_Kalathoka is succeeded by his eldest son, Baddasena—And
finally by the youngest, Pitzamuka—This prince is killed and
succeeded by a chief of robbers, named Ouggasena-nanda—King
Tsanda-gutta—King Bandasura—Miraculous dreams of Athoka’s
mother—King Athoka—His conversion—His zeal for Buddhism—Finding
of the relics—Distribution of them—Third council held under the
presidency of Mauggalipata—Preaching of religion in various
countries, and particularly in Thaton—Voyage of Buddhagosa to
Ceylon—Establishment of religion in Pagan—Various particulars
relating to the importation of the scriptures in Burmah._
At the conclusion of the synod, Samputa-kami and several of the most
distinguished members of the Buddhistic assembly, astonished at the
progress of schism and dissension which the united voices of seven
hundred religious had not been able entirely to root up, endeavoured
to divine, as far as human wisdom could reach, what would be in after
times the fate of religion. They foresaw that one hundred and twenty
years hence, there would be at Pataliputra a mighty ruler full of love
for religion, and zealous for its propagation, who would do much to
promote its exaltation. But before the reign of that pious monarch they
saw distinctly that there would appear many heretics, fond of their own
will, coining doctrines of their own invention, and that they would
thereby inflict the most serious harm on religion. They had, however,
the consolation to know that this was to come to pass after their death.
But who was the fortunate being who was destined to check effectually
the coming evil? They saw him in one of the seats of Brahmas. His name
was Teissa. In due time he would come down to the seat of man, operate
his incarnation in the womb of a pounha female, named Maugali, and would
afterwards become a famous religious under the name Mauggalipatta. This
vision filled their souls with the purest joy, which was increased by
the view of the expansion and development which religion would receive
through the zeal of that great personage.
After a reign of twenty-eight years, King Kalathoka died, leaving nine
sons, the eldest of whom was named Baddasena. They all reigned one after
the other through a period of thirty-three years. The last of them,
Pitzamuka, was the youngest. During his reign a gang of robbers desolated
the country of Magatha. On a certain day a man named Ouggasena, having
fallen in with that gang, inquired of them what pursuit they followed in
order to obtain their livelihood. They plainly told him that they knew
nothing about the tillage of the fields, and were unacquainted with the
business of trade; they had no other way left for maintaining themselves
but to seize by force whatever they chanced to meet. Ouggasena, taken up
with the boldness of these desperadoes, offered to join their company
with his eight brothers. The offer was gladly accepted. It happened
afterwards that in one of their depredatory expeditions their chief was
slain. Ouggasena was appointed by common consent to take his place.
Being of a bold and lofty daring, he said to his associates: “Friends,
it does not suit brave and enterprising men as you are to confine your
attacks to petty villages and small towns: you ought to aim higher.”
He then represented to them in forcible language that King Pitzamuka
was deficient in courage, and neglected entirely the duties of a king.
“The moment is favourable,” added he, “to attack Pataliputra itself.”
His opinion was universally accepted. The king, fonder of pleasure than
of business, offered little resistance. He was killed at the taking
of his capital, and Ouggasena sat on the throne, under the name of
Ouggasena-nanda.
He was succeeded by his eight brothers. They reigned successively during
the short period of twenty-two years. The last of them was called
Dzananda. These princes were not followers of Buddha, but they supported
the party of the pounhas, to which they adhered. Their generosity towards
the pounhas was very great. They fed daily a great number of them in
their own palace.
Among the pounhas who were maintained by the king’s liberality,
there was one named Dzanecka, who was much versed in the science of
astrology. Being once in the country, he saw in himself certain signs
indicating that one day he would become a king. Having communicated
this intelligence to his mother, she wisely advised him to ignore such
dangerous signs, which would inevitably bring the king’s anger upon him,
and expose him to great perils. Dzanecka was wise enough to comply with
his mother’s wishes.
On a certain day Dzanecka returned to Pataliputra, from the country
place where his mother lived. On his arrival, he, in company with his
brethren, went to the palace to receive alms, that were to be distributed
in the king’s presence in a large hall, fitted for that special purpose.
He occupied the foremost rank. The king, who saw him, could not help
remarking something extraordinary in his person. Suspicions arose in his
bosom respecting the fidelity of that pounha. He instantly felt angry
with him. Unable to control his passions, he ordered one of his officers
to turn him out of the palace without giving him anything. The pounha had
but to obey the unwelcome summons. Stung to the quick by shame and rage,
he rose from his place. When he was just crossing the threshold of the
hall’s entrance, he took off his caste’s string, and cut it in pieces;
he likewise broke his mendicant’s pot, and flung all against one post of
the door of the hall, uttering at the same time imprecations, and praying
that the king might never from that day enjoy rest. He ran away as far as
he could, and under a disguise he eluded the pursuit of those that had
been sent to arrest him. He escaped into Tekkaso. There he plotted the
destruction of the king.
In one of his rambles through the country, Dzanecka met by chance a
child, whom he knew to belong to a royal race. He at once adopted him,
and brought him up with the greatest care and attention. It was not long,
however, ere he found out that the signs prognosticating promotion to
royalty were rather doubtful and somewhat insufficient. He could not rely
on him for the execution of the important and long-cherished design he
had in his heart. He had now to look out for some other one, who could
afford him a greater subject for hope and confidence. Chance soon served
him admirably well, to the utmost of his wishes.
After the destruction of Wethalie by Adzatathat, the princes that had
escaped from the massacre had fled in an eastern direction, and built
a city called Maurya. New misfortunes having befallen them, they were
obliged to search for safety in precipitate flight. One of the wives of
those princes, being in the family way, was led to the city of Pouppaya.
Having been delivered of a son, she had the barbarity to order the little
creature to be put into a jar, which was cast in a neighbouring cow-pen.
The Nats watched over the child, and the bull of the herd, stationing
itself near the infant, kept, with his horns and feet, at a distance any
animal that came near. The cow-keeper, observing what was taking place,
took the child and gave it to his wife Tsanda to bring him up as if he
were their own child. He was called from the name of his adopted parents,
Tsanda-gutta.
When the lad had come to the age to play the cowherd, he assumed among
his fellow-herdsmen all the ways and manners and deportment of a king.
He appointed some of them his ministers; others were invested with other
mock dignities. He would sit on a tribunal, decide small cases, and
strictly enforce the execution of his sentences.
The Pounha Dzanecka, who was living in the neighbourhood, hearing all
this, wished to see the extraordinary boy. He recognised at a glance in
the lad the sure signs foreshadowing his coming greatness. He purchased
him for the sum of one thousand pieces of silver, and brought him up
along with his other adopted son. Each of the boys had a splendid
necklace of gold. On a certain day, Dzanecka ordered Pouppata, for
such was the name of the first adopted son, to take a sword and go to
Tsanda-gutta whilst asleep, and take from him his necklace of gold,
without, however, cutting the thread, or even unloosing it. Pouppata,
agreeably to his father’s order, went near the place where his brother
was sleeping. He stood over him, and examined attentively by what means
he could execute his father’s order. After many fruitless combinations,
finding it impossible to do so, he went back to his father and related
his disappointment. Dzanecka, without addressing him a word of blame,
remained silent.
A few days afterwards, Dzanecka called Tsanda-gutta, and commissioned
him to take a sword, and during his brother’s sleep to steal away from
him his gold necklace, carefully avoiding either to cut the string or to
untie it. Tsanda-gutta went to the place where his brother was sleeping.
After a few moments of reflection, seeing but one way to obey his
father’s order, he cut off at once his brother’s head, and brought entire
the necklace of gold, which he placed at his father’s feet. The latter,
without giving a sign of approbation or displeasure, remained silent.
Dzanecka gave all his treasures to Tsanda-gutta. Having pointed out to
him and minutely explained the course he had to follow for obtaining the
high station he was destined to, the pounha repaired to some other place,
bidding him remember him after he became a king. With the treasures left
at his disposal, Tsanda-gutta levied men, and went on from success to
success, until he possessed himself of Pataliputra and killed Dananda.
He received the water of consecration, and began his reign in 163. That
monarch seems to have been accustomed to the use of poisons. For it
happened that, on a certain day, his first queen, belonging to the Maurya
race, tasted a mouthful of a dish prepared for the king. This caused
her death. At the time of that fatal occurrence she was far advanced in
pregnancy. The king, without a moment’s delay, ordered her belly to be
opened; the infant was taken out and put in the belly of a goat freshly
slain. The child lived, and was called Bandasura.
Tsanda-gutta, after a reign of twenty-four years, died in 187, and was
succeeded by his son Bandasura, only sixteen years old. Both the father
and the son were supporters of the pounhas, and fed daily an immense
number of them in their palace. Bandasura reigned twenty-seven years,
that is to say, until the year 214. He had altogether 101 sons. His first
queen, called Damma, had become the mother of two sons, called Athoka and
Teissa. When she was pregnant of the first, she had five dreams: First,
she thought she was stretching her two feet, one resting on the sun, and
the other on the moon; second, it appeared to her that she was devouring
the stars; third, she fancied she was eating the clouds; fourth, she
imagined she was eating the worms’ dunghills; fifth and finally, she
imagined she was eating the leaves of all the trees. According to the
prediction of the soothsayers, the five dreams meant that the son
whom she had in her womb would rule over the whole of the island of
Tsampoudipa; that he would destroy all his brothers, who would unite to
dispute the throne with him; that he would disperse all the heretics
or upholders of false tenets, who, like clouds, obscure the glory of
religion; that he would possess all above the earth to the height of one
youdzana, and all below the earth to an equal depth.
When Athoka was sixteen years old, his father sent him to Outzeni to
govern that city, and the territories annexed to it. On his way to
that city, Athoka had to pass through Wedika, distant fifty youdzanas
from Pataliputra, in an eastern direction. The town had been founded
by the princes of Kapilawot, when that city had been almost destroyed
in the days of Buddha. In that place he married the daughter of a rich
man, named Dewa. After his arrival at Outzeni, Athoka’s wife presented
him first with a son, who was named Maheinda, and subsequently with a
daughter, called Seingamitta. Athoka remained nine years at Outzeni. At
the end of that period, hearing that his father lay dangerously ill,
he hastened to Pataliputra, to assist him and render all the services
dictated by filial love. On his return, having to pass through Wedika, he
left in that place his wife and his two children. A little while after
his arrival at his father’s capital, the king breathed his last, and
Athoka was proclaimed king.
The new monarch, however, found himself soon surrounded by many enemies.
With the exception of Teissa, who was born from the same mother, all his
brothers conspired against him. The oldest of all, named Thoumana, was
the originator and leader of the rebellion. After a protracted struggle,
Athoka’s good fortune prevailed. His rebellious brother Thoumana was
overcome and made a prisoner; soon after, he was put to death. The same
sad and cruel fate befel the other ninety-eight brothers. But it took
three years before Athoka could free himself from all his enemies. On the
fourth year after his accession to the throne, that is to say, in 218,
he received the royal consecration, and in honour of his mother took the
name of Dammathoka. He obtained a universal sway all over Dzampoudipa.
Up to the period of his consecration, Athoka had always favoured the
pounhas. In imitation of his father’s conduct, he fed daily an immense
number of them in his palace. They all dressed in white clothes. It was
only after he had received the royal consecration that he became a
convert to Buddhism, through the instrumentality of his own nephew, the
Rahan Nigrauda. A few particulars respecting this celebrated religious
may not be unacceptable to the reader.
