DESCRIPTION OF BURMAH.--ITS BOUNDARIES, RIVERS, CLIMATE, SOIL, FRUITS
AND FLOWERS.--BURMAN PEOPLE.--THEIR DRESS, HOUSES, FOOD, GOVERNMENT AND
RELIGION.
The Burman Empire being thus the place to which the feet of the first
"bringers of good tidings" from America were so signally directed, and
having been now, for nearly forty years, missionary ground of the most
interesting character, it is proper to pause here and give something
more than a passing glance at its natural features, its government and
religion, and the character of its population. For information on these
points we are indebted chiefly to the researches of the Rev. Howard
Malcom.
Burmah, or the Burman Empire, lies between the Salwen river on the east,
and the Burrampooter on the northwest and north, while its western and
southern shores are washed by the great bay of Bengal, which separates
it from the peninsula of Hindustan. Besides the noble rivers which form
its eastern and north-western boundaries, its entire length from north
to south is traversed by the Irrawaddy, which after a course of 1200
miles, empties by many mouths into the Bay of Bengal. Its territory is
generally so much elevated above the level of the sea, that it enjoys,
though in the torrid zone, a comparatively salubrious and temperate
climate. The heat is rarely excessive; while winter in our sense of the
word, is unknown.
"The general features of a country so extensive are, of course, widely
diversified. It may be said of it as a whole, in the language of Dr.
Hamilton, that in fertility, beauty and grandeur of scenery, and in the
variety, value, and elegance of its natural productions, it is equalled
by few on earth."
In the parts of the country lying near the sea there are two seasons,
the wet and the dry. About the 10th of May showers commence, and
increase in frequency, until, in the latter part of June, it begins to
rain almost daily, and this continues until the middle of September.
Heavy rains then cease, but showers continue, diminishing in frequency
until the middle of October, when "the air is cool, the country verdant,
fruits innumerable, and everything in nature gives delight." Even in the
rainy season, the sun shines out a part of the day, so that the rankest
vegetation covers everything; even walls and buildings, unless smoothly
coated with plaster, are not exempt from grass and weeds. Of the climate
during the warmest portion of the year, Dr. Malcom thus writes: "I have
now passed the ordeal of the entire hot season, and of nothing am I
more convinced, both from experience and observation, than that the
climate is as salubrious and pleasant as any other in the world. I have
suffered much more from heat in Italy, and even in Philadelphia, than I
have ever done here; and have never found a moment when I could not be
perfectly comfortable by sitting still. To go abroad at mid-day, is,
however, for any but natives, eminently hazardous."
The soil, in the maritime provinces, is represented as unsurpassed in
fertility, and under the imperfect cultivation of the natives, yields
from eighty to a hundred fold, and sometimes more.
The heights are crowned with forests, while the low lands are jungle,
that is, "a region of many trees, but scattered; with much undergrowth;"
and the haunt of tigers and other wild animals.
The fruit-trees are numerous, and of names and kinds unknown in America.
There is found the mangosteen, with a fruit said by travellers to be the
most delicious in the world; the noble mango, growing to the height of
one hundred feet, and of vast diameter, and bearing as great a variety
of delicious fruit as the apple-tree does with us; the cocoa-nut, whose
fruit we are acquainted with, and whose husk is formed into excellent
cordage; the plantain, that invaluable blessing to the natives of the
torrid zone, as it supplies them bread without much labor; a
circumstance of importance in countries where hard labor is oppressive
by reason of heat; the splendid tamarind, with wide-spreading limbs, and
a dense foliage of vivid green, among which appear clusters of beautiful
yellow flowers, delicately veined with red, and the long shining pods
which contain the fruit; the custard-apple, with its pulpy fruit
contained in a husk resembling the pineapple in shape; and the curious
palmyra, whose leaves furnish the natives with paper, while its trunk
yields a liquor much prized by them as drink, and capable of being
boiled down into sugar, like the juice of our maple.
Hundreds of other trees might be named, many valuable for their fruit,
others for their timber, and some for both. Most of the trees are
evergreen, that is, few of them shed their leaves annually and at once;
but a constant succession of leaves makes the forest always verdant.
