Urged by the merciful and compa.s.sionate dispositions of his soul, Phralaong often revolved within himself the following: "All is misery and affliction in this world; all beings are miserably detained in the vortex of existences; they float over the whirlpool of desire and concupiscence; they are carried to and fro by the fallacious cravings of a never-obtained satisfaction. They must be taught to put an end to concupiscence by freeing themselves from its influence. Their minds must be imbued with the knowledge of the four great truths. The four ways that I have discovered shall inevitably lead men and Nats to that most desirable end. These ways ought to be pointed out to them, that, by following them, men and Nats may obtain the deliverance."

Whilst these thoughts thronged through his mind, a little before break of day, in the 103rd year of the Eatzana era, on the day of the full moon of Katson, the perfect science broke at once over him: he became the Buddha.

When this great wonder took place, ten thousand worlds were shaken twelve times with such a violence as to make hairs stand on one end.

These words, "Most excellent being," were heard throughout the same series of worlds. Magnificent ornaments decorated all places. Flagstaffs appeared in every direction, adorned with splendid streamers. Of such dimensions were they that the extremities of those in the east reached the opposite side of the west; and those in the north, the southern boundary. Some flags, hanging from the seats of Brahmas, reached the surface of the earth. All the trees of ten thousand worlds shot out branches, loaded with fruits and flowers. The five sorts of lilies bloomed spontaneously. From the clefts of rocks beautiful flowers sprang out. The whole universe appeared like an immense garden, covered with flowers; a vivid light illuminated those places, the darkness of which could not be dispersed by the united rays of seven suns. The water, which fills the immensity of the deep, at a depth of eighty-four thousand youdzanas, became fresh and offered a most agreeable drink.

Rivers suspended their course; the blind recovered their sight, the deaf could hear, and the lame were able to walk freely. The captives were freed from their chains and restored to their liberty. Innumerable other wonders took place at the moment Phralaong received the supreme intelligence. He said then to himself, "Previous to my obtaining the supreme knowledge, I have, during countless generations, moved in the circle of ever-renewed existences, and borne-up misery. Now I see this distinctly. Again, I perceive how I can emanc.i.p.ate myself from the trammels of existence, and extricate myself from all miseries and wretchedness attending generation; my will is fixed on the most amiable state of Neibban. I have now arrived to that state of perfection that excludes all pa.s.sions."

It was at the full moon of the month Katson, when these memorable occurrences took place, and it was daylight when Phralaong at last obtained the fulness of the Buddhaship. After this glorious and triumphant achievement, Phralaong, whom from this moment we must call Phra or Buddha, continued to remain on the throne, in a cross-legged position, with a mind absorbed in contemplation during seven days.

Mental exertion and labour were at an end. Truth in its effulgent beauty encompa.s.sed his mind and shed over it the purest rays. Placed in that luminous centre, Phra saw all beings entangled in the web of pa.s.sions, tossed over the raging billows of the sea of renewed existences, whirling in the vortex of endless miseries, tormented incessantly and wounded to the quick by the sting of concupiscence, sunk into the dark abyss of ignorance, the wretched victims of an illusory, unsubstantial, and unreal world. He said then to himself: "In all the worlds there is no one but me who knows how to break through the web of pa.s.sions, to still the waves that waft beings from one state into another, to save them from the whirlpool of miseries, to put an end to concupiscence and break its sting, to dispel the mist of ignorance by the light of truth, to teach all intelligent beings the unreality and nonexistence of this world, and thereby lead them to the true state of Neibban." Having thus given vent to the feelings of compa.s.sion that pressed on his benevolent heart, Phra, glancing over future events, delighted in contemplating the great number of beings who would avail themselves of his preachings, and labour to free themselves from the slavery of pa.s.sions. He counted the mult.i.tudes who would enter the ways that lead to the deliverance, and would obtain the rewards to be enjoyed by those who will follow one of those ways. The Baranathee country would be favoured first of all with the preaching of the law of the wheel. He reviewed the countries where his religion would be firmly established. He saw that Maheinda, the son of king Asoka, would carry his law to Ceylon, two hundred and thirty-six years after his Neibban.