After Thoumana’s death, his wife Thoumana-dewi was near the moment of her
confinement. Under disguise, she contrived to baffle the snares of her
husband’s enemies and elude their pursuit. She went to the neighbourhood
of the village of Dountsanka, a little distant from Pataliputra in an
eastern direction, and rested under a banyan tree. A small shed was
provided for her, and the head man of the village, who looked upon her as
his daughter, supplied her with food. She was delivered of a son, whom
she named Nigrauda. When he was about seven years old he was confided to
the care of the venerable Varuna, who instructed him in his monastery,
and taught him the Kamatan. He became a religious, and was made a patzin.
The monastery of the venerable Varuna was not very distant from the
southern gate of the city.
On a certain day the young religious Nigrauda rose up at an early hour,
and having paid his respects to his great instructor, put on his cloak,
and, taking under his arm the mendicant’s pot, left his monastery,
entered the city by the southern gate, and shaped his course towards the
eastern one, with the intention of going to visit his mother. At that
very moment King Athoka was standing over the lion’s gate of his palace
enjoying the cool of the morning breeze. He saw the young religious
passing with a grave and steady step. All was graceful and dignified in
his deportment. A placid joy, a serene modesty, and a majestic appearance
beautified his countenance to such an extent that, at the first look,
the king felt an irresistible affection for the young Samane. Without
a moment’s delay he despatched an officer to call him. With a kind and
affectionate tone the king invited him to ascend the steps of his palace,
and insisted on serving him with his meal. When the repast was over,
Athoka said: “Young Samane, do you know well all the doctrines taught by
your instructor?” “I am somewhat acquainted with them,” replied Nigrauda
modestly. “If such be the case, will you be pleased to explain them to
me?” He then said in reply: “He who is diligent in practising the duties
that procure merits enjoys true happiness; he shall be exempt from death.
He who neglects the duties that procure merits is unhappy, and is in a
state of death.” The king, delighted with the instruction delivered to
him by the young Samane, offered him several presents suitable to the
religious profession. But Nigrauda would not accept them, except in the
name and for the benefit of his instructor; because it was he who had the
charge of teaching people to avoid evil, to do good, and to practise the
religious duties. As to him, he was but a disciple. Athoka was greatly
pleased with the modesty and disinterestedness of the young Samane.
On other occasions the king sent for Nigrauda, and heard his instructions
with such a good result that he gradually became a perfect convert.
By the advice of his spiritual guide, Athoka made daily presents to a
certain number of religious of the Buddhistic persuasion. The number
of the religious who every day attended the court to receive presents
gradually swelled to the amount of 60,000. Nigrauda instructed his royal
pupil on the three Saranans and the five precepts. He infused into his
soul a tender love for Buddha and his religion. The great change in the
king’s dispositions happened on the fourth year after his coronation. Up
to that time he had favoured the party of the pounhas, as his father and
grandfather had done. He was in the habit of daily affording food and
maintenance to sixty thousand pounhas wearing the white dress.
Not satisfied with the liberal offerings of every day, the king said to
the Rahans: “My intention is to build a great number of dzedis in all the
cities of Dzampoudipa. But where are to be found the relics of the most
excellent Buddha, that they may be divided and enshrined in the principal
dzedis?” By his order the relics were searched for in every direction.
The dzedis already built in Wethalie, Kapilawot, Allakappa, Pawa, and
Koutheinaron were all demolished. An exception was made in favour of the
dzedi in the village of Rama. The Nagas, guardians of the place, would
not allow that monument to be touched. In vain did the workmen strive
with pickaxes to demolish the dzedi. Their instruments broke in pieces as
soon as they came in contact with the building. But in none of them could
the precious deposit be found. The king commanded that the demolished
sacred monuments should be rebuilt precisely in the same shape and form
as they stood previously. Athoka, disappointed but undismayed by his
want of success, directed his steps towards Radzagio, and resolved not
to relax in his exertions until he had found the precious object of his
eager desires. Having arrived at that place, he assembled all the Rahans
and people, and inquired if there was no person who could lead him in the
way to discover the relics. In the crowd there was a Rahan one hundred
and twenty years old, who said that when he was a Samane about seven
years old, his superior directed him to take some flowers and perfumes,
and, leading him to a retired place, said to him, “You see that dark bush
in the middle of which there is a small stone dzedi; let us prostrate
ourselves before it and make our offering.” When this was done he added
with a solemn tone of voice, “Young Samane, observe well this spot, and
ever remember it.” He said nothing more, and we returned to our home.
“This is doubtless,” said the king, “the very spot I am searching after,
without having ever been able hitherto to discover it.” The king and
his people hastened to the indicated place. Great offerings were made
to the guardian Nat in order to propitiate him. The Nat, assuming the
shape of a young man, removed all the obstacles that obstructed the way
to the place. When the king was near the first door, he discovered the
ruby whereupon was seen the above-related inscription. On touching the
bolt the door was suddenly opened, when, to the great surprise of all
present, the lamps that had been lighted two hundred and eighteen years
ago were found burning and full of oil; the flowers, without the least
sign of withering, were as fresh and beautiful as those in the gardens;
the smell of the perfumes seemed to be even more exquisite than that of
new ones. The king, taking the gold leaf, read the inscription concerning
him. He took all the relics, except a few that he left therein, replaced
and arranged everything as he had found it. The finding of the relics
happened in 218.[33]
All that has been herein above related respecting the partition of the
relics by Dauna, &c., has been extracted from the book called Nibana
Thoot. But he who wishes to know all the particulars concerning the
places where the relics have been deposited, &c., must have recourse to
the books called Data Win and Nalatadata Win.
On a certain day a likeness of Buddha was placed before the eyes of
Athoka. The king was delighted with it. He wished to multiply the number
of statues, so that they could be seen in every part of his dominions.
He gave orders for the building of monasteries in the 84,000 towns of
his immense dominions. This happened in 220 of the religious era. It was
but three years afterwards, that is to say, in 223, that the dedication
or consecration of the dzedis took place, in which portions of the
relics were to be enshrined. Throughout his realm the king issued a
proclamation inviting all the people to attend to the observance of the
eight precepts. The royal mandate was duly attended to, and the religious
festival celebrated with the greatest solemnity. On that occasion the
king made abundant donations to the religious, and strove to display his
zeal for the promotion of religion.
Delighted with all that he had done, the king said to the venerable
Mauggalipata: “I have endeavoured to labour for the exaltation of
religion by every means in my power. I have built religious monuments
through the length and breadth of my dominions; I have made offerings
on the grandest scale. May I now consider myself as entitled to the
inheritance of religion?” The venerable Mauggalipata replied: “Great
prince, you have indeed done much towards the advancement of the good
cause. But something else more excellent still is to be performed that
you may acquire a right to the inheritance of religion.” “What is
that?” asked the king. “It is most perfect and meritorious,” replied
Mauggalipata, “that you should consecrate your son Maheinda and your
daughter Singameitta to the service of religion.” Athoka immediately
asked his son, who was eighteen years old, whether he would like to
become a religious. Maheinda answered in the affirmative. He was
forthwith ordained Samane. Mauggalipata acted on the occasion as
president, and Mahadewana as master of the ceremonies. Singameitta was
similarly ordained. The president was Dammapata, and the person acting
in the ceremony was Oopali. This happened in 223. Maheinda learned the
Pitagat under the immediate superintendence and tuition of Mauggalipata
himself. His proficiency both in the study of religious science and in
the practice of virtue was so great that his teacher placed him at the
head of a thousand Rahans, whom he was commissioned to instruct.
The great liberality of the king towards the Buddhists, the efforts that
he made for the promotion of the new religion he had embraced, alarmed
those who belonged to the opposite party. The pounhas saw themselves
without support, and unable to provide for their maintenance. They had
recourse to the following expedient to secure their livelihood, and also
a well-concerted plan to weaken their enemies. They all assumed the
yellow dress, entered into the Buddhistic monasteries, and affected to be
converts, without being so in reality. They retained their own opinions,
and even as regards regulations they refused to comply with some of the
ordinances of the Wini. Some of them fed large fires; others exposed
themselves to various degrees of excessive heat; others affected the
mania of fixing their eyes upon the sun in the morning, and following
it in its course during the whole day.[34] Many appeared to lay little
stress on several portions of the Pitagat. As a matter of course, the
true religious were much scandalised at such a conduct, and refused to
hold communion with them on the days of worship. This state of things,
after having lasted seven years, produced an irritation that could be no
longer tolerated. Mauggalipata, disgusted at such a perturbation, left
Maheinda at the head of the community, and withdrew to the Ahan Ginga
mountain to enjoy some tranquillity.
King Athoka was informed of the prevailing disorder. With the view of
pacifying the inmates of the monasteries, he sent an officer of his
household with stringent orders to oblige the two parties to come to
an understanding, to communicate with each other, and to worship in
common on the festival days. The officer went to one of the monasteries,
explained the royal order, and drew his sword, threatening to cut off
the head of the first Rahan who would dare to offer opposition. One of
the orthodox party came forward, and having explained the true state of
things, concluded by firmly stating that he would not hold communion with
heretics. The officer in vain expostulated, and entreated the religious
not to be so tenacious in his views, but rather to show a willingness
to obey the king’s orders, for the sake of peace. The latter persisted
in his refusal. The officer, carried away by passion, struck off the
head of the refractory Rahan. An immense uproar followed this tragical
occurrence. All hopes of bringing about a pacification were then at an
end. The officer withdrew from the monastery, and related to the king all
the particulars as they had occurred.
Athoka bitterly deplored the murder that had been committed on a saintly
personage, and reproached the officer with having outstepped the orders
he had received. His religious feelings were grievously hurt, and his
conscience greatly alarmed. He sent for several religious, and consulted
them as to whether he was responsible for the murder committed by his
officer. The spiritual advisers did not agree in their decision. Some
of them were of opinion that the king was answerable for the doing of
his messenger; others declared that the king, having given no order to
the effect of using violence, the officer alone was responsible for the
murder. Such conflicting opinions increased the king’s perplexities, and
threw him in a state of great anxiety and uneasiness.
Some courtiers, grieved at the sadness which overspread their master’s
mind, advised him to send for the celebrated Mauggalipata, and abide
by the decision of that eminent man, whose knowledge was unsurpassed.
The king gladly accepted the proposal. A messenger with a great retinue
was at first sent to the place of Mauggalipata. The king’s desires were
respectfully explained. But the old ascetic refused to quit his abode of
peace. A second messenger was despatched, but with no better success. At
last a third one was sent on the same errand, with several religious.
The latter, who knew the great zeal of Mauggalipata for promoting the
cause of religion, represented to him the imminent dangers religion was
threatened with, and entreated him to come, and by his presence save it
from an approaching ruin. On hearing this sad news the old man no longer
hesitated. He immediately left his abode, went in the boat prepared for
him, and gently sailed down the mighty stream to Pataliputra. The news
of his coming down was spread in a moment. When the boat was reported to
be near the city, the king, with his whole court, hastened to the banks
of the Ganges. On her nearing the bank, Athoka went knee-deep into the
stream, and helping the venerable Mauggalipata with his royal hand out of
the boat, led him into a garden, where a suitable place had been prepared
for his residence. There he sat at his feet, and rendered to him the same
humble services which a disciple is wont to tender to his teacher.
