BURMAH.
On the pagoda spire,
The bells are swinging,
Their little golden circlet in a flutter,
With tales the wooing winds have dared to utter,
Till all are ringing,
As if a choir
Of golden-nested birds in heaven were singing;
And with a lulling sound,
The music floats around,
And drops like balm into the drowsy ear.
MRS. EMILY C. JUDSON.
The early religion of the Burmese was Shamanism; the belief in evil
spirits and the necessity of warding off their hurtful influence by
the use of charms and amulets. Buddhism has taken the place of this
degrading system among the Burmese. Besides the Burmese there are
other peoples in Burmah; the Karens, of whose religion we have already
spoken, the Shans, who are Buddhists, and the Mōns who adhere still
to the old practice of Shamanism. The old evil-spirit worship of the
Burmese and Shans still remains to some extent in the Nat worship. Just
when Buddhism was introduced into Burmah is a little uncertain. Dr.
Francis Mason, an American missionary, in his work on Burmah speaks
as follows, and as the whole extract is an excellent account of the
introduction of Buddhism and a summary of its doctrines, we present it
entire:
“Three hundred years before Alexandria was founded; about the time
that Thales, the most ancient philosopher of Europe, was teaching
in Greece that water is the origin of all things, the soul of the
world; and Zoroaster, in Media or Persia, was systematizing the
fire-worship of the Magi; and Confucius in China was calling on the
teeming multitudes around him to offer to guardian spirits and the
Manes of their ancestors; and Nebuchadnezzar set up his golden image
in the plain of Dura, and Daniel was laboring in Babylon to establish
the worship of the true God; a reverend sage, with his staff and
scrip, who had left a throne for philosophy, was traveling from Gaya
to Benares, and from Benares to Kanouj, exhorting the people against
theft, falsehood, adultery, killing and intemperance. No temperance
lecturer advocates teetotalism now more strongly than did this sage
Gautama twenty-three centuries ago. Nor did he confine his instructions
to external vices. Pride, anger, lust, envy and covetousness were
condemned by him in as strong terms as are ever heard from the
Christian pulpit. Love, mercy, patience, self-denial, alms-giving,
truth and the cultivation of wisdom he required of all. Good actions,
good words and good thoughts were the frequent subjects of his sermons,
and he was unceasing in his cautions to keep the mind free from the
turmoils of passion and the cares of life. Immediately after the death
of this venerable peripatetic, his disciples scattered themselves
abroad to propagate the doctrines of their master, and tradition says
one party entered the principal mouth of the Irrawaddy, where they
traced its banks to where the first rocks lift themselves abruptly
above the flats around. Here on the summit of this laterite ledge, 160
feet above the river, they erected the standard of Buddhism, which now
lifts its spire to the heavens higher than the dome of St. Paul’s.”
But there is an entire absence of any historical confirmation of these
traditions, and we have no definite information of the coming of
Buddhism to Burmah until Buddhaghosha brought it about 450 A.D.
Burmese Buddhism bears a very close resemblance to that of Ceylon. As
we have already discussed the principles of Buddhism in general, we
shall pass to notice more particularly the temples, idols, festivals
and worship of Burmah. A good idea of Burmese Buddhism can be obtained
from a visit to its Grand Shway-da-Gong Pagoda.
THE SHWAY-DA-GONG PAGODA.
The Mecca of Southern Buddhism is the great pagoda, at Rangoon. This
the largest building of the kind in Burmah, and, perhaps, also in the
world. It is situated about a mile from the city, on a rocky ledge,
perhaps 100 feet high, overlooking the valley of the Irrawaddy and the
city of Rangoon. The entrance is guarded by two huge griffins of brick
and mortar. Passing on between rows of long, narrow sheds, beautifully
carved and gaudily painted, and after climbing a staircase, one stands
upon an immense stone terrace, upon which the pagoda itself stands.
