of light that illuminates on all sides the massive edifice.
Whether the monument was built about three hundred years ago, as
stated to the writer by one of the guardians, or, as it is most
probable, only repaired and adorned at that time, certain it is
that this kind of religious edifice is very ancient, and very
likely not inferior in antiquity to those above referred to.
Another of a similar form, but of much smaller dimensions, is to
be seen at Bhamo, not far from the eastern gate.
The third class of pagodas comprises all those that are
generally of a square form, not made of a solid masonry, but
with openings or doors, a room, galleries, &c., for receiving
statues of Gaudama. They are all surmounted with the usual
conical structure, which is, it seems, the essential appendage
to all dzedis. These edifices, in my opinion, are not to be
considered as tumuli or topes, but rather as places of worship,
and sanctuaries for the reception of the statues of Gaudama. The
monuments are, I suspect, of a comparative modern origin; they
have not the plainness and simplicity of the tumuli which agree
so well with the simplicity of the religious form of worship of
primitive Buddhism. They are not made to answer the purpose for
which dzedis were primitively raised. They must have been
erected at times when Buddhist worship, emerging from its
primeval sternness of form, assumed proportions and developments
congenial to the taste and wants of large religious communities.
This class of temples offers a great variety of forms as to the
size, dimensions, and details of architecture. But they may be
all brought to this general outline. From the square body of the
temple diverge, in the direction of the four points of the
compass, porticoes; the one facing the east is always the
largest and best adorned; sometimes there is but one portico,
that of the east, and there are only doors in the middle of the
three other sides. From these porticoes the galleries converge
towards the centre of the temple, where are statues. In the
large and magnificent pagodas of Pagan, galleries with vaults in
the pointed style run all round the building. Some of those
stupendous structures have two stories, and it is only on the
second that the conical part rests, which is the essential
complement of every religious building. On one of the
middle-sized pagodas rises, instead of a cone, an obelisk, with
ornaments that appear to resemble hieroglyphic figures. Some of
those obelisks swell considerably towards the middle of their
height. Great was the surprise and astonishment of the writer,
when he observed in the same place, among the prodigious number
of pagodas, in a more or less advanced state of decay, one, not
considerable by its dimensions, nor in a much-ruined condition,
that exhibited the solitary instance of a regular pyramid.
[2] The few particulars that have been gathered respecting the
mode that Buddha followed in disseminating his doctrines,
exhibit him in the light of a zealous and indefatigable
preacher. We see him passing from one place to another with the
sole purpose of instructing the ignorant and pointing out to
them the way leading to the deliverance. Bebar and Oude appear
to have been the seat of his labours, and the scene on which he
acted in behalf of all, without any distinction of condition,
caste, or sex. Individuals in the humblest walks of life, men
engaged in wicked practices, women of an abandoned character,
were all, to an equal degree, the object of his tender
solicitude. They were all summoned to come to his feet and
partake in the blessings that he had in store for them. Gaudama
was to an eminent degree an earnest and fervent propagandist.
This is a striking feature in his character, which distinguishes
him not only from all his contemporaries, but also from all the
philosophers that have appeared throughout the Indian peninsula.
All these sages aimed at becoming the heads of schools, but none
of them thought of promulgating a code of morals intended for
the whole human race. Gaudama has the honour of being the first
who, with enlarged views, looked upon his fellow-men as equally
entitled to the benefit of his instructions. His love of all men
prompted him to undergo all sorts of fatigue, to procure for
them what he imagined to be a great boon. In making this
statement we have no intention to pass an opinion on the
doctrines of the founder of Buddhism; we merely bring forward to
the notice of the reader a peculiar characteristic of that sage,
which, in our humble opinion, helps to account for the
extraordinary spread of Buddhism from the banks of the Oxus to
the Japanese archipelago. The tenets of that creed have become
popular, because they were intended for all. False though they
be, particularly in what has a reference to dogmas, they were
accepted by the masses, because there were no other proffered to
them. The disciples of Gaudama must have been well received in
the various places they went to, for they showed a disposition
of mind quite unknown in those days, viz., a lively interest in
the welfare of all. This zeal, which appeared so conspicuously
in Gaudama and during the first ages of Buddhism, has become all
but totally extinct. There is no desire on the part of those who
in our days follow that creed to propagate its tenets among
other nations or tribes.