The king, anxious to alleviate his scruples and relieve his much-troubled
conscience, related the particulars of the case of the Rahan’s murder,
and concluded by asking whether he was to be considered as responsible
for the death of the religious. Mauggalipata said, “O king, had you,
when you despatched the officer, the intention of having any refractory
Rahan put to death?” “No,” replied the king. “Since you gave no such
order to your officer, and you had no intention that any disobedience
to your orders should be visited with capital punishment, the murder of
the religious can in no way be imputed unto you, because intention is
the thing that makes actions good or bad, and entails merits or sin on
the perpetrator.” Athoka recovered at once his peace and tranquillity of
mind. Meanwhile he entreated the venerable Mauggalipata to labour for the
extinction of schism and the exaltation of religion.
Seven days after the arrival of the great religious, a vast hall was
erected in the grove where Mauggalipata was living. At the end of it a
fine pavilion made of cloth of various and bright colours was prepared
for the accommodation of the monarch. Each religious had then to be
examined separately in the presence of Mauggalipata on the doctrines
and practices he held as genuine and good. Those whose doctrines and
observances were found to be at variance with the Pitagat were expelled
from the assembly, stripped of the canonical robe, and compelled to
resume the white dress, that is to say, the one befitting the pounhas.
The presence of the king silenced all murmurs, and rendered any attempt
at resistance impossible. In this manner the orthodox Rahans were
separated from the heterodox ones.
To heal the wounds inflicted on religion by schism, to restore purity of
doctrine, and confirm the genuineness of the canon of scriptures, such as
had been done by Kathaba in the first council, and by Ratha in the second
one, Mauggalipata, with the concurrence of the pious Dammathoka, resolved
to hold a third council. From the Rahans then present at Palibotra he
selected a thousand, and with them he regulated the Pitagat. The council
was opened in the year 235, and ended in 236 = to 307 B.C. It was
presided over by Mauggalipata, who was seventy-two years old.[35]
At the conclusion of the council, the president, who was acknowledged
the head of the Buddhists, thought of extending the sway of the new
religion through the whole of Dzampoudipa. Hitherto it had been confined
within the limits of Magatha. Now the time had come to extend it far and
wide among the nations and tribes of the whole world. To carry out such
a bold and comprehensive plan, Mauggalipata made an appeal to the ablest
and most zealous members of the council, and charged a certain number of
them to go and preach the true law in the countries beyond the boundaries
of Magatha. The venerable Mitzaganti with four companions, was directed
to proceed to the country of Kashmera-gandara. Rewati was ordered to go
to Mahithakan-pantala. Gaunaka-damma Reckita went to Aparanta. Maha-damma
Reckita was sent to the Mahrata country. Damma Reckita received a mission
to proceed to Yaunaka, which is the country inhabited by the Pantsays.
The venerable Mitzi directed his steps, in company with several brethren,
towards some parts in the Himalayas. Thauna and Outtara proceeded in
a south-eastern direction to the country of Souwana-boumi. Finally
Maheinda, Ittia, Outtia, Thamala, and Baddathala went to establish
religion into the island of Tappapani (Ceylon).[36]
Great success attended the preachings of the Buddhist heralds. If credit
can be given to all that is related in the books on this subject,
religion must have taken deep root in the heart of the people dwelling in
those distant lands.
As regards Ceylon, there is an important fact to be stated. It appears
that until the year of religion 454, the knowledge of the Pitagat was
transmitted by means of oral tradition. The heads of monasteries required
from their pupils to know the whole collection by heart. It is probable
that one portion of the scriptures was learned by one section of the
community, and another by another. In this manner the whole Pitagat was
known in each monastery, and could be rehearsed in full by the inmates.
This state of things lasted two hundred years. The great inconvenience
necessarily attending it was soon felt so keenly that some means had to
be devised in order to render the study of the sacred books surer and
easier. In the reign of King Watakamani five hundred religious assembled
in the village of Mallaya, and wrote the whole Pitagat in Sanscrit,
and with the Sanscrit characters. Under the reign of that monarch a
great dearth prevailed all over the island. Numerous Buddhist religious
crossed over to the continent, and established religion in many parts
of the southern portion of the peninsula. That prince also built the
famous Bayagiri monastery. With the Mahawihara already existing, and the
Dzetawon monastery subsequently erected, there sprung up three distinct
schools. The latter was erected in 811, in the time of King Mathena
of Ceylon. But the teaching of the Mahawihara was the only one truly
orthodox. After a protracted existence, they were all merged in the
Mahawihara school, under the reign of Thiri Singa-bodiparanna-maba, in
the year of the Pouppa-dzau era (Pagan era), 522; of religion, 1714 = to
1161 A.D.
The venerable Thauna and Outtara of the pounha race came to the district
of Thaton,[37] which is called Souwana-boumi, in the country of
Ramagnia, for the purpose of establishing religion in that distant land,
which lies south-east of Mitzima. Thiri-mathauka was the king who at
that time reigned at Thaton. Previous to the arrival of the Buddhist
messengers of peace, the town was desolated by the ravages of Biloos,
who, coming from the sea, devoured all the newly-born infants. A great
consternation and panic had seized the inhabitants when they saw the two
strangers, clothed in yellow robes, setting their feet upon the shore.
They mistook them for monsters of a new description, who were coming to
increase their misfortune. They ran to arms, and were preparing to attack
the two religious. The latter, perceiving the danger that threatened
them, said with a meek tone of voice to the infuriated mob, “Why do you
attack us? We are not Biloos, nor are we come hither with any hostile
intention. Know ye that we profess a religion which forbids us to take
away intentionally the life of even the smallest insect, to rob, to
commit adultery, and to use spirituous and intoxicating liquors. By our
regulations we are allowed to eat rice but once in a day.” On hearing
the explanations given by the two strangers, the people of Thaton were
quieted. They received them with kindness, and treated them with great
respect. By the power inherent in the two religious, the sea-Biloo was
put to flight, and was seen no longer. The king and the people, grateful
for the service they had received, and delighted with the new doctrine
preached to them, accepted joyfully the five precepts, and promised to
observe them. An immense number of men and women were converted. Among
the new converts, a great many embraced the religious life.
King Thiri-mathauka was informed that, a little while after Gaudama’s
death, a Rahan, named Gambawatti, had brought thirty-three teeth of
Buddha, and deposited them in a dzedi upon the mount Inda-danoo, which
lies north-east of Thaton. Moreover, he had heard that after the eighth
season, Gaudama had gone to Mitila. Whilst he dwelt into that place, it
happened that a certain Rahan came to remember of some of his relatives
whom he had known during a former existence. He saw them living in
Thaton. He then earnestly supplicated his great master to condescend to
go to that place and preach the law to his relatives. Gaudama, complying
with the request, resorted thither through the air, attended by a great
retinue. He preached the law, and previous to his departure, gave to the
ruler of Thaton eight hairs of his head. Relying on the accuracy of the
information, Thiri-mathauka felt a great desire to find out the precious
relics, in order to have them distributed in eleven towns of Henzawatti,
in eleven towns of Kouthein, and in eleven towns of Mouttama. These three
countries constitute what is called Ramagnia. All happened agreeably
to his wishes. The relics were duly found on mount Inda-danoo, in the
very dzedi in which they had been enshrined, and were distributed in the
various towns, as above mentioned. It is probable that there occurred at
Thaton the same curious fact which we know to have taken place in Ceylon,
viz.: Religion was propagated at first by the means of oral tradition.
The first one who made an attempt to possess himself of a copy of the
sacred scriptures was Buddhagosa, a religious of Thaton, of the pounha
race. That man embarked at Thaton, which was then on or near the sea.
That place is in the Ramagnia country, and is inhabited by a people
called Moun. He sailed to Ceylon in the year of religion 943,[38] under
the reign of King Mahanama. He resided three years on that island, wrote
the Pitagat on palm leaves with the Burmese characters which was found
written in the language and characters of Ceylon. In another manuscript
we read that he translated into Pali the scriptures which were in the
language of Ceylon. Buddhagosa remained three years in Ceylon, in order
to complete the work he had undertaken. During his stay in that island
the people were so much pleased with him that they made him many and
costly presents on his leaving their country. He brought over with him to
Souwana-boumi, which is in the Ramagnia country, a complete collection of
the scriptures.
In or about the year of the Pagan era 419,[39] the forty-second, some
say, the forty-fourth king of Pagan, named Anaurata, having invaded
the Ramagnia country, possessed himself of the Moun’s territories and
entered triumphant into the venerable city of Thaton. He took away from
that place the collection of scriptures brought over from Ceylon by
Buddhagosa, as well as the most learned among the Rahans. With the aid
of these distinguished Rahans, religion was then firmly established in
Pagan. He became master of the whole of the Ramagnia country, which
includes Henzawatti, Mouttama, and Kouthein.
We have alluded briefly to the reconciliation that has taken place in
Ceylon between the three great schools. Two of them, the Bayagiri and
the Dzetawon, merged into the great Mahawihara school, which had always
held up the orthodox doctrines. In the year that followed that event—that
is to say, in the year of religion 1714 of the Pagan’s era 522[40]—many
Rahans, natives of Thaton, Pagan and other places in Ramagnia, attended
by a large retinue, crossed over to Ceylon for the express purpose of
worshipping the relics and the Bodi tree, and making themselves perfectly
acquainted with the genuine doctrine and discipline. As a matter of
course, they joined the Mahawihara school. They remained on that island
during nearly one year. One of the party, named Tsapada, who was but a
young Samane, was raised to the dignity of Patzin, according to the rules
and regulations adopted by the Mahawihara. The party, having performed
their devotions, and penetrated themselves with the spirit of the
community in which they had spent a year, returned to their countries.
The young religious, who had been but recently ordained, applied to his
superior and obtained permission to remain behind in Ceylon for the
purpose of studying the Pitagat and mastering its contents.
After ten years of unwearied application he went back with four
companions, named Maheinda, Thiwali, Ananda, and Rahula. After their
landing in the neighbourhood of Cape Negrais, they spent a year in
Kouthein, and finally reached Pagan in the eighth year of the reign of
King Narapati-sisoo of the Pagan era 534 = to 1173 A.D. In this manner,
by the exertions of those five religious, the religion of Ceylon was
firmly established and set up in Pagan. In this manner the doctrines and
institutions preached and set up in Ceylon by Maheinda and his companions
were blended with the doctrines and institutions which the venerable
Thauna and Outtara had established in Thaton. Both flourished in Pagan
and were much extended.[41]
The brilliant and glorious reign of Narapati-sisoo was soon followed by
a series of misfortunes, which contributed to the weakening of his great
empire, and finally brought on its total overthrow. Pagan was taken by
foreign invaders. In the midst of such calamities three noblemen, named
Radzasingian, Asinkara, and Sihasoo, set themselves up as kings, the
first in Miyntsain, the second in Pekkara, and the third in Pinlay, in
the year 662 = to 1301 A.D. The King of Miyntsain, having treacherously
enticed Kiantza, the king of Pagan, to visit him in his new capital,
detained him under various pretexts, and finally had him murdered.
Thaunit, the son of Kiantza, hearing of his father’s detention, ascended
the throne of Pagan, and reigned twenty-two years. He was succeeded by
his brother Mouhnit, who reigned forty-three years. With him ended the
line of Pagan kings in 730 = to 1369 A.D.
Sihasoo, the King of Pinlay, reigned in that place twelve years, and
in 684 removed the seat of royalty to Panya. In that place there were
successively five kings, whose aggregate number of years on the throne
amounts to fifteen.