The terrace is nearly 1,000 feet square. The pagoda tapers upwards to
a height of 300 feet, and terminates in a h’tee. The pagoda is round
in shape, and solid throughout. It is built of bricks, and, unlike
the Pyramids of Egypt, there is no chamber in its interior, nothing
but the casket containing the staff of Kanthathon, the water-dipper
of Gaunagon, a garment of Kathapa and the eight hairs of Gautama. The
whole of the exterior is covered with gold-leaf, presenting a dazzling
appearance, as it reflects the rays of the sun. The h’tee on the
top--the umbrella-shaped finial--is made of a series of gilded iron
rings, from which hang a great many little silver and brass bells,
which are swung and rung by the wind. Not long ago, the father of the
present King of Burmah placed a new h’tee upon the pagoda. It cost him
about $300,000. The frame was made of seven gilded iron rings, the
largest of which was twelve feet in diameter, and the rest smaller and
smaller. Each ring was studded with gems. At the very top was a large
emerald. This h’tee was brought to a landing-place about two miles from
the pagodas. The road over which it was to come was covered with white
cloth by a devout merchant. The pagoda was covered with a frame-work
of bamboo, which made it easy to ascend to its top. Weeks of religious
festivities were held, during which the worshipers poured their gold,
and silver, and precious stones into the pagoda’s treasury. On the day
appointed, the old h’tee was removed, and the new one hoisted ring by
ring to its place.
[Illustration: SHWAY-DA-GONG, THE GREAT PAGODA OF RANGOON,
BURMAH. IT CONTAINS RELICS OF BUDDHA. THE EXTERIOR IS COVERED
WITH GILT. THE ENTRANCES ARE GUARDED BY GRIFFINS.]
Within the pagoda inclosure there are many temples, most containing
huge images of Gautama, made of wood, brick and lime, or marble and
metal. On small tables, in front of many of the images, are placed
candles, flowers and little paper flags. Around the pagoda tall poles
are placed at short intervals, each crowned with a h’tee.
Near the pagoda is a great bell, under which a man may stand upright.
The worshipers strike upon this bell, to attract the attention of the
recording angels, so that they may not omit to credit them with the
worship about to be performed in honor of the gods.
THE STORY OF SHWAY-DA-GONG.
Two brothers, said in the native books to have been Mōns or Talaings,
having made an offering to Gautama, begged in return some relic of
himself, on which he stroked his head, and gave them eight hairs that
came out. These he desired them to deposit in a pagoda in a spot where
had already been buried certain relics of his three great predecessors.
They accordingly started with them for “Suvarna-bhumi,” the Sanskrit
name of Pegu, but on the way lost six of the hairs. However, they
were recovered in a miraculous manner, and the holy site pointed
out to them by the Nats. Here, on digging, the relics of the former
Buddhas--viz., a water-scoop of Gaunagon, a robe of Kathapa, and a
staff of Kanthathon,--were found, and these, together with the eight
hairs of Gautama, were deposited in a hole on the top of the hill
on which “Shway-da-Gong” now stands, and a solid pagoda of stones,
sixty-six feet high was erected. This pagoda is thus specially sacred
to all Buddhists, as the only one known to them as now existing, which
is supposed to contain the relics not only of Gautama, but also of all
the Buddhas of this present world. At the time of its erection, and
for centuries afterwards, no town existed on the site of Rangoon, and
the pagoda stood, like many others at the present day, in the midst
of the wild forest. The history of the pagoda, which is rather a long
one, contains detailed particulars of the various improvements, repairs
and enlargements made to it by various kings. The edifice has been
cased several times (as was also the custom with the Ceylon dagabas)
with a fresh outer surrounding of bricks several feet thick, thus each
time increasing its height and size. Thus, in A.D. 1447, the King of
Pegu encased it afresh, and made its height 301½ feet. In 1462, the
King of Pegu cast, it is said, a colossal bell, 168 feet high, 12 feet
in diameter and 36 feet in circumference; also several other smaller
bells, and paved the platform or terrace of the pagoda with 50,000 flat
stones. This wonderful bell, it is perhaps unnecessary to say, is not
in existence at the present time.
OTHER PAGODAS.
Besides the Shway-da-Gong Pagoda, there is a host of lesser ones. The
erection of pagodas is generally a work of merit. It must be borne in
mind that these are never temples, but simply relic-houses. There are
temples and monasteries grouped around them. At one place is the
“Seven Pagodas,” built on the spot where Gautama--when, in the course
of his transmigrations, his soul inhabited the body of a rooster--is
said to have scratched for his breakfast. Again, there are others built
where Gautama has left the imprint of his footsteps.
