BURMA AND BUDDHISM.
Burma is another country which was added to our list after leaving
home, but as its people are quite distinct from the inhabitants of
India and as it is one of the strongholds of Buddhism, we turned
aside to visit it en route from Ceylon to Calcutta. On the map it
occupies a part of the east side of the first of the three great
peninsulas that stretch down from Asia to the Indian ocean and is
separated from India proper by the Bay of Bengal. Its principal
stream is the Irawaddy, famed in story for the magnificent scenery
along its course and for the fertile valley through which it passes
on its way to the sea.
Rangoon, the seaport of Burma, is situated some twenty miles inland
upon a river of the same name, and has a harbor quite different
from those at Singapore and Colombo. At those places the passengers
on the incoming and outgoing steamers amuse themselves by tossing
silver coins into the transparent waters and watching the divers
catch them before they can reach the bottom, but at Rangoon the
water is so muddy that a diver would have difficulty in finding an
electric light. The depth of the water, too, is insufficient except
when the tide is high. But the city of Rangoon is substantially
built and has a number of fine business blocks and excellent public
buildings. A municipal hospital now in course of construction
surpasses anything which we have seen in the East. The park system
at Rangoon is very attractive, and one sees the well-to-do element
of the city fully represented there in the early evening. The roads
about Rangoon are good, but not equal to those of Ceylon and Java.
I have already spoken of the Java roads, and those of Ceylon are
not behind them. No one can see these well graded, well drained and
beautifully shaded highways without having his interest in good
roads quickened.
At Rangoon we saw the elephants at work in a lumber yard, but they
do not attract anything like the attention from the natives that
"Jumbo" and the "Baby Elephant" did in the United States during my
boyhood days. It is not necessary here for the head of the family
to take his wife and all the children to the circus in order that
the younger members of the family may catch a glimpse of one of
these ungainly beasts. In Burma the elephant is simply an everyday
beast of burden and earns his food as faithfully as the horse or
the ox. We saw three at work in the lumber yard which we visited,
the oldest of which is more than threescore and ten years, and has
labored industriously for more than fifty years. A native rides
upon his back and directs him by word, sometimes emphasized by an
iron pointed stick, and the huge fellow lifts, pushes and twists
the logs about with almost human intelligence. The elephant has an
eye for neatness, and one would hardly believe from hearsay with
what regularity and carefulness he works, moving from one end of
the log to the other until it is in exactly the right place. In
lifting he uses his tusks, kneeling when his work requires it.
In carrying large blocks of wood he uses both tusks and trunk.
Sometimes the elephant pushes a heavy log along the ground with
one of his forefeet, walking on the other three, but generally
the logs are drawn by a chain attached to a broad breast strap.
An eighteen-year-old elephant, working in the same yard, was thus
drawing heavy timbers and went about his work uncomplainingly so
long as he was permitted to draw one at a time, but when two of
these timbers were fastened together, he raised his voice in a
pathetic lament which grew more touching when he received a pointed
suggestion from his driver. These trumpetings were really terrifying
to a stranger, but did not seem to alarm the Burmese. The ears of
the old elephant showed signs of age; in fact, they were thin and
frayed with flapping and looked like drooping begonia leaves.
[Illustration: AN ELEPHANT AT WORK IN RANGOON.]
The elephants which we saw weighed about two tons each, and consumed
about 800 pounds of feed per day. When I was informed that an
elephant ate regularly one-fifth of his own weight per day, I
could understand better than ever before what it means to "have
an elephant on one's hands." The fact that they can be profitably
used in business shows their capacity for work. The old song that
credits the elephant with eating all night as well as all day is
founded on fact, for the animal requires but two hours' sleep out of
twenty-four, and when not otherwise employed, he puts in his time
eating.
[Illustration: THE PARK AT RANGOON.]
The elephant, notwithstanding his huge bulk and massive strength,
is a very timid animal, and can be put to flight by a dog or even
a rat. A short time ago a drove of Rangoon elephants was stampeded
by an automobile, and it is well known the shipping of an elephant
is a difficult task. The elephant has a small hole resembling a
knife cut, on the side of the head, and at times a watery fluid
is discharged therefrom. For some reason, apparently unknown, the
animal is subject to frenzy during the period of this discharge and
must be kept in confinement.