One son of Sihasoo, named Athinkara-dzau-goun, established royalty in
Tsitkain in 684 = to 1323 A.D. Under the reign of his son and successor,
named Thirimega, a canine tooth of Gaudama was brought to Tsitkain. The
king had the precious relic placed in a golden casket, and enshrined in a
turret of his palace. He daily worshipped it.
Thirimega having died, his two sons Dzeta and Tissa quarrelled about the
crown. Neither of them ever had the title of king; both of them oppressed
the country during nine years. The son of Dzeta, named Budadasa, became
king, and reigned during twenty-nine years. It was under the reign of
that monarch that five venerable religious, who were well versed in the
science of the Pitagat, translated the whole compilation, which was in
Sanscrit, into the language of Ceylon (Pali).[42]
Tsitkain ceased to be a royal residence in 725 = to 1364 A.D., and in
the following year the city of Ava was founded on the sixth of the
waxing moon of Tabaong, on a Tuesday at noon, under the constellation
Pounna-pha-shou.
On the following year, Mouhnit, king of Pagan, died at the age of
sixty-four, after a reign of forty-three years, with whom ended the
line of the Pagan monarchs. In the great city of Ava religion greatly
flourished, and in 1134 = to 1773 A.D., this book was composed[43] in
the province of Dybayen.
For the purpose of creating and increasing feelings of affection towards
the most excellent Buddha,[44] who is greater than the three rational
beings, towards his glorious perfections, as well as the law and the
assembly, I have, to the best of my abilities, endeavoured to translate
from the Pali into Burmese the sacred book called Malla-linkara-wouttoo,
or history of the most excellent flower.
AN ABSTRACT OF A FEW SMALL DZATS, AND OF TWO PRINCIPAL ONES, CALLED NEMI
AND DZANECKA.
The writer has thought that it would not be without interest to the
reader to make a few remarks respecting the five hundred and ten Dzats
so famous amongst the Burmese, and to give as a specimen of those
compositions the abbreviated translation of some of those fabulous
accounts. We will begin with a few of the small Dzats, and end with the
compendious summaries of two of the great ones, known under the names of
Nemi and Dzanecka. The Buddhists of these parts maintain that all the
Dzats contain a short and concise narrative of some of the circumstances
attending certain existences of Gaudama, when he was born in the state
of animal, man, prince, nobleman, poor, rich, Nat, &c. The narrator is
no other than Gaudama himself, who is supposed to have condescended to
make his disciples and the crowds of hearers acquainted with certain
particulars relating to his person whilst he was passing through the
slow process of metempsychosis and gradually gravitating towards the
perfection he had at last reached. In fact, each of these pieces is
prefaced with these words: When the most excellent Buddha was in such a
monastery, surrounded with his disciples, he spoke as follows, &c.
It is not improbable that some of these stories may have been told by
Gaudama for the two following purposes: First, to impress his hearers
with a profound respect for his incomparable wisdom, which enabled him to
penetrate into the deep recesses of the past, and to bring to light some
events hitherto buried in its dark bosom. The second and principal object
he had in view was to give some important lessons to his disciples, to
correct some of their defects, and stir up others to the practice of the
highest deeds which he had himself performed during former existences. On
his respect Gaudama followed the practice of all Eastern sages, who had
recourse to the use of parables, similitudes, apologues, &c., in order to
convey, under a gentle, amiable, graceful, and interesting form, the most
important instructions, designed to enlighten the mind and correct the
heart.
The collection or compilation comprises most of those fables that are
to be met with amongst most of the Asiatic nations, whence they have
found their way to Europe, first among the Greeks, and next the Western
nations. The writer has been not a little surprised to find in that
collection a number of fables the very same as those so inimitably
narrated by the great French fabulist, the good La Fontaine. This is
another confirmation to the old adage, There is nothing new under the sun.
These stories have certainly an Indian origin; at least the Burmans have
received them, as almost all the things that are connected with their
religion, from that quarter. Under despotic governments, the plain and
naked truth cannot show itself, or make its voice to be heard, without
exposing its friends to the most imminent dangers on the part of those
tyrants who practically maintain that their will must ever stand above
truth and reason. Stories nicely told were the pleasing and innocent but
necessary dress which that sacred goddess was obliged to wear in order
to make her presence supportable to the despots, and help her friends
to find favour with those whose absolute and uncontrollable sway made
everybody bow the head in their awful though detested presence.
The first five hundred stories have, it seems, no historical value
whatever. They are most of them short and concise. But the last ten may
very likely contain many facts or allusions to individuals and places
that might afford a clue to some parts of the history and geography of
India in days of a remote antiquity. A complete translation of the ten
Dzats might not be without interest, provided such a work be accompanied
with copious notes, made by a competent person, well acquainted with the
ancient history of India.
All the stories end with a most important disclosure made by Gaudama
himself. The personage that has played the most important and
praiseworthy _rôle_ is, as a matter of course, our Buddha himself.
Those who befriended him, assisted him, and rendered him any services,
are those who subsequently became his favourite and most distinguished
disciples and hearers; whilst those who acted in any reprehensible
manner, who opposed him and did him harm, afterwards became the
individuals who were in his days heretics or holders of false doctrines,
and in particular his arch enemy, the notoriously wicked Dewadat.
The compilation of all these stories is prefaced as follows:—In the
country of Amarawadi lived a pounha named Thoumeda. After the death
of his father he became the owner of a considerable estate. Having
enjoyed it during many years, he began to reflect on the many and
various accidents attending human life, and came to the resolution of
leaving the world. He therefore distributed in alms all his riches, and
withdrew into solitude, to lead an ascetic life. He soon reached a high
degree of perfection. At that time Deipinkara, one in the series of the
twenty-eight Buddhas, came to that country, attended by 400,000 Rahans,
to beg his food. Our Rathee Thoumeda, having nothing to offer to the
great Buddha and the assembly, came, threw himself at his feet, and
delivered himself up soul and body to his service. In another compilation
it is stated that Thoumeda had volunteered his services to level a
portion of a road that Deipinkara was to follow. The work was finished,
with the exception of a small gap that was not yet filled, when the
Buddha made his appearance. The hermit, without a moment’s hesitation,
flung himself on the ground, and bridged the place with his own body.
It was at the sight of such a perfect abnegation of self that Buddha gave
to Thoumeda the assurance that one day he would become a Buddha. On that
occasion great wonders took place.
From that time he began to practise with a fervent earnestness the great
virtues and perfections prescribed by the law. The whole period of time
that elapsed from the time Gaudama was the pounha Thoumeda to the time
he became Prince Wethandara—that is to say, reached that existence
which immediately preceded the last one, when he became Buddha—is of
four thingies and one hundred thousand worlds or revolutions of nature.
A detailed account of the most meritorious and interesting actions
performed by him during several existences that illustrated that almost
incalculable period is to be found in the great dzedi of Ceylon.
The accounts must be short and concise, otherwise the dzedi above
referred to, how large soever we may suppose it to have been, could never
have held them.
_THE FOX AND THE LION._
1. When the most excellent Buddha was in the Dzetawon monastery,
surrounded by his disciples, desiring to correct a religious who was in
the habit of keeping bad company, he narrated the following story: At the
time that the Princes Bramanas reigned at Baranathee, Phralaong was then
a lion, father to two little ones, one male and the other female. The
first was named Menandza. The lion’s household, when Menandza was grown
up and had married, was composed in all of five individuals. Menandza,
strong and bold, went out every day in quest of prey for the support of
his four relations that remained in the den. One day, in the middle of
one of his predatory excursions, he happened to meet with a fox, which
was lying on his belly, in a most respectful posture. On being asked
by the proud lion, with a terrific voice, heightened by a threatening
glance, what he was doing, the fox respectfully answered: “I am humbly
prostrated here to do homage and pay my respects to your majesty.”
“Well,” said Menandza; and he took him alive to his den. As soon as the
father saw the fox, he said to his son: “My son, the fox is an animal
full of cunning and deceit, faithless, without honour, addicted to all
wicked practices, and always engaged and embroiled in some bad affairs;
be on your guard; beware of such a companion, and forthwith send him
away.” Unheeding his father’s wise advice, Menandza persisted in his
resolution, and kept his new friend with him.
On a certain day the fox intimated to Menandza that he longed to eat
the flesh of a young colt. “Where is the place these animals are wont
to graze?” asked Menandza. “On the banks of the river of Baranathee,”
replied the fox. Both started immediately for the indicated spot. They
saw there a great number of horses bathing in the river. Menandza, in
an instant, pounced upon a young one, and carried it to his den. “It is
not prudent,” said the old father, “to eat those animals which belong
to the king. One day he will cause you to be shot from a distance with
arrows, and kill you. No lion that eats horse-flesh has ever lived long.
From this day cease to attack those animals.” Deaf to such wholesome
warnings, Menandza continued to carry destruction among the horses. News
was soon conveyed to the king that a lion and a fox were making great
havoc among his horses. He ordered the animals to be kept within the
town. The lion, however, contrived to seize some and carry them away.
Orders were given to keep them in an enclosure. Despite this precaution,
some horses disappeared. Enraged at this, the king called a bowman and
asked him whether he could transfix a lion with his arrows. The bowman
said that he could do it. Hereupon, leaving the king, he went and hid
himself behind a post, waiting for the offender. It was not long ere he
made his appearance; but the cautious fox had remained somewhat to the
rear, hidden in a drain. In one start, the lion, with the quickness of
lightning, was on the wall, and straightway he went to the stable. The
bowman said within himself: “The lion’s movements are very quick; I will
wait until he come back loaded with his prey.” He had scarcely revolved
this thought in his mind, when the lion was already on his way back
carrying a horse. The bowman, all ready, shot an arrow that transfixed
the fierce animal. The lion made a start, crying with a terrific voice,
“I am wounded.” The fox, hearing his friend’s accents, and the sharp
whistling of the bow-string, knew at once what had happened. He said to
himself, shaking his head: “There is no friendship, forsooth, with the
dead; my friend has fallen under the bowman’s arrow; my life is safe; I
will go back to my former place.”
The wounded lion, making a last effort, went back to his den, and dropped
dead at its entrance.
Menandza’s relatives, perceiving the wound and the blood gushing out of
it, understood at once that he had been shot through with an arrow, and
that the fox was the cause of his miserable and untimely end. His mother
gave vent to her grief as follows: “Whoever associates with the wicked
shall not live long; behold my Menandza is no more, because he followed
the fox’s advice.” The father, in his turn, bewailed the loss of his
son: “He who goes in company with the wicked shall meet with some evil
fate; witness my son, whom his desolate mother sees weltering in the very
blood she gave him.” His sister cried aloud: “He who does not follow the
advice of the good shall repent of it; he is mad, and, like my brother,
shall come to an untimely and cruel end.” Menandza’s wife exclaimed: “He
who belongs to a superior rank ought to beware to associate with those
of a rank inferior to his own, otherwise he soon becomes as despicable
as those he associates with. He loses his position, and becomes the
laughing-stock of all.”
Buddha concluded his discourse with this reflection, that no one ought
to keep company with those that are wicked and of an inferior position.
The religious profited so well by the lecture that he broke at once with
his former friends, and soon reached the state of Thautapan. The fox has
been since Dewadat, Menandza, the religious, the object of the lecture,
Menandza’s sister, Oopalawon; his wife, Kema; his mother, Yathaudara; his
father, Phralaong.
_THE JACKAL AND THE HUNTER._
2. When the most excellent Phra was in the Weloowon monastery, alluding
to Dewadat, who aimed at harming him, he spoke as follows: “At the time
the Princes Bramanas reigned at Baranathee, Phralaong was then a jackal,
presiding over 500 other jackals of his own tribe. His dwelling-place
was in a cemetery. One day it happened that the inhabitants of Radzagio
made a great feast, where every one ate and drank as much as he liked.
The repast was nearly over when some one asked for a last piece of meat,
to give the finishing-stroke to his appetite. He was told that not the
smallest morsel remained. On hearing this unwelcome news, he rose up,
laying hold of a wooden club, and went straight to the cemetery. Then
stretching himself on the ground, he lay down as if dead. Phralaong,
cautiously drawing near to the pretended dead body, smelt it from a
becoming distance, and soon discovered the snare laid for him. Coming
up close to him, he suddenly seized the club with his teeth, pulling it
with all his might. The young man did not let go his hold. The animal,
withdrawing, said to the hunter: “Young man, I perceive now that you
are not dead.” The hunter, goaded with shame and anger, rose up, and
with more energy than dexterity flung his club at the jackal; but he
missed him. “Go away,” said he, “wretched beast; you may boast that you
have escaped this time.” “Yes,” mildly replied the jackal; “I have been
saved from your club; but no one shall ever be able to preserve you from
the punishment in the eight great hells.” Having thus spoken, he soon
disappeared. The young man, having washed away in the ditch the dust that
covered him, walked back, quite disappointed, into the town. The hunter
was the same that subsequently became Dewadat. As to the jackal, he is
the same that has since become Buddha.
_THE PIGEON AND THE HUNTER._
3. When Phra was in the Dzetawon monastery, desiring to give instruction
to the young son of a nobleman, named Ootara, he spoke as follows. At the
time the Princes Bramanas reigned at Baranathee, Phralaong was a pigeon.
There was then a man in that country who was wont to catch pigeons, bring
them to his house, and carefully feed them until they became fat, when
he then sold them at a high rate. Together with other pigeons, Phralaong
was caught and brought over to the house. But he would not peck the grain
that was spread before him. “Should I eat,” said he to himself, “I will
soon get fat, and then be sold like others.” He soon became wretchedly
thin. Surprised at this, the hunter took the pigeon out of the cage,
placed it on the palm of his hand to examine it more closely and find the
cause of its great leanness. Phralaong, watching the opportunity of a
favourable moment when the attention of his guardian was called to some
other object, flew away to his own old place, leaving the hunter quite
vexed at and ashamed of his confiding simplicity. The hunter is in these
days Dewadat; and the pigeon is now Buddha himself.
Here is the abridgment of two stories, well known to the readers of
fables.
4. When Phralaong was a deer, he became intimate friend with the bird
khaoukshia and a turtle. On a certain night it happened that a hunter
having laid down his net, the deer was caught. A tortoise that was near
to the place came and bit the net; the deer then soon made his escape
from the dangerous position he was in. Whilst this was going on the
friendly khaoukshia, perceiving the danger his friend was in, amused the
hunter by flying right and left close to him, to retard his progress
towards the place where the net was laid. Mad at the escape of the
deer, he seized the turtle and thrust her into his bag. But the wily
bird contrived by its peckings to make a large hole in the bag, and the
tortoise too made her escape.
5. One day Phralaong, being then a husbandman, observed once, to his
great surprise, that a lion of an uncommon size paid frequent visits to
his rice field, and ate and destroyed many of the young plants. On a
certain occasion he examined closely the intruder, and perceiving the
extremities of his feet, he discovered that the pretended lion was but a
colt that had clothed himself in a lion’s skin.
_NEMI._
When the most excellent Buddha was in the country of Mitila, he went,
attended by a great many Rahans, to the monastery of Meggadawa, situated
in the middle of a beautiful grove of mango trees. He spoke as follows
to the assembly: “Beloved Bickus, in former times I lived in this very
place where we are now congregated, and was the ruler of the country of
Mitila.” He then remained silent. Ananda respectfully entreated him to
condescend to narrate to them some of the principal events that happened
at that time. Buddha assented to the request, and said: “Formerly there
reigned at Mitila a prince named Minggadewa. During 82,000 years he
remained a prince, and spent all his time in the enjoyment of all sorts
of pleasure; he was crown prince of that country during the same space of
time, and reigned as king during a similar period.”
On a certain day the barber of the king having detected a grey hair on
the royal head, exhibited it to his astonished regards. The king, struck
at such a sight, soon understood that this object was the forerunner of
death. He gave up the throne, and resolved to become a Rahan. Having
put into execution his resolve, he practised with the greatest zeal the
highest virtues, and after his death migrated to one of the fortunate
seats of Brahmas. The 82,000 princes who succeeded him followed his
footsteps, inherited his virtues, and after their demise obtained a place
in the same seat.
Prince Minggadewa, who had opened the way to such a succession of pious
monarchs, perceiving that his race was near being extinct, left the seat
of Brahmas and took flesh in the womb of the queen of the king who then
governed Mitila. On the tenth month the queen was delivered of a son, who
received the name of Nemi. The pounhas who were invited to the palace to
tell the horoscope of the royal child assured the king that this child
would follow the example of all his predecessors who had left the throne
and embraced the profession of Rahans.
From his tender age the young prince displayed the most liberal and pious
dispositions in making abundant alms, and fervently observing all the
religious practices. All the inhabitants of that kingdom followed his
example, and when some one died, he migrated to one of the Nats’ seats.
During those happy times, hell seemed to have become quite unnecessary.
On a certain day Nemi appeared to be most anxious to know which was the
most excellent practice, the bestowing of alms, or the observance of the
precepts. The great Thagia came down from his glorious seat, encompassed
with an incomparably shining brightness, and went to the place where the
prince was busy revolving this thought in his mind. The angelical visitor
told him that the bestowing of alms could only procure an admittance into
the seats of Nats, but that a perfect compliance with the ordinances
of the law opened the way to the seats of Brahmas. As soon as he had
given his decision, he returned to his blissful seat. On his arrival
he found crowds of Nats given up to rejoicings. The Thagia gave them a
detailed narrative of all that he had seen on earth during his errand,
and in particular eulogised at great length the religious dispositions
of Prince Nemi. Enraptured with the heart-moving description they heard,
all the Nats at once exclaimed that they wished to see in their seats
so accomplished and virtuous a prince. The Thagia commanded a young
Nat, named Matali, to have his carriage ready, depart for the country
of Mitila, and bring to this fortunate seat the ruler of that country.
Matali, bowing before the Thagia, forthwith left the seat of Nats in a
magnificent chariot. It was then the day of the full moon, when all the
inhabitants of Mitila were busily engaged in discharging their prescribed
religious duties. On a sudden there appeared, issuing from the east, the
magnificent and bright equipage of the Nat, splendidly emerging from the
bosom of clouds at the same time as the moon in its full. Surprised at
such an unexpected sight, all wondered, and believed that two moons were
miraculously rising on that occasion. They were soon undeceived by the
nearer approach of Matali’s carriage. The messenger went to the king, and
conveyed to him the intelligence that the Nats were exceedingly anxious
to see him. Without a moment’s hesitation the king stepped into the
carriage, and abandoned himself to the guidance of his heavenly guide.
“Two roads are now opened before us,” said Matali, “the one through the
dismal dungeons, where the wicked are consigned to undergo punishment for
their offences, and the other through the blissful seats, where the good
are enjoying the rewards allotted to them for their virtues. Which of the
two do you wish to follow?” The prince said that he wished to visit both
places. Matali answered in a mild tone of voice that his request should
be complied with.
The celestial guide directed his rapid course through the regions of
desolation, where dwells an eternal horror. The first object they met
with was a broad and deep river, filled with frightful whirlpools, where
the water seemed as if boiling. It was glowing like a flame, and the
whole mass of water appeared like a lake of fire. The river is called
Wattoorani. On the banks of that river stand the infernal ministers,
armed with all sorts of sharp-edged instruments, cutting, wounding,
piercing the unfortunate wretches, who try to get out of that horrible
and burning water. They are forcibly pushed again into the same place of
torments, and tumble over pointed darts, whence they are taken up and
roasted on living coals. Nothing is heard but the horrifying howlings
and yells of those unfortunate beings, who are waiting with the greatest
impatience the moment of their deliverance. “What are the crimes,” asked
the terrified prince, “that have committed the unfortunate inhabitants of
this place to undergo such unheard-of sufferings?” “They are,” replied
Matali, “the persecutors of the weak, the heartless oppressors of the
poor, &c., who are doomed to undergo such punishments.” Thence the guide
drove rapidly to another place, where dogs, each with five hideous
heads, famished eagles, and devouring crows, fed with a ravenous hunger
on the bodies of unfortunate victims, the flesh of which is incessantly
reproduced to afford a continual prey to these never-satiated ferocious
animals. “These,” said Matali, “suffer for having done no good to their
fellow-creatures, for preventing others to do some, and for having borne
envy to their neighbours.”
Here follows a long description of the other places of hell, given to
Nemi by his celestial guide. We omit it, lest its tedious and revolting
particulars tire and disgust the reader. Suffice it to mention that the
torments of Tantalus are described here with a horrifying correctness,
such as almost casts into the shade the description given to us by the
Latin poet.
Having ranged the various regions of hell, and heard all the particulars
given to him by Matali, Nemi was suddenly brought over to the beautiful,
smiling, and blissful seats of the blessed. He soon descried at a
distance the celebrated palace, made of diamonds, disposed in an immense
square of twelve youdzanas on each side, and five stories high; then the
garden, the tank, and the padetha tree. In that palace Biranee occupied a
splendid apartment; she was then lying on a soft sofa, surrounded by more
than a thousand beauties. “What good works,” asked Nemi, “has Biranee
practised, to deserve such a magnificent reward?” Matali replied, “This
daughter of Nats was formerly a slave in the house of a pounha. She
was always very attentive to all the duties of her position, and at the
same time regularly observed the precepts of the law. On a certain day
her mistress, who was wont to feed eight Rahans daily, fell into a fit
of anger, and said that she was unable to bear any longer the fatigue
attending the maintenance of these religious. But the young slave, full
of religious zeal, took upon herself the labour of feeding the Rahans.
For this good and meritorious work she is enjoying the happiness of her
present position.”
Nemi was successively led into the various seats of the inhabitants of
those blissful regions, and his guide explained at great length the good
works that had procured to each of them the respective happy situation
which they enjoyed, and occasionally mentioned the period of time they
were allowed to dwell in those abodes of unparalleled happiness. He
was finally introduced to the presence of the great Thagia, who is the
chief of all Nats. Having finished the survey of all the seats of Nats,
Nemi was brought back to the seat of men in his own capital by the same
celestial guide.
On his return Nemi saw himself surrounded by his pious subjects, who
eagerly inquired of him all the particulars respecting his journey. He
minutely explained to them all that he had seen both in the region of
hell and in those of Nats, and concluded by exhorting his people to be
liberal in bestowing alms, that they might hereafter be admitted to share
in the enjoyment of the Nats’ happiness.
Nemi, perceiving that his hairs were turning grey, became still more
zealous in the practice of alms-deeds, and resolved to embrace the
profession of Rahans. But previous to his taking such a step he had his
son Ralaradzana appointed to succeed him. With that prince terminated the
long succession of kings who in the decline of their lives became Rahans.