Besides the fruits which grow upon trees, there is a variety of others
such as berries, tomatoes, pineapples, &c.; and among roots are found
the ginger, licorice, arrow-root, sweet-potatoe, Irish potatoe,
asparagus, ground-nut, &c. The country abounds in flowers of most
splendid colors, but generally deficient in fragrance; though some have
a fine perfume.
The favorite food of the country being rice, this is, of course, the
grain most extensively cultivated. There are no _farms_ as with us;
cultivators of the soil always reside in villages, for mutual protection
against wild beasts and robbers. Each family cultivates a patch of the
neighboring jungle, and brings the produce into the village, where the
cattle are also brought for security. Besides rice, they cultivate
wheat, Indian-corn, sugar-cane, millet and indigo; but generally in a
slovenly and unskilful manner. In the dry season, the land is watered by
artificial means, some of which are quite ingenious.
Of animals there is, of course, a vast variety, one of the most useful
of which is the buffalo, which is used to draw their carriages, as well
as to perform the labor that the ox does with us. Elephants are the
property of the king, but great men are allowed to keep them.
The birds in Burmah, though of gay plumage, have little melody in their
song; splendid as they are, we would scarce exchange for them our
cheerful robin and merry bobolink.
Reptiles and insects, though numerous, are not so troublesome or so
venomous as in many parts of the torrid zone. The white ant is perhaps
as destructive as any other insect, and the greatest precaution hardly
preserves one from its intrusion.
The Burmans are, as a race, superior to the Hindoos, being more
athletic and vigorous, and more lively and industrious. They are less
tall than Americans, their complexions dark, their noses flat, and their
lips thick and full. The hair is very abundant, black and glossy, but
generally rather coarse. "Men tie it in a knot on the _top_ of the head,
and intertwine it with the turban. Women turn it all back, and without a
comb, form it into a graceful knot _behind_, frequently adding chaplets
of fragrant natural flowers strung on a thread. Both sexes take great
pains with their hair, frequently washing it with a substance which has
the properties of soap, and keeping it anointed with sweet oil."
The custom of blacking the teeth is almost universal. When asked the
reason of this custom, the answer is, "What! should we have white teeth
like a dog or a monkey?"
Smoking and chewing are also universal. Malcom says, "I have seen little
creatures of two or three years, stark naked, tottering about with a
lighted cigar in their mouth." Tobacco is not used alone for these
purposes, but mixed with several other substances.
The dress of the men is a cotton cloth about four and a half yards long,
covering, when the man is not at work, nearly the whole body in a
graceful manner. A jacket, with sleeves generally of white muslin but
often of broadcloth or velvet, is sometimes added, especially among the
higher classes. On the feet, when dressed, are worn sandals of wood or
cowhide, covered with cloth, and held on by straps, one of which passes
over the instep, the other over the great toe. On entering a house,
these are always left at the door.
Women wear a _temine_, or petticoat, of cotton or silk, lined with
muslin, extending from the arm-pits to the ankles. Over this is
sometimes worn a jacket, open in front with close, long sleeves. Both
sexes wear ornaments in the ears. Men wear mustachios, but pluck out the
beard with tweezers. Women, in order to render their complexions more
fair, rub over the face a delicate yellow powder; and they occasionally
stain the nails of the fingers and toes with a scarlet pigment. All
ranks are exceedingly fond of flowers, and display great taste in
arranging them.
The houses are made of timbers, or bamboos, set in the earth, with
lighter pieces fastened transversely. The sides are covered, some with
mats, more or less substantial and costly, others with thatch, fastened
with split ratans. The roof is very ingeniously made and fastened on,
and is a perfect security against wind and rain. The floor is of split
cane, elevated a few feet from the earth, which secures ventilation and
cleanliness. The windows and doors are of mat, strengthened with a frame
of bamboo, and strongly fastened at the top. When open they are propped
up with a bamboo, and form a shade. Of course, there are no chimneys.
Cooking is done on a shallow box a yard square, filled with earth.