When these and other subjects were fully exhausted, the most excellent Phra came down from his throne and went to a distance of ten fathoms from the Bodi tree, in a north-east direction. There he stood, his eyes fixedly riveted on the throne, without a single wink, during seven consecutive days, given up to the most intense and undisturbed meditation. The Nats, observing this extraordinary posture, imagined that he regretted the throne he had just vacated, and that he wanted to repossess himself of it. They concluded that, such being the case, Prince Theiddat had not as yet obtained the Buddhaship. When the period of seven days was over, Buddha, who knew the innermost thoughts of the Nats, resolved to put an end to their incredulous thinking respecting his person. For that purpose, he had recourse to the display of miraculous powers.[10] He raised himself high up in the air, and, to their astonished regards, he wrought at once more than a thousand wonders, which had the immediate effect of silencing all their doubts, and convincing them that he was indeed the Buddha.

Having come down to the place which he had started from, for the display of prodigies, Buddha went to the north of the tree Bodi at a distance of only two fathoms from it. He spent this time in walking to and fro from east to west, during seven days, over a road, prepared for that purpose by the Nats. He was engaged all the while in the work of the sublimest contemplation.

He then shaped his course in a north-west direction, at a distance of thirteen fathoms from the sacred tree. There stood a beautiful house, shining like gold, resplendent with precious stones. It was a temporary residence, purposely prepared for him by the Nats. Thither he repaired, and sat down in a cross-legged position during seven days. He devoted all his time to meditating on the Abidamma, or the most excellent science. This science is divided into seven books. Phra had already gone over the six first and fully mastered their contents, but the six glories had not as yet shot forth from his person.

It was only after having mastered the contents of the last division, named Pathan, divided into twenty-four parts, that the six glories appeared. Like the great fishes that delight to sport only in the great ocean, the mind of Buddha expanded itself with indescribable eagerness, and delighted to run unrestrained through the unbounded field opened before him by the contents of that volume. Brown rays issued from his hairs, beard, and eyelids. Gold-like rays shot forth from his eyes and skin; from his flesh and blood dashed out purple beams, and from his teeth and bones escaped rays, white like the leaves of the lily; from his hands and feet emanated rays of a deep-red colour, which, falling on the surrounding objects, made them appear like so many rubies of the purest water. His forehead sent forth undulating rays, resembling those reflected by cut crystal. The objects which received those rays appeared as mirrors, reflecting the rays of the sun. Those six rays of various hues caused the earth to resemble a globe of the finest gold. Those beams at first penetrated through our globe, which is eighty-two thousand youdzanas thick, and thence illuminated the ma.s.s of water which supports our planet. It resembled a sea of gold. That body of water, though four hundred and eighty thousand youdzanas thick, could not stop the elastic projection of those rays, which went forth through a stratum of air nine hundred and sixty thousand youdzanas thick, and were lost in the vacuum. Some beams, following a vertical direction, rushed through the six seats of Nats, the sixteen of Brahmas, and the four superior ones, and thence were lost in vacuum. Other rays, following a horizontal direction, penetrated through an infinite series of worlds. The sun, the moon, the stars appeared like opaque bodies, deprived of light. The famous garden of Nats, their splendid palace, the ornaments hanging from the tree Padetha were all cast into the shade and appeared obscure, as if wrapped up in complete darkness. The body of the chief Brahma, which sends forth light through one million of systems, emitted then but the feeble and uncertain light of the glowworm at sunrise. This marvellous light, emanating from the person of Buddha, was not the result of vowing or praying; but all the const.i.tuent parts of his body became purified to such an extent by the sublime meditation of the most excellent law that they shone with a matchless brightness.

Having thus spent seven days in that place, close to the Bodi tree, he repaired to the foot of another gniaong tree, called adzapala, or the shepherds' tree, so called because, under its cooling shade, shepherds and their flocks of goats rested during the heat of the day. It was situated at the east of the Bodi, at a distance of thirty fathoms. There he sat in a cross-legged position, during seven days, enjoying the sweetness of self-recollection. It was near to that place that the vile Manh, who, since his great attack on Buddha, had never lost sight of him, but had always secretly followed him with a wicked spirit, was compelled to confess that he had not been able to discover in that Rahan anything blamable, and expressed the fear of seeing him at once pa.s.s over the boundaries of his empire. The tempter stooped in the middle of the highway, and across it drew successively sixteen lines, as he went on reflecting on sixteen different subjects. When he had thought over each of the ten great virtues, he drew, first, ten lines, saying: "The great Rahan has indeed practised to a high degree those ten virtues. I cannot presume to compare myself to him." In drawing the eleventh, he confessed that he had not, like that Rahan, the science that enabled to know the inclinations and dispositions of all beings. In drawing the twelfth, he said that he had not as yet acquired the knowledge of all that concerns the nature of the various beings. Drawing the four remaining lines, he confessed successively that he did not feel, like that Rahan, a tender compa.s.sion for the beings yet entangled in the miseries of existence, nor could he perform miracles, nor perceive everything, nor attain to the perfect and supreme knowledge of the law.