Mandalay, the second city of Burma, is 386 miles north of Rangoon,
by rail, and is situated on the Irawaddy river. Kipling, in his
poem, declares that "the flying fishes play," "on the road to
Mandalay," but he has been guilty of using poetic license. The
captain of one of the steamers warned us in advance that no flying
fish would be seen on the river, and one Englishman went so far
as to say that the poet had never been in Mandalay. We planned to
take a ride up the river, but our purpose was thwarted by a sandbar
which detained our boat from noon until the next morning, so that
our view of the river while very thorough at that point, was not
very extensive. Most tourists go to Mandalay by train and return as
far as Prome by boat, but the scenery is finer in the defiles above
Mandalay.
[Illustration: FIVE HUNDRED PAGODA AT MANDALAY.]
In going by land from Rangoon to Mandalay one sees nothing but
rice, but this is piled along the road in seemingly inexhaustible
quantities. One is reminded of the wheat and corn states of our
own country as he sees the piles of sacks and loose grain awaiting
shipment. While there are other industries in Burma, the rice
fields and the piles of teak wood are most in evidence. In northern
Burma there are some rich ruby mines and the jewelry stores are as
fascinating as those of Ceylon.
The gongs of Mandalay are famous throughout the world for richness
of tone, and carving in ivory, teak and sandalwood gives employment
to many artisans. Elephants and images of Buddha in wood, brass and
alabaster are exposed for sale in all the shops, and the silks are
delicate in texture and beautiful in color and design.
The Burmese have a large mixture of Chinese blood, as is shown by
their features and traits of character, but they are darker in
color. They are a cheerful and docile people, and their women have
never been the victims of seclusion that burdens the life of the
women of India. Both men and women wear gay colors, which lends
picturesqueness to the scenes of the street. In China and Japan
we were amused at the small pipes used by the men. In Burma one
is amazed at the enormous cigarettes--six inches long and an inch
thick--which the women smoke.
[Illustration: BURMESE WOMAN WITH CIGARETTE.]
In Burma, as in other Oriental countries, the streams are the
wash-tubs of the nation, and a flat stone takes the place of a
washboard. It was wash day on the Irawaddy when we started out on
our boat ride, and the bank of the river looked like a flower bed,
so bright and varied were the colors of the turbans and dresses of
the long row of washers swinging the clothes high above their heads
and beating them upon the stones.
[Illustration: BUDDHIST TEMPLE.]
Burma is the home of the pagoda; one is never out of sight of them,
but they differ in shape from those seen in China and Japan. The
Burmese pagoda is usually circular, though sometimes octagonal. The
largest of these is known as the Shwe Dagon Pagoda at Rangoon. It is
a solidly built pyramidal cone, with gradually diminishing outline
and is surmounted by a ti or "umbrella" spire of concentric iron
rings from which hang little bells which tinkle when moved by the
breeze. This pagoda has a circumference of 1,355 feet at the base,
rises to a height of 370 feet, and stands upon a terraced mound
which is itself 160 feet above the level of the country around.
The upper part of the pagoda is gilded, and its base is surrounded
by many elaborate shrines containing images of Buddha. Here the
faithful offer their devotions during the day and evening, and the
vendors of candles, incense and flowers do a thriving business.
Here, also assemble the lame, the halt and the blind, to gather
their penny tribute from the passersby.
[Illustration: THE SHWE DAGON PAGODA.]
Mandalay is still more liberally supplied with pagodas. At the
largest, the Aracan, one sees repeated the scenes of the Shwe Dagon,
only the beggars seem more numerous. At this pagoda there is a
filthy pool in which live a number of sacred turtles, and they must
have charmed lives to live at all in so foul a place. They rise to
the surface when food is thrown into the water, but they are so
slow in their movements that the kites which hover about the place
generally snatch up the morsels before the turtles reach them.
Far more beautiful than the Aracan Pagoda is the group known as
the Four Hundred and Fifty. This remarkable group, which actually
numbers 729, stands at the foot of Mandalay Hill and was built by
an uncle of King Thebaw. In the center of the group is the usual
pagoda, and around it in parallel, rectangular rows are small
square pagodas, each terminating in a graceful tower and containing
a slab inscribed on both sides. These slabs together contain all
the writings of Buddha, and the smaller pagodas viewed from the
center one, present an imposing spectacle. These pagodas are well
kept, and all the buildings are snowy white. I emphasize the fact
that these are in good repair, because so many of the Buddhist
pagodas and monasteries are in a state of decay. Whether this is
due to decrease in the zeal of the followers of Buddha or to the
fact that the Burmese king, Thebaw, has for more than twenty years
been a political prisoner on the west coast of India, I do not
know. A writer for one of the Rangoon newspapers naively describes
the annexation of Burma by the English as "necessary" and this
"necessity" has deprived the Buddhist buildings of the governmental
patronage which they formerly enjoyed.
About six miles above Mandalay, near the Irawaddy, stands the
foundation of a pagoda which its builder intended should be the
largest in the world. It was begun by King Bodopaya in 1790, after
an unsuccessful campaign against Siam. In his disappointment his
mind turned to religion, and he hoped to "acquire merit," as the
Buddhists say, by the erection of this temple. The structure begins
with four galleries; the first is five hundred feet square; and each
succeeding one is a little higher by fifty feet less in diameter.
Then the base of the pagoda proper, about two hundred and fifty
feet square, rises to a height of one hundred and sixty feet. The
entire building, as planned, would have reached to a height of five
hundred feet, but the labor expended had become so great that the
people complained and he was compelled to abandon the enterprise.
He was warned by the experience of a former king whose extravagance
gave rise to the proverb, "The pagoda is finished and the country is
ruined." King Bodopaya is not the only "captain of industry" who has
attempted to "acquire merit" by constructing monumental buildings
with the labor of others, but he was not so successful as some of
our trust magnates have been.
To match this great pagoda a bell was cast weighing ninety tons,
said to be the largest sound bell in the world. The great bell of
Moscow is larger, but is cracked. The Mingoon bell, as this one near
Mandalay is called, is eighteen feet in diameter at the base, nine
feet at the top and thirty-one feet in height to the top of the
shackle. It was formerly supported on immense teak wood beams, but
the foundation of one of these gave away and for years one side of
the bell rested on the ground. Lord Curzon, while viceroy of India,
caused the bell to be suspended from iron beams and put a roof over
it.
[Illustration: BURMESE FAMILY.]
The Buddhist priests seem to have made Mandalay their Mecca, for of
the fifty-seven thousand in Burma, more than seven thousand reside
there. The Buddhist priesthood is the greatest mendicant order in
the world, the members of it being pledged to live by begging.
Having occasion to ride out early one morning we saw a hundred or
more bareheaded, barefooted, their only garb a yellow robe, carrying
their rice bowls from door to door. They can not ask for food by
word of mouth; they simply hold out the bowl and if food is denied,
they move silently to another house. They are permitted to own no
property except a robe, a bowl, a leather mat, a razor, a needle,
a fan and a filter-cup. They must live under a tree unless someone
furnishes them a house and must live on roots and herbs unless
better food is given them. They have no parishes or congregations,
but are expected to spend their lives in meditation, free from all
worldly cares, except when engaged in expounding Buddhistic writing
or in teaching the young. They live, as a rule, in monasteries,
built for them by pious Buddhists, and from what we saw of these
buildings no one would accuse them of being surrounded by luxury.
These monasteries rest upon posts some distance above the ground,
and each room has an outside door about large enough for one to
enter upon his hands and knees.
I visited one of these monasteries at Rangoon in company with a
native Christian whose father was half Chinese. To my surprise the
first priest whom I met was an Englishman who turned Buddhist five
years ago and donned the yellow robe. While I waited for the native
priest to whom I had a letter, this Englishman gave me something
of his history and a brief defense of his new faith. He came from
London six years ago as a ship carpenter and a year after adopted
Buddhism, which, he explained to me, does not require one to believe
anything. While his parents were members of the Church of England,
he had never connected himself with any church, and, being an
agnostic, the doctrines of Buddha appealed to him. He described his
adopted religion as one of works rather than faith, and declared
that the slums of Christendom had no counterpart in Burma. The
visitor, however, sees everywhere poverty and squalor which can only
be paralleled in the most destitute portions of our great cities,
and nowhere the comfort and refinement which are general in the
United States.
Buddhism is reformed Hinduism and in its teachings presents a
higher system of ethics than the religion from which it sprung.
Gautama, called the Buddha or the Enlightened, was born between
five and six hundred years before Christ, and was of the Brahmin
caste. Not satisfied with the teachings of the Hindu philosopher
concerning life, he went into seclusion at the age of twenty-nine
and devoted himself to meditation. Six years later he announced
his doctrine, destined to impress so profoundly the thought of
the Orient. Accepting the Hindu theory that the soul passes from
person to person, and even from the human being to the animal and
back, he offered Nirvana as a final release from this tiresome and
endless change. Nirvana, a state of unconsciousness which follows
the absorption of the individual soul in the soul of the universe.
This was the end to be sought, and no wonder it came as a relief to
those whose philosophy taught the perpetual transition of the soul
through man and beast and bird and reptile. The means of reaching
Nirvana was through the renunciation of self. Life he conceived
to be prolonged misery, infinitely drawn out, and love of self he
declared to be the root of all evil. So long as one loves life, he
argued, he can not escape from the bondage of existence. In the
entire elimination of self by the relinquishment of a desire for a
separate existence here or hereafter--in this alone could he find a
path to Nirvana.
The next forty-five years of his life he spent in expounding and
elaborating his doctrines, in formulating rules and in perfecting
the details of his system. Many of his precepts are admirable. For
instance, he divides progress toward the blissful state into three
stages. In the first, he puts those who abstain from evil from fear
of punishment; these he commends, though he considers the motive
comparatively low. In the second stage are those who, passing from
negative harmlessness to helpfulness, do good from hope of reward;
these he praises as acting from a higher motive than the first. In
the third state the seeker after Nirvana does good, not for hope of
reward, but for the sake of love alone. The last gift love has to
give, is to give up love of life itself and pass from further change
to changeless changelessness.
At one time Buddhism spread over India and promised the conquest of
all Asia. Two hundred years after the Buddhist's death a great king,
Asoka, sent out eighty-four thousand missionaries and the doctrines
of Gautama were accepted as far east as China and Japan, and as far
south as Java. But the wave receded; India returned to Hinduism,
China to Confucianism and Japan to Shintoism, and Mohammedanism now
outnumbers Buddhism on the Ganges. The Buddhists still hold Burma,
Thibet and Ceylon, but even in these countries there is evidence
of decline. Kandy, the capital city of Ceylon, has the distinction
of guarding a "sacred tooth," thought by the ignorant to be one of
the eyeteeth of Buddha. It is kept in a gold and jeweled casket
enclosed in six larger ones and is an object of worship, but the
more intelligent Buddhists know that it is a fraud.
At Rangoon I found a Baptist school, conducted by Americans, with
nearly nine hundred pupils, and learned of the gratifying success
which has attended missionary work in Burma.
[Illustration: GATHERING PRECIOUS STONES IN BURMA]
And yet, there is a Buddhist propaganda in Europe and America! In
a review called Buddhism, published at Rangoon by the International
Buddhist Society, I read that Kaiser Wilhelm is "alarmed" at the
progress that this religion is making in Germany, and I also read
that our country offers a promising field for Buddhist missionaries.
[Illustration: BRONZE IMAGE OF BUDDHA, BUILT 1252]
As a religion of agnosticism, requiring belief in neither God nor
immortality, nor in the morality taught by Christ, it may appeal to
some who, like the Englishman whom I found in the monastery, have
already rejected Christianity, but it is not likely to appeal to
those who have had religious experience. Those who emphasize good
works, and fail to recognize the need of an inspiring faith behind
the works, may take refuge in the teachings of Buddha from the more
exacting requirements of the Nazarene, but no one is likely to be
led astray who compares the altruism, the philanthropy and the
benevolences of Christianity with the fruits of Buddhism. To live,
even in poverty, upon the labors of others with a view to gaining
thus an earlier entrance into blissful unconsciousness is not so
unselfish after all, as to spend one's self in the service of his
fellows and to convert life into an exhaustless fountain.