We must not judge of the architectural skill of the people by their
private houses. A Burman conceals his wealth with as much care as we
exhibit ours, for a display of it only subjects him to extortion from
the officers of government. Malcom describes some of their zayats,
pagodas and bridges, especially in and near Ava, as truly noble.
Rice may be said to be the universal food. It is generally eaten with a
nice curry, and sauces of various vegetables are added. Wheat is not
made into bread by the natives, but boiled like rice. Its name in Burmah
is "foreigner's rice," which shows it is not native to the country.
* * * * *
The natural good traits of the Burman character are almost rendered
nugatory by their religion, and the oppressive nature of their
government. The latter is an absolute despotism. The king has a nominal
council with whom he may advise, but whose advice he may, if he chooses,
treat with utter contempt. It is not, however, the direct oppression of
the monarch that causes most suffering among his subjects. It is rather
that of the inferior officers of government whose rapacity and
extortion renders property, liberty, and life itself insecure. Deceit,
fraud and lying are the natural, if not necessary consequences of a
system which leaves the people entirely at the mercy of those who bear
rule over them.
The religion is Buddhism, one of the most ancient and wide-spread
superstitions existing on the face of the earth. Its sacred Divinity, or
Buddh, is Gaudama, who has passed into a state of eternal and
unconscious repose, which they consider the summit of felicity; but
which seems to us to differ little from annihilation. Images of this god
are the chief objects of worship. These are found in every house, and
are enshrined in pagodas and temples, and in sacred caves which appear
to have been used from time immemorial for religious purposes. The
wealth and labor bestowed on the latter show how great the population
must have been in former ages. Dr. Malcom describes one cave on the
Salwen, which is wholly filled with images of every size, while the
whole face of the mountain for ninety feet above the cave is incrusted
with them. "On every jutting crag stands some marble image covered with
gold, and spreading its uncouth proportions to the setting sun. Every
recess is converted into shrines for others. But imposing as is this
spectacle, it shrinks into insignificance compared with the scene
presented on entering the cavern itself. It is of vast size, and needs
no human art to render it sublime. The eye is confused and the heart
appalled at the prodigious exhibition of infatuation and folly.
Everywhere--on the floor, over head and on every jutting point, are
crowded together images of Gaudama--the offerings of successive ages. A
ship of five hundred tons could not carry away the half of them."
Pagodas are innumerable. In the inhabited parts there is scarcely a
peak, bank, or swelling hill, uncrowned by one of these structures. In
general, they are almost solid, without door or window, and contain some
supposed relic of Gaudama.
The religious system of the Burmans contains many excellent moral
precepts and maxims, which, however being without sanction or example,
are utterly powerless to mould the character of the people to wisdom or
virtue.
A curious feature of Buddhism is, that one of the highest motives it
presents to its followers is the "obtaining of merit." Merit is obtained
by avoiding sins, such as theft, lying, intoxication, and the like; and
by practising virtues and doing good works. The most meritorious of all
good works is to make an idol; the next to build a pagoda. It confers
high merit, also, to build a zayat, to transcribe the sacred books, to
erect any useful public edifice, to dig public wells, or to plant shade
or fruit-trees by the wayside. If they give alms, or treat animals
kindly, or repeat prayers, or do any other good deed, they do it
entirely with this mercenary view of obtaining merit. This "merit" is
not so much to procure them happiness in another world, as to secure
them from suffering in their future transmigrations in this; for they
believe that the soul of one who dies without having laid up any merit,
will have to pass into the body of some mean reptile or insect, and from
that to another, through hundreds of changes, perhaps, before it will be
allowed again to take the form of man.
This reliance on 'merit,' and certainty of obtaining it through
prescribed methods, fosters their conceit, so that ignorant and debased
as they are, "there is scarcely a nation more offensively proud." It
also renders them entirely incapable of doing or appreciating a
disinterested action, or of feeling such a sentiment as gratitude. If
you do them a favor, they suppose you do it to obtain merit for
yourself, and of course feel no obligation to you; the simple phrase, "I
thank you," is unknown in their language.