On all these subjects he avowed his decided inferiority to the great Rahan.

Whilst Manh was thus engaged with a sad heart in meditating over those rather humiliating points, he was at last found out by his three daughters, Tahna,[11] Aratee, and Raga, who had for some time been looking after him. When they saw their father with a downcast countenance, they came to him, and inquired about the motive of his deep affliction. "Beloved daughters," replied Manh, "I see this Rahan escaping from my dominion, and notwithstanding my searching examination, I have not been able to detect him in anything reprehensible. This is the only cause of my inexpressible affliction." "Dear father," replied they, "banish all sorrows from your mind, and be of a good heart; we will very soon find out the weak side of the great Rahan, and triumphantly bring him back within the hitherto unpa.s.sed limits of your empire." "Beware of the man you will have to deal with," replied Manh.

"I believe that no effort, however great, directed against him, will ever be rewarded with success. He is of a firm mind and unshaken purpose. I fear you shall never succeed in bringing him back within my dominions." "Dear father," said they, "we women know how to manage such affairs; we will catch him like a bird in the net of concupiscence; let fear and anxiety be for ever dispelled from your heart." Having given this a.s.surance, forthwith they went to Buddha, and said to him, "Ill.u.s.trious Rahan, we approach you respectfully and express the wish of staying with you, that we may minister to all your wants." Without in the least heeding their words, or even casting a glance at them, the most excellent Buddha remained unmoved, enjoying the happiness of meditation. Knowing that the same appearance, face, and bodily accomplishments might not be equally pleasing, they a.s.sumed, one the appearance of a heart-winning young girl, another that of a blooming virgin, and the third that of a fine middle-aged beauty. Having thus made their arrangements, they approached Buddha, and several times expressed to him the desire of staying with him and ministering to his wants. Unmoved by all their allurements, Buddha said to them, "For what purpose do you come to me? You might have some chance of success with those that have not as yet extinguished the fire of pa.s.sion, and rooted it from their heart; but I, like all the Buddhas, my predecessors, have destroyed in me concupiscence, pa.s.sion, and ignorance. No effort, on your part, will ever be able to bring me back into the world of pa.s.sions. I am free from all pa.s.sions, and have obtained supreme wisdom.

By what possible means could you ever succeed in bringing me back into the whirlpool of pa.s.sions?" The three daughters of Manh, covered with confusion, yet overawed with admiration and astonishment, said to each other, "Our father forsooth had given us a good and wise warning. This great Rahan deserves the praises of men and Nats. Everything in him is perfect; to him it belongs to instruct men in all things they want to know." Saying this, they, with a downcast countenance, returned to their father.

It was in that very same place, at the foot of the adzapala gniaong, that a heretic Pounha, named Mingalika, proud of his caste, came with hasty steps, speaking loudly, and with little respect approached the spot where Buddha was sitting.[12] Having entered into conversation with him, the Pounha heard from his mouth instructions worthy of being ever remembered. He said to Buddha, "Lord Gaudama, I have two questions to put to you. Whence comes the name Pounha? What are the duties to be performed in order to become a real Pounha?" Buddha, penetrating with the keen eye of wisdom into the innermost soul of his interlocutor, answered, "The real and genuine Pounha is he who has renounced all pa.s.sions, put an end to concupiscence, and has entered the ways leading to perfection. But there are others, who are proud of their origin, who walk hastily, speak with a loud voice, and who have not done what is needful to destroy the influence of pa.s.sions. These are called Pounhas because of their caste and birth. But the true sage avoids everything that is rash, impetuous or noisy: he has conquered all his pa.s.sions, and put an end to the principle of demerits. His heart loves the repet.i.tion of formulas of prayers, and delights in the exercise of meditation. He has reached the last way to perfection. In him there is no longer wavering, or doubt, or pride. This man really deserves the name of Pounha, or pure: he is indeed the true Pounha according to the law." The instruction being finished, the Pounha rose respectfully from his place, wheeled to the right and departed.

Buddha continued the sublime work of contemplating pure truth through the means of intense reflection. Having remained seven days in that position, Buddha arose in an ecstasy and went