[Illustration: SACRED GARDENS ATTACHED TO A BUDDHIST TEMPLE.]
[Illustration: PAGODA AT MAULMAIN, BURMAH. LITTLE BELLS
SUSPENDED FROM ITS SUMMIT SWING IN THE WIND.]
There are a great many traditions told in regard to the building of
these pagodas. One legend runs thus: A certain hermit, having received
one of the hairs of the Lord, wandered about searching for a suitable
spot where to enshrine it. In the meanwhile he reverently carried the
sacred relic on his head. After some time he arrived on the summit
of this mountain, and deposited the holy hair in the cleft of the
rock, and erected the pagoda on the great boulder. From this legend
is derived the name “Kyeik-ethel-yŭh,” meaning “the object of
worship borne on the head of the hermit.” This boulder is more than
half hanging over the perpendicular face of a cliff. How it holds its
position it is indeed difficult to say, as it lies beyond the line of
the centre of gravity. The boulder is thirty feet high, and the pagoda
fifteen feet. Another legend is as follows:
Two merchants joined together and built a small pagoda, two feet high.
The next morning, when they went to pay their homage at this shrine,
they found the pagoda had increased to double their work; so, taking
this as a sign that the Nats approved of their offering, they continued
to enlarge this pile of brick; they working by day and the unseen power
by night. It now measures more than three hundred feet high. They have
also a stone, which they call an impression of Gautama’s foot. Some
of these stones are six feet long, and covered with strange figures
supposed to express their religious ideas.
WORSHIP OF NATS.
The adoration and dread of Nats enters into all the life and legends
of the Burmese. These Nats are spirits, both good and evil. Offerings
are presented and ceremonies performed to obtain favors and advantages
from the good, and to propitiate the evil Nats. The worship of Nats is
intimately related to the old worship of spirits before Buddhism came
to Burmah. The Nats are supposed to live in the six lower heavens,
beyond the moon. They are able to transport themselves with the utmost
rapidity to and about our world. They are believed to interfere in
the affairs of man, even more than the gods. They correspond to the
genii of the Arabian Nights’ Entertainment, to the fairies and elfins
of Britain in olden times, with perhaps the added ideas of angels and
devils. The story of King Tektha, which follows, will probably give a
more correct impression of the Burmese notions of the Nats than any
description could impart. This is but a single specimen of a great many
such stories which are still current among the Burmese:
A NAT STORY.
Once upon a time, there lived, in Burmah, a king named Tektha.
The kings that were before him had been devout worshipers of Gautama,
and had listened to what their teachers and priests taught them. But
Tektha did not believe in Gautama, but listened to strange teachers,
who taught him that everything was God. He would not hear the Buddhist
books, nor worship the relics nor the images. More than this, instead
of behaving reverently to the priests, he destroyed their temples, and
threw the idols into the water. He forbade his subjects also to worship
Gautama, and threatened that if they did they should be severely
punished.
The people were in dismay. It was of no use for the priests to carry
round their rice-pots; no one dared offer them food; the temples and
pagodas were falling into ruins, and the images of Gautama were lying
in the water, spoilt and decaying.
What would be the consequence of this terrible treatment of their god?
The people were afraid of the punishment with which the king threatened
them if they worshiped Gautama; they feared the evils which the great
spirits, the Nats, might bring upon them if they did not.
But a few of the people would not give up the worship to which they
had been so long accustomed; and among those who still in secret held
to the old faith was a girl, twelve years of age, and her mother. I do
not know the girl’s name; but, said she, “The king has thrown the idols
into the water because he is afraid of them.” This was considered a
very bold speech.
Affairs continued in this state for four years. When the girl was
sixteen, she happened one day to be bathing in a tank with a number of
her companions, and, while amusing herself in the water, she saw an
idol lying near. She ordered her attendants to lift it out and carry
it to a zayat, or rest-house, that was at hand. They reminded her that
she would certainly be put to death for meddling with it; but she was
very determined, and declared that she would worship that image as long
as she lived. It was accordingly lifted out of the water, washed and
carried into the zayat.
A report of what had been done was immediately taken to the king, and
you can imagine how enraged he was. He ordered his servants to take a
fierce elephant, and make the savage animal trample this bold young
woman to death, thus making a terrible example of her case.
But it was not so easy to do this. The seven principal Nats, who had
been greatly displeased by the king’s wickedness, came to the defense
of the girl. These seven were, the Nat of the universe, the Nat of the
earth, the Nat of the trees, the Nat of the air, the Nat of the cities,
the Nat of the villages and the Nat of the white umbrella.
The elephant was brought, but he did not touch the girl; he was beaten
and goaded, but it was of no avail; he would not lift up a foot against
her, and instead of being angry only grew frightened, and tried to run
away from her without harming her in the least.
When the king heard that she could not be put to death this way, he
ordered a quantity of dry straw to be collected, the girl placed in the
midst of it, and so be burnt to death. The straw was brought, she was
put in the middle, but no number of torches, no quantity of fire would
make it burn. The Nats were there, and they would not allow her to be
put to death.
Then the king sent for her to his palace. He was surprised as well as
angry now, and was wondering whether he might not possibly have been
wrong in forsaking the gods of his forefathers. “If the image which you
have dared to take from the water,” said he, “will come through the air
into my presence, and I see it, your life shall be spared; but if not,
you shall be cut into seven pieces.”
The young woman asked permission to return for a short time to the
zayat. Her request was granted, and there she went and prayed very
earnestly that the image might be carried into the king’s presence.
And, lo! not only one, but eight images, and the young woman herself
with her attendants, were immediately taken up by the Nats, conveyed
through the air, and put down before the king and his principal queen,
his commander-in-chief, his officers, and a multitude of people. How
they all shouted and wondered!
“Now,” said the girl, turning to the king, “now that the image of my
god and teacher has flown to you, will you order the teachers from whom
you have learned this false religion to mount up also and fly through
the air?”
The king ordered them to do so, but, of course, it was in vain; they
could not fly. He was now convinced that the religion of Gautama
was the true religion; he compelled the false teachers to leave the
country; the temples, and images, and pagodas were restored; this
wonderful young woman he married, and made one of his principal
queens; and King Tektha was for the remainder of his life a devoted
Buddhist.
The fishermen make a small shed, termed a Nátsin, near their fishery,
in which every morning offerings of fruit, leaves, rice, or some such
tribute is placed; if this were not done, they say the Nat would
destroy the fish. A man going a journey through a forest, comes to
a large and conspicuous tree; he halts, plucks a few leaves near or
perhaps takes a little boiled rice out of his bag, and places them
as an offering to the Nat of the tree. In a boat-race a preliminary
row over the course is always taken, a man in the prow holding in
his extended arms a tray or basin containing a cocoanut, bunch of
plantains, betel leaves, etc., as an oblation to the Nats of the stream
to insure their causing no accident to the boat in the race.
SUPERSTITIONS OF THE BURMESE.
The people have great faith in omens. To meet a funeral, or a person
crying, when starting on a journey, is unlucky, and the journey should
be postponed.
A snake crossing the road shows that the journey will be long.
To meet with mushrooms foretells a prosperous journey.
Any unusual wild animal or bird entering a house is a sign of great
honor for the owner.
The earth-heaps thrown up by the white ants, if under a house, will
bring wealth to the occupier.
The itching of the palms of the hand is a sign that some money will
soon come into them.
In almost every bazaar, and at all large gatherings of people, will be
found one or two old men sitting with a slate or a Burman writing-board
before them, inviting the passers-by to have their horoscope cast,
and the best educated and most enlightened native officials will, in
any difficulty or trouble, send for one of these diviners to consult
the fates. One or two lucky hits will, of course, raise any special
prophet’s reputation throughout the country, and give him abundant
business.
THE FUNERAL OF A PONGYEE, OR MONK.
As soon as a pongyee has expired, the body is reverently washed by the
elders, who were his supporters. The body is then opened, the viscera
extracted, and buried anywhere without ceremony. The cavity of the
abdomen is filled with hot ashes and various preservative substances.
Long swathes of white cotton-cloth are wrapped as tightly as possible
round the corpse from head to foot, over which are placed the yellow
robes of the order. Another coarser wrapping of cotton-cloth is tightly
wound over this, and then thickly covered with black varnish, on which
gold leaf is applied, so that the whole is gilt. A coffin is prepared
from a single log, hollowed out, which many old pongyees keep in their
monasteries ready for their demise. The body, having been placed in
this, is left for some weeks to dry up, for most of such venerable
and aged recluses are little more than a frame-work of bones, covered
with a withered skin. The cover is at length nailed on; the coffin is
thickly covered with a resinous varnish and gilt. It is temporarily
laid in state in the monastery, on a high dais, ornamented with tinsel,
gilding and paper lace, surmounted by a white umbrella, or canopy of
muslin, and is constantly visited by pilgrims from the surrounding
country, who make their obeisance and present offerings of flowers,
etc., to it.
As soon as sufficient funds have been collected, a building, called
Nibban Kyeng (that is, Monastery of the Dead), is erected for the
reception of the body. With obscure and inferior monks this is only
made of bamboos and thatch; but with a distinguished and venerated
monk it is a substantial structure, with large, handsome pillars of
iron-wood or teak, roofed with shingles. This is open all around, or is
only surrounded by a railing to keep out animals. In the centre, within
a high sarcophagus, richly but rudely adorned with gilding, glass,
mosaic work and painting, is enshrined the coffin, to await, perhaps,
for four years the final funeral rites.
At length, the time of waiting has passed; the preparations are
complete; a fortunate day has been fixed upon, and for weeks previous,
the town where the ceremony is to take place, and all the surrounding
country, has been astir with the arrangements for and expectation of
the great event.
The coffin is placed on a gigantic car, solidly constructed, and with
four heavy solid wooden wheels, surmounted with a canopy similar in
form and construction to that crowning the funeral pyre. This lofty
turret is drawn along by hundreds of men, and placed in the centre of
the plain. The next day, the _fun_ begins. Two great ropes of
twisted canes, or coirs, are fastened to the funeral car in front and
behind, long enough for a hundred people to hold on to each and to pull
each way. The people group themselves about either rope as they belong
to one or other of two neighboring villages. Then comes a tug, each
trying to pull the car away from the other.
[Illustration: FUNERAL PROCESSION OF A BUDDHIST PRIEST.]
On the night before the last day of the festival, the coffin is removed
from the car and placed on the funeral pyre, on an iron grating, under
which is a quantity of wood, made more combustible by the use of oil,
resin and the like, mixed with fragrant woods. Early on the day
appointed for the burning of the pongyee’s body, parties come from the
different villages, bringing rude rockets of every size. Some are a
foot long and an inch in calibre; others are monsters, nine and twelve
feet in length, and have a bore of six to nine inches diameter. All are
crammed to the muzzles with gunpowder, the tubes being hollowed logs of
wood strongly bound with cane. The larger ones are placed on rude cars
with four wheels, while the smallest are hung on long guiding lines of
cane, or rope, fastened at one end to a strong post, and at the other
to some point of the funeral pyre. The object is to strike the pyre
with the rocket, and fire the combustibles placed inside. Happy will be
the village which owns the fortunate rocket, and great their prosperity
during the ensuing year.
All being ready, men of each village are allowed to go up in rotation
and discharge their weapon. The smoke, the flame, the roar is
tremendous, to the intense delight of the shouting crowd.
One at length strikes as it seems with full power: a pause, a little
smoke, then a little flame issues from one corner of the pyre, and
a shout from thousands of throats proclaims the auspicious event.
The crowd rushes forward, fire is carefully applied to the mass of
combustibles under and around the coffin, and soon the whole is in a
blaze. The people watch round, giving a cheer as each small pinnacle
falls in, and wait, anxiously looking for the lofty canopy itself to
topple over into the flames. This event is greeted with a tremendous
shout, and then all disperse homewards, happy and merry. A few elders
remain to watch the burning pyre till all is consumed, and the next
day the monks of the monastery collect the fragments of half-burnt
bones and the ashes of the deceased, and reverently inter them in some
fitting place, and, perhaps, a small pagoda is erected over them as a
monument. Such is Buddhism in Burmah.
American missionaries have won many of the Burmese, as of the Karens
also, from these ceremonies to the Christian faith.