_DZANECKA._
This is one of the best written Dzats possessed by the Burmese. The
writer has translated it from beginning to end; but he will give here
only an outline of its contents. The narrator, as usual, is our Buddha
himself, when he was in the Weloowon monastery, surrounded by the members
of the assembly and a crowd of hearers.
In the country of Mitila there reigned a king named Dzanecka, who had
two sons called Arita Dzanecka and Paula Dzanecka. After a long and
prosperous reign he passed to another existence. Arita Dzanecka, having
celebrated his father’s obsequies and made the usual purifications,
ascended the throne. He confirmed his younger brother in the situation of
commander-in-chief, which he had hitherto held.
On a certain day a vile courtier, by a false report, awakened in the
king’s breast sentiments of jealousy and suspicion against his brother’s
fidelity. The innocent prince was cast into a dungeon; but in the virtue
of his innocence he found means to make his escape, went to a part of the
country where he had powerful supporters, and soon found himself in a
condition to bid defiance to his brother. The king assembled his troops;
a battle ensued, in which the king was slain, and Paul Dzanecka ascended
the throne.
The queen, who was with child, on hearing the news of such a disaster,
went to the treasury, took some ornaments of the purest gold and the most
valuable precious stones, and placed the whole in a basket. She then
spread out rice so as to cover the treasure, and extended an old and
dirty cloth over the opening of the basket. Putting on the dress of one
of the meanest women, she went out of the town, carrying the basket over
her head. She left the city through the southern gate and passed into the
country without being noticed by the guards.
Having gone to a certain distance from the place, the queen did not know
which way to direct her steps. She sat in a dzeat during the heat of the
day. Whilst in the dzeat she thought of the country of Tsampa, where some
of her relatives lived, and resolved to go thither. She began to make
inquiries at the people that were passing by respecting the route she
would have to follow.
During this time the attention of a Nat was suddenly attracted by the
inspiration of Phralaong, who was in the queen’s womb, to the sad
position his mother was in. He, leaving forthwith his blissful seat,
assumed the appearance of an old man guiding a carriage along the road.
He came close to the dzeat and invited the queen to ascend his carriage,
assuring her that he would convey her safely to Tsampa. The offer
was accepted. As the queen was far advanced with child, she had some
difficulty in getting into the conveyance, when that portion of the earth
which she was standing upon suddenly swelled and rose to the level of the
carriage. The queen stepped into the chariot and they departed. During
the night they arrived at a beautiful place close to the neighbourhood of
Tsampa. The queen alighted in a dzeat. Her celestial guide bade her to
wait until daybreak before she ventured into the city, and returned to
the seat of Tawadeintha.
During that very night a famous pounha, attended by five hundred of his
disciples, had left the town at a late hour, to take a walk by moonlight
and enjoy the cool of the night and a bath in the river. Pamaouka, for
such is the name of the pounha, came by chance to the very place where
the queen was seated. His disciples continued their walk and went on
the bank of the river. She appeared full of youth and beauty. But by
the virtue of Phralaong the pounha knew that she was in the family way,
and that the child she bore was a Phralaong. Pamaouka alone approached
close to the queen and entreated her to entertain no fear whatever;
that he looked upon her as his sister. The queen related to him all the
particulars of her misfortune. The great pounha, moved with compassion,
resolved to become her supporter and protector. At the same time he
recommended her to say that he was her brother, and when his disciples
should come back, to shed tears in token of the tender emotion she felt
at meeting with him. Everything having been arranged, Pamaouka called
his disciples, told them how happy he was at having found his sister,
from whom he had parted many years ago. Meanwhile he directed them to
take her to his house, and recommended her to the special care of his
wife. As for him, he would be back soon after having performed the usual
ablutions. The queen was welcome in the pounha’s house, and treated with
the greatest care and tenderest affection. A little while after she was
delivered of a beautiful child, resembling a statue of gold. They gave
him the name of Dzanecka.
Having reached the years of boyhood, he was one day playing with boys
of his own age, when, by way of teazing, they called him the son of
the widow. These keen tauntings made him urge his mother to reveal to
him the name of his father. It was then that he knew the author of his
birth. Pamaouka taught him all the sciences known in those days, such as
medicine, mathematics, &c. At the age of sixteen years young Dzanecka had
completed all his studies.
Dzanecka resolved to devote himself to trade, and acquire thereby ample
means to reconquer one day the throne of his ancestors. With a part of
the treasure his mother had brought with her, he was in a position to fit
out a ship in company with several other merchants. He resolved to sail
for a place called Caumawatoura. He had scarcely been at sea two days
when a mighty storm came on. The vessel, after having held out some time
against the roaring and raging billows, at last gave way, and was broken
in pieces. All the crew and passengers, amounting to 700, miserably
perished in the sea, without making the least effort to save themselves.
Our Phralaong, on the contrary, seizing the extremity of a log of wood,
swam with all his strength, resolved to struggle to the last against
adversity. Mighty were his efforts for several days. At last a daughter
of Nats, whose duty it was to watch over the sea, saw his generous and
courageous behaviour, took pity on him, and came to his assistance.
There followed a sort of dialogue between her and Dzanecka. The latter
displayed his undaunted courage and firm purpose. The former admired
the more his determined resolution. She resolved to save him from the
dangerous position. Taking him in her arms, she carried him, according to
his wishes, to the country of Mitila, in the garden of mango-trees, and
placed him on the very table-stone where his ancestors were wont to enjoy
themselves with a numerous retinue. Phralaong immediately fell asleep.
The daughter of Nats, having enjoined the Nat, guardian of the place, to
watch over the prince, returned to her blissful seat.
On the very day that the vessel was wrecked the ruler of Mitila died,
leaving one daughter, named Thiwalee. Previous to his giving up the ghost
and ascending to the seats of Nats, the king had ordered his ministers
into his presence, and enjoined on them to select for the husband of his
daughter a man remarkable for the beauty and strength of his body, as
well as by the acuteness and penetration of his mind. He was to be able
to bend and unbend an enormous bow, a feat which the united efforts of
a thousand soldiers could scarcely achieve, and find the place where he
had concealed sixteen golden cups. On the seventh day after his death,
the ministers and pounhas began to deliberate among themselves about the
choice of a match worthy of the princess. Several competitors offered
themselves for the hand of Thiwalee, but they were all rejected. At last,
not knowing what to do, they resolved to leave to chance the solution
of the difficulty. They sent out a charmed chariot, convinced that by
the virtue inherent in it they would find out the fortunate man whose
destinies were to be united to those of the princess. The chariot was
sent out attended by soldiers, musicians, pounhas, and noblemen. It
came straight forward to the mango-trees garden, and stopped by the
side of the table-stone Phralaong was sleeping upon. The pounhas, on
inspecting the hands and feet of the stranger, saw unmistakable signs
foreshowing his elevation to the royal dignity. They awakened him by the
sound of musical instruments, saluted him king, and begged of him to put
on the royal dress, mount on the chariot, and proceed triumphantly to
the royal city. He entered the palace through the eastern gate. Having
been informed of the king’s last intentions, he forthwith bent and
unbent the bow, found out the sixteen golden cups, and was duly united
to the beautiful and youthful Thiwalee. All the people showed signs of
the greatest rejoicings; the rich made him all sorts of offerings; the
pounhas in white costume, holding the sacred white shell, adorned with
flowers and filled with water, with their bodies bent forward, poured
respectfully the water, imploring blessings on the new monarch.
When the rejoicings were over, the king rewarded the pounha Pamaouka, who
had been as a father to him during his exile. He applied himself to do as
much good as he could in relieving the poor, and promoting the welfare
of all. He delighted in mentioning to his courtiers his misfortune, and
the great efforts he had made to extricate himself from difficulties. He
praised the reward which attended generous efforts, and exhorted them
never to flinch under difficulties, but always to exhibit a strong and
unconquerable resolution under all trials, because it must sooner or
later be crowned with success.
During the 7000 years that he reigned over Mitila with the queen
Thiwalee, he faithfully practised the observances of the law, governed
justly, fed the Rahans and Pitzega-buddhas, and gave abundant alms to the
poor.
On the 10th month Thiwalee was delivered of a son, whom they called
Digaout. On a certain day, the king, having received from his gardener
some mangoes full of flavour and beauty, wished to go to the garden to
see the tree that yielded such delicious fruits. When he arrived at the
place, he saw two mango-trees, one with a luxuriant foliage, but without
fruits, the other loaded with fruits. The monarch approached the tree,
riding his elephant, and plucked some mangoes, which he ate and found
delicious. Thence he proceeded further to inspect the other parts of the
extensive garden. The courtiers and the people that followed plucked
fruits from the same tree, and did it with such eagerness that they left
neither fruits nor leaves on the tree.
On his return the king was surprised to see the fruitful tree destitute
of both leaves and fruits, whilst the barren one had a beautiful
appearance. The monarch, after a lengthened dialogue with his courtiers,
concluded as follows: “The riches of this world are never without
enemies; he who possesses them resembles the fruitful mango-tree. We
must look out for goods that excite neither envy, jealousy, nor other
passions. The Rahans and Pitzega-buddhas alone possess such riches. I
will take a lesson from the barren mango-tree. That I may cut off and
eradicate the troubles, vexations, and anxieties of life, I will renounce
everything and embrace the profession of Rahan.”
With this idea strongly impressed on his mind, Dzanecka came back to his
palace. He forthwith sent for the general of his troops, and directed
him to place a strong guard in front of his apartment, and allow no one
for four consecutive months to come into his presence, not even the
queen, but only him who would bring his daily meal. He gave orders to
his ministers to judge with impartiality, agreeably to the law. Having
thus arranged everything, he withdrew alone to the upper apartment of his
palace. Here follows a stanza in praise of the prince, who had separated
from his queen, concubines, and all the pleasures and honours attending
royalty.
Dzanecka alone began to meditate on the happiness of the life of
pounhas and Pitzega-buddhas; he admired their poor diet, their zeal in
practising the observances of the law, their earnest longings after the
happiness of Neibban, their disengagement from the ties of passions,
the state of inward peace and fixity which their souls enjoyed. In
his enthusiasm he venerated them with a holy fervour, called them his
masters and preceptors, and exclaimed: “Who will teach me to imitate
their lives, and help me to become similar to them?” In ten stanzas
Dzanecka reviews successively all that had belonged to him, his capital
with its stately edifices, fine gates, the three walls and ditches, the
beautiful and fertile country of Wintzearitz, the palace with its lofty
domes and massive towers, the beautifully ornamented throne, the rich
and magnificent royal dresses, the royal garden and tank, the elephants,
horses, and chariots, the soldiers, the pounhas, the princes, his queen
and concubines. He then concludes each stanza with the following words:
“When shall I leave all these things, become poor, put on the humble
habit of Rahans, and follow the same mode of a perfectly retired life?”
With these and similar reflections Dzanecka endeavoured to sunder one
after the other many threads of passions, to pull down successively the
branches of the impure tree, until he could give a final stroke to the
roots.
At the conclusion of four months’ retirement, Dzanecka sent for a
faithful servant, and directed him to procure for him the various
articles of the dress of a Rahan. He had his head and beard shaved; put
on the cherished habit, and placing a staff in his hand walked out of his
apartments, and directed his course towards the gate, with the dignified
deportment of a Rahan of sixty years’ profession.
Queen Thiwalee was tired of having been so long deprived of her husband’s
company. She summoned seven hundred of the handsomest damsels of the
palace to go with her to the king, and by the efforts of their united
charms entrap him in the net of passion and prevail upon him to come
back to their society. When they ascended the stair-case, they met with
Dzanecka in his new attire. None recognised him; but all paid him due
reverence as some holy personage that had come to give instructions to
the king. Having reached the apartment and seen the royal dress set
aside, and the beautiful and long black hairs laid on one of the sofas,
the queen and her attendants soon understood the sad and heart-rending
intimation which these objects were designed to convey. She ran in all
haste with all her retinue down the stairs and overtook the new Rahan at
the moment he was crossing the outer gate of the palace. Every means that
could be devised to make impression on the king’s heart were resorted
to by the queen and the damsels, in order to prevail upon him to forego
his resolution. Tears, cries, wailings, striking of the breast, display
of the most graceful and seducing forms, supplications, entreaties, were
all used in vain; the new Rahan, unmoved and firm, continued his course,
protesting that passions and concupiscence were dead in him, and that
what could be said or done to engage him to change his resolution was
in vain. During his progress towards the solitude of Himawonta, he was
comforted and encouraged by the advice and instruction of two Rathees,
who from their solitude flew through the air to witness the beautiful
struggle between passions and virtue, and help him not to flinch before
the repeated obstacles the queen put in his way, to retard, impede,
and prevent the execution of his holy design. The names of these two
instructors were Narada and Migalzein; they were clothed in the skins
of panthers. They instructed him in the duties of his new calling, and
exhorted him to root out of his heart with perseverance all passions, and
in particular concupiscence and pride.
Comforted with such timely instructions, the new Rahan felt himself more
than ever fixed in his resolution. On his way to the solitude, Dzanecka
arrived one evening at the gates of a town called Daunu. He passed the
night under a tree, at a distance from the queen and the crowd that
followed her. On the morning he entered the town, and went, as usual,
along the streets to beg his food. He happened to stop for a while at the
shop of a man that was fabricating arrows. Dzanecka, seeing the workman
shutting one eye and looking with the other to see if the shaft of the
arrow was straight, asked him the reason of his doing so, as he would see
better with both eyes than with one. The workman told him that it was not
always good that each object in this world should have a match. “Should
I,” said he, “look on this shaft with both eyes, my sight, distracted
by several objects, could not perceive the defects of the wood, &c.,
but by looking on it with only one eye the least irregularity is easily
detected. When we have a work to perform, if there be two opposite wills
in us, it cannot be regularly made. You have put on the habit of Rahan;
you have apparently renounced the world; how is it that you are followed
by such a large retinue of women and other attendants? It is impossible
to attend well to the duties of your profession, and at the same time
keep such a company.” This cutting remark made a deep impression on
Dzanecka. He had gone over a little distance, when he met a number of
little girls playing together. One of them had a silver bangle on each
hand, with one of gold on the right hand. When she agitated the right
hand, the two bangles hitting each other produced a sound. Dzanecka,
willing to try the wit of the little creature, asked her the reason why
the movement of one hand produced a sound, whilst that of the other did
not. She replied, “My left hand, that has but one bangle, is the image
of the Rahans who ought to be alone. In this world, when an object has
its match, some collision and noise inevitably result. How is it that
you, who have put on the habit of Rahan, allow yourself to be followed by
that woman who is still full of freshness and beauty? Is she your wife or
sister? Should she be only your sister, it is not good that she should be
with you. It is dangerous for Rahans to keep the company of women.”
This sharp lecture, from the mouth of a little girl, produced a deep
impression on our Rahan. He left the city. A large forest was in the
vicinity: he resolved to part company with the queen at once. At the
entrance he stopped awhile, and paused for a moment. There, on a sudden,
stretching his arm, he broke the small branch of a tree, and showing it
to Thiwalee he said, “Princess, you see this small branch; it can never
be reunited to the stem it has been taken from. In like manner, it is
impossible that I should ever go back with you.” On hearing the fatal
words the queen fainted. All her attendants crowded round her, to afford
her some relief. Dzanecka himself, in the tumult and confusion that
was going on, stole away with rapidity and disappeared in the forest.
The queen was then carried back to Daunu by her attendants, whence
they all returned to Mitila. Alone in the solitude, Phralaong enjoyed
the sweets of perfect contemplation during a period of three thousand
years. Thiwalee, on her part, resolved to renounce the world and follow
the example of her husband. She became a Rahaness, in one of the royal
gardens, during the same period of years, and subsequently migrated to
one of the seats of Brahmas, called Brahma-parithitsa.
At the conclusion of the narrative Buddha added: “Mani-megala, the
daughter of Nats, who saved me in the midst of the sea, is now my beloved
fair disciple of the left, Oopalawon. The little girl who gave me such a
wholesome instruction, at the gate of the town of Daunu, is now Kema, my
fair disciple of the right. The Rathee Narada has since become my great
disciple Thariputra, whose wisdom is second only to my own. The other
Rathee Miga-dzein is now my disciple Maukalan, whose power for displaying
wonders yields only to mine. The arrow-maker has since become Ananda, my
faithful and dutiful attendant. Queen Thiwalee has become the Princess
Yathaudara. As to Prince Dzanecka, he is now the Phra who is before you
and addresses you, who is perfectly acquainted with all the laws and
principles, and who is the teacher of men, Nats, and Brahmas.”
REMARKS ON THE SITES AND NAMES OF THE PRINCIPAL PLACES MENTIONED IN THE
LEGEND.
The identification of the places mentioned in the course of the Life of
Gaudama is certainly a great desideratum. This difficult and laborious
task has been boldly undertaken by several government servants of both
services. Great and important successes have attended their efforts. One
of the most successful among them has been Major-General Cunningham,
the archæological surveyor to the government of India. The sphere of
his laborious and scientific researches has extended over north and
south Behar, the cradle of Buddhism, and some parts of the Punjaub and
Peshawar. Under his direction excavations have been made, inscriptions
found and deciphered, the nature and dimensions of old ruined monuments
correctly ascertained. In his valuable reports may be found important
elements for reconstructing the history and geography of ancient India.
He has been greatly assisted by the history of the voyages of the Chinese
pilgrim, Hwen Thsang, who spent sixteen years in travelling throughout
India, and visiting all the places rendered famous by the actions
connected with the life of Buddha, and the spread of his doctrines and
institutions. The voyage began in 629 and ended in 645 of the Christian
era. The itinerary begins with the starting of the traveller from a city
on the banks of the Hoang-ho. He shaped his course through the centre of
Tartary, entered by the northern extremity of the plateau of Panin into
what is called now Independent Tartary, visited Samarcand, where there
were no Buddhists, but only fire worshippers. Thence he passed over to
Balk, where he found religion in a flourishing condition. He ascended
the mighty Hindu Kush mountains, penetrated into Cabul and Peshawar,
crossed the Indus at Attock, and turning abruptly to the north, visited
Oudiana, where he found dzedis and monasteries on the grandest and most
magnificent scale, and came back to Attock, following the western bank of
the Indus. He then proceeded through the Punjaub to Mathura, and minutely
examined all the Buddhistic monuments to be found in the territories
situated between the Ganges, the Gunduck, and Nepaul. He went to Benares,
Pataliputra, and all the places in Magatha, or south Behar, where his
religious curiosity could be satisfied. Thence he shaped his course in an
eastern direction, and visited the whole of Bengal. He passed to Orissa,
visited many places in Central India and a portion of the Upper Deccan.
He went to Molwa and Guzerat, returned to Magatha, and began his homeward
voyage. He recrossed the Indus at Attock, followed up the valley of the
Cabul river, and with unheard-of difficulties and dangers passed over the
Hindu Kush range. His route across Chinese Tartary led him back through
Kashgar, Yarkand, and Khotan, to his native place.
It is a matter of surprise to see how acute in his observations, correct
in his descriptions, and exact in his measurements, our pilgrim has been.
With his book in hand, the above-named eminent archæologist was enabled,
in many instances, to identify at once mere mounds of ruins, and satisfy
himself that they were the remnants of the monuments described by our
pilgrim. When he entertained any doubts in his mind, he had recourse to
excavations, which, in most instances, demonstrated the perfect accuracy
of Hwen Thsang.
Nearly two hundred years previous to the voyage of Hwen Thsang, another
Chinese pilgrim named Fa-hian had undertaken a similar journey. Impelled
by a purely religious zeal, he came to India for the sole purpose of
visiting the places rendered famous and venerable by the birth, life,
doings, and death of Foe, the same personage who is known in these parts
under the name Buddha Gaudama. His object was also to make a complete
collection of all the religious books acknowledged as genuine in India,
and carry them with him to China. The errand of Hwen Thsang had a similar
object.
Our worthy traveller, according to his account, passed through Southern
Thibet, Little Tartary, and visited successively Cabul, Cashmere,
Candahar, and the Punjaub. Following a nearly south-eastern direction,
he reached Mathura on the Upper Jumna, crossed the Ganges at Kanouj,
at the confluence of the Kali with that river, travelled almost in an
eastern direction through Oude, and crossed the Gogra near the Fyzabad.
Keeping close to the eastern bank of that stream, he struck in a slightly
northern direction, passing the Rapti south of Goruckpore, and followed
the same course, nearly to the western bank of the Gunduck. From thence
he shaped his course in a south-easterly direction, parallel to the
course of that river, which he crossed a little higher up the place
where it empties into the Ganges. Following then a southern direction,
he crossed the Ganges near the place where the city of Patna is now.
From thence our pilgrim travelled in a south-easterly direction, crossed
successively the Morhar and the Fulgo, examined all the places in the
neighbourhood, south and south-west of Behar, which are so celebrated
in Buddhistic annals. After having spent three years in India, busy
in mastering the Pali language and collecting copies of the religious
works, he then embarked on the Ganges. Near its mouth he went on board
of a ship bound to Ceylon. After having visited that celebrated island,
Fa-hian sailed in the direction of the Malayan Archipelago, called at
Java, and safely arrived at his country, after having performed one
of the most extraordinary and difficult journeys any man could have
undertaken in those ancient times. It was in the beginning of the fifth
century that this feat was performed in the space of more than seven
years. He spent three years in India, and two at Ceylon.
The Chinese original of Fa-Hian has been translated into French by A.
Remusat. The English version from the French is accompanied by the
annotations of Remusat and those of other celebrated Orientalists. The
book of Hwen Thsang has been translated by M. Julien. For the loan of
these two works the writer is indebted to the ever-obliging kindness
of the worthy and learned Chief Commissioner of British Burma, Col. A.
P. Phayre. From these works we have extracted the above and following
particulars.
1. The name given by northern Buddhists to Buddha is Thakiamuni, which
means the religious of the Thakia family. He belonged to the Kshatria, or
the warriors’ caste. The name Gaudama, according to the opinion of the
late E. Burnouf, is the name of the religious instructor of his family,
which members of families of that caste often adopted. This instructor
might have been a descendant of the celebrated philosopher Gotama,
mentioned in certain writings, but distinct from our Buddha.
2. Kapila, or Kapilawot, the birthplace of Buddha, was situated on the
left bank of the Gogra, straight north of Benares.
It was a heap of ruins when Fa-Hian visited it, and the country almost a
desert. Some are of opinion that it was situated near the mountains that
separate Nepaul from Goruckpore, on the river Rohini, a mountain stream,
feeder of the Rapti. But this assertion has very few supporters, and
appears improbable.
3. The river Anauma cannot be the Amanat in Behar, south of Patna.
It is probably one of the feeders of the Gogra, and to be met with
half-way between Kapila and Radzagio, the site of which city, as will be
subsequently seen, lies close to modern Behar. The legend bears out this
supposition. Buddha travelled thirty youdzanas from Kapila to the river
Anauma, thence thirty to Radzagio. The youdzana of those times in Magatha
is supposed to have been equal probably to seven miles.
4. Oorouwela was one of the mountains famous for the number of the
hermits that withdrew thither for the purpose of meditation. It is not
far from Gaya Buddha.
5. The river Neritzara, in Mongol, Nirandzara, is a considerable stream
flowing from the south-west. It unites with the Monah and forms the Fulgo.
6. Baranathee is beyond doubt the famous city of Benares. The Burmans
call it by name of Baranathee, or rather Varanasi. The town is so named
from its situation between the small river Varana and the Asi, a mere
brook. The solitude of Migadawon, whither Buddha went to preach the
law to the five Rahans that had served him during the six years of
mortification which he spent in the forest of Oorouwela, lies in its
vicinity. Benares is famous in the Buddhistic annals, because in its
neighbourhood the law of the wheel, or rather the super-excellent law
of the four sublime truths, was announced for the first time. Migadawon
means the deer-forest. It lies three and a half miles from Benares in
a northern direction. It is said that, after having travelled nine
miles from the Bodi tree, Buddha had to go over a distance of eighteen
youdzanas ere he reached Benares, making a total of about 120 miles.
7. Radzagio, or Radzagihra, was the capital of Magatha or South Behar.
Its situation is well ascertained. Its ruins have been minutely described
by several travellers. It was situated on the left bank of the same
small river as Behar, but a few miles south of that place. The mountains
or peaks surrounding that ancient city are full of caves, tenanted in
former ages by Buddhist ascetics. The mountain Gayathitha, where Buddha
preached his famous sermon, lies in the neighbourhood. It is perhaps the
same as the Gridrakuta, or the Vulture’s Peak.
8. The Buddhist annals often mention the country of the middle or
Mitzima-desa. It comprised the countries of Mathura, Kosala, Kapila,
Wethalee, and Magatha; that is to say, the provinces of Agra, Delhi,
Oude, and South Behar.
Magatha, south of the Ganges, had for capital at first Radzagio, until
Kalathoka, a hundred years after the death of Gaudama, transferred the
seat of his empire to Pataliputra, or Palibothra. The celebrated Weloowon
monastery was situated in the neighbourhood of Radzagio, and was offered
to Buddha by King Pimpathara, the ruler of that country.
9. Kosala is the same as the kingdom of Ayodya, now called Oude.
Thawattie, or Crawastu, was the capital of a district of that country. It
was situated nearly at the same place where at present stands the modern
town of Fyzabad. According to the legend, the distance from Radzagio to
Thawattie is forty-five youdzanas of about seven miles. Twelve hundred
paces from that city was to be met the renowned monastery of Dzetawon,
or the grove of the victorious. Many ruins that have been visited and
examined leave no doubt regarding the certain position of Thawattie.
10. Thing-ka-tha, or Tsam-pa-tha, lies in an eastern direction between
Mathura and Kanouj, near the site occupied by the town of Ferruckabad.
Captain A. Cunningham has met with the ruins of that place in the
village of Samkassa, on the left bank of the Kalinadi, twelve cos from
Ferrukabad. According to a popular tradition, it was destroyed in 1183 by
the King of Kanouj, at the instigation of the Brahmins, who endeavoured
by every means in their power to sweep all the remnants of Buddhism from
those parts of the peninsula. It was in that place that Buddha arrived
on his return from the seats of Nats, whither he had gone to preach the
law to his mother. According to the legend, the distance from Thawattie
to Thing-ka-tha is thirty youdzanas in a westerly direction. Fa-Hian says
that he saw in one of the temples of that place the ladder Buddha had
used when he came down from the seats of Nats.
11. The village of Patali is the very place where was subsequently
established the renowned city of Palibothra, capital of Magatha.
The place had reached the height of its glory when Megasthenes, the
ambassador of Seleucus, visited it in the reign of Chandragupta. In the
time of Buddha it was but an insignificant place. There was, however,
a sort of fort to arrest the inroads of some troublesome neighbours.
Buddha, when he passed through that place, predicted that it would become
a flourishing town. The prediction began to have its accomplishment one
hundred years after his death, when King Kalathoka left Radzagio, and
removed the seat of his empire to Palibothra near the place where the
modern city of Patna stands.
12. The town of Wethalie is supposed to have stood north of Patna on
the Gunduck, not far from the place where that river joins the Ganges.
The large village of Besarh, twenty miles north of Hajipur, occupies a
portion of the place on which stood Wethalie. In the seventh century
Buddhism was there on its decline; false doctrines, as says one of the
Chinese pilgrims, were much prevailing. Nothing was to be seen at that
time but a ruined town and many monasteries, almost deserted, and also
falling into decay. Many signs of ancient ruins are also to be met
with between Besarh and Bakra; they belong to the same city, which was
both populous and wealthy. Its circumference was about twelve miles,
including the two modern places of Bakra and Besarh. All the mounds of
ruins have been carefully searched and described by A. Cunningham, and
the sites of ancient tanks exactly laid down. There is a curious episode
in the legend connected with the name of Wethalie. A courtesan, who,
despite her dishonourable calling, occupied a brilliant position in the
country, courted the favour of feeding Buddha with all his followers.
The latter accepted her invitation, and received a beautiful grove,
which she presented to him and to the assembly. It does not appear that
her avocation was looked upon as a disgraceful one. It is probable that
persons of this description were as much for the intellectual as for the
sensual enjoyments of their visitors. There existed in Greece and at Rome
something similar to what is here alluded to. According to Plutarch,
Aspasia at Athens was courted by Pericles on account of her high literary
attainments and political abilities. Socrates visited her sometimes in
company with his disciples. Visitors took occasionally their wives to
her place, for the purpose of enjoying the charms of her highly refined
and instructive conversation. The same philosophical biographer does not
scruple to quote sometimes the sayings of the celebrated Roman courtesan,
named Flora.
13. Nala or Nalanda was a Brahmin village about seven miles north of
Radzagio. It was the birthplace of the great disciple Thariputra. It
seems that there was there a sort of Academia, whither the learned of
Radzagio resorted to discourse on moral and philosophical subjects. The
magnificent ruins, which subsist up to this day in that locality, have
been minutely examined, measured, and described by several visitors. The
great temple must, in the opinion of A. Cunningham, have been built in
the sixth century of our era.
14. Kootheinaron is the place in the neighbourhood of which Buddha
entered into the state of Neibban, or died. Some antiquarians, laying
much stress on the name of a village up to this day called Kushia, have
placed the position of Kootheinaron on the road between Betiah and
Goruckpore. On that spot is to be seen a pyramidical-looking mound of
bricks, over which spreads a large banyan tree. But, from the narrative
of the legend, we must look for the site of Kootheinaron nearer to the
river Higniarati or Gunduck, since the spot where Gaudama died was near
to the city, and is described as surrounded on three sides by the river.
Kootheinaron was situated a little north or north-west of Betiah, on or
near the banks of the Gunduck. There too ruins are to be seen, which
doubtless will prove to be those of Kootheinaron. The name may have
subsequently migrated to the locality above mentioned.
15. Papilawana, the capital of the Mauria princes, was situated between
the Rapti and the Gunduck, nearly east of Goruckpore. South of that place
Fa-Hian visited the dzedi of the coals. The Mauria princes, agreeably to
the text of the legend, having come too late for sharing in the partition
of the relics, took with them the coals that remained after the cremation
of Buddha’s remains, carried them into their country, and built a dzedi
over them. It was not far from that place that the Brahmin Dauna built
another dzedi over the vessel that had contained Buddha’s relics.
16. The village of Rama is the same as the Ramaganio of the Cingalese
collection. The two Chinese pilgrims in their relations call that place
Lan-mo. Can it be that the modern Ramnagar is indicative of the ancient
Ramaganio? At all events we would not be far from the truth if we place
it between the Gogra and the Rapti, but nearer to the latter, almost due
west of Goruckpore.
17. The Pawa town is supposed by A. Cunningham to have occupied the
same site as the large village of Padarawana, twelve miles to the west
of the river Gunduck, and forty miles north-north-east of Goruckpore. A
large mound of more than 200 feet in length by 120 in breadth exists in
that locality. From the excavations made on the place, it is supposed
that there was a courtyard, with cells for monks, on each side, the
centre being, as was often the case, occupied by a dzedi. The people of
Pawa obtained one-eighth of the relics, after the cremation of Buddha’s
remains, and built one dzedi over them.
18. Kapilawot, or Kapilawastu, was situated between Fyzabad and
Goruckpore, but a little nearer to the latter place. It was on or near
the banks of the Gogra. The small river Rohini formed the boundary
between the territory of Kapilawot and that of Kaulia.
19. Gaya and Buddha-Gaya are two distinct places. The first is well
known as the town of Gaya. The second lies six miles southward, and is
famous as the locality of the Pipal or Bodi tree, under which Gaudama
obtained the Buddhahood. A tree of the same description is still to be
seen on the same spot. The present one was in full vigour in 1811, when
Dr. Buchanan saw it. He describes it as not being more than a hundred
years old. A. Cunningham says that it is now much decayed. One large
stem with three branches on the westward side are still green; but the
other branches are barkless and rotten. Hwen Thsang, in his itinerary,
speaks of an early renewal of that tree by King Purna Varmma, after its
destruction by King Sasangka, who, with a true Brahminical and inimical
feeling, dug up the very ground on which it had stood, and moistened the
earth with sugar-cane juice, to prevent its renewal. The same eminent
archæologist describes a massive brick temple, standing east of the
Bodi tree, and with great plausibility maintains that it is the same
which has been described by the above-named Chinese pilgrim. As Fa-Hian
is silent respecting that temple, A. Cunningham concludes that it was
erected during the sixth century of the Christian era, when Buddhism,
under the favour of King Amara-sinha and some of his successors, regained
a vigorous ascendancy at least in Magatha. It is probable that all the
temples, the ruins of which have been examined at Buddha-Gaya, Nalanda,
and Behar, having a similarity in architectural plans and ornaments, were
erected during the sixth and a part of the seventh century of our era.
The inference therefrom is that Buddhism was flourishing in Magatha at
that period. Hwen Thsang, who has visited and described those monuments
in or about 625, speaks of them in the highest terms. How long lasted the
prosperous days of Buddhism in those parts? It is difficult to state with
any degree of accuracy. But it seems probable that it maintained itself
in a satisfactory condition until the beginning of the tenth century. It
had then to give way before the irresistible and triumphant ascendancy of
Brahminism.
To the south-east of the great temple is a small tank which is probably
that of the Naga, who protected Buddha during one of the several stations
that he made round the Bodi tree.
20. Anawadat is the name of a lake famous in Buddhist sacred history.
Its etymological meaning is, agreeably to some savans, exempt of tumult,
and, according to others, not brightened. This last appellation is
owing probably to the high peaks that surround it and prevent its being
brightened by the rays of the sun. This is certainly the famous and
extensive lake, which covers a portion of the high table-land of Pamir.
It has been visited and described by Lieutenant Wood. What he states
from a careful observation on the spot agrees well with what is found
in the itineraries of the Chinese travellers. From that high plateau
which embosoms the lake flows in an eastern direction one of those small
streams that form the river Ganges; whilst, in an opposite direction, the
Oxus, issuing from the western slope, shapes its course nearly towards
the west.