Like the ancient Romans, the Burmans believe in dreams, omens, and
unlucky days; observe the flight and feeding of fowls, the howl of dogs,
and the aspect of the stars; they regard the lines in the hand, the
knots in trees, and a thousand other fortuitous circumstances, and by
these allow their actions to be governed.
The priesthood in Burmah is arranged into a regular hierarchy. The
highest functionary is a kind of archbishop, who presides over all the
other priests in the empire, and appoints the presidents of the
monasteries. He resides at the imperial court, where he has a high rank,
and is considered one of the greatest men in the kingdom. Below him are
various ranks of priests, each having his appointed sphere and
appropriate duties, and all supported by the so-called _voluntary_
contributions of the people. The number of priests is exceedingly great,
and their sway over the minds of the people almost unlimited.
"But great and potent as the priests of Buddh are," says a writer in the
Foreign Quarterly Review, "there is a kind of sacred personage still
greater than the highest of them, and next in rank to the sovereign;
this is no other than that diseased animal, the White Elephant, far more
highly venerated here than in Siam. The creature is supposed by the
Burmans to lodge within its carcass a blessed soul of some human being,
which has arrived at the last stage of the many millions of
transmigrations it was doomed to undergo, and which, when it escapes,
will be absorbed into the essence of the Deity." This most sacred
personage has a regular cabinet composed of a prime minister, secretary
of state, transmitter of intelligence, &c., possesses estates in various
parts of the country, and receives handsome presents from foreign
ambassadors. His residence is contiguous to the royal palace, and
connected with it by a long open gallery, at the further end of which a
curtain of black velvet embossed with gold, conceals his august person
from vulgar eyes. His dwelling is a lofty hall splendidly gilded, and
supported by sixty-four pillars, to four of which he is chained with
massive silver chains. His bed is a thick mattress, covered with blue
cloth, over which is a softer one of crimson silk. His trappings are
magnificent, being gold, studded with diamonds, sapphires, rubies, and
other precious stones; his betel-box, _spittoon_, and the vessel out of
which he feeds, are of gold inlaid with precious stones. His attendants,
according to Hamilton, from whom we take a part of this description,
amount to over a thousand persons.
"Buddhism in its moral precepts is perhaps the best religion ever
invented by man. The difficulty is, its entire basis is false. It is a
religion of Atheism. Instead of a Heavenly Father forgiving sin, and
filial service from a pure heart, as the effect of love--it presents
nothing to love, for its Deity is dead; nothing as the ultimate object
of action but self; and nothing for man's highest and holiest ambition
but annihilation."
"Their doctrine of merit, leaves no place for holiness, and destroys
gratitude either to God or man." It also ministers to the grossest
pride, for the very fact of his being _now a man_, assures the Buddhist
that in numberless former unremembered transmigrations, he must have
acquired incalculable merit, or he would not now occupy so distinguished
a rank in the scale of being.
Their system of balancing evil with good, reduces all sin to a thing of
little importance. "If any man sin" in Burmah, his religion tells him of
no "advocate with the Father" on whose altar he may lay the tribute of a
believing, penitent, obedient and grateful heart; but instead, it tells
him he may repeat a form of words, he may feed a priest, he may build a
pagoda, he may carve an idol, and thus balance his iniquity with merit.
If any man suffer in Burmah, his religion points him to no place where
"the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest," and where
"God himself will wipe away all tears from all faces;" but it dictates a
proud submission to unalterable fate, and flatters him that his
sufferings here may purchase immunity from torment in some unknown
future existence; and finally if any man die, in Burmah, his religion
tells him of no Saviour who has "passed through the grave and blessed
the bed," and "swallowed up death in victory;" but it threatens
degradation, perhaps into a soulless brute; or at best, a place of
expiatory misery;--in short, "living or dying," the Burman may be said
emphatically to be "without hope, and without God in the world."
Such was the stupendous system of superstition and ignorance, which two
feeble missionaries armed like David when he met the Philistine with
"trust in the Lord his God," ventured to attack, and hoped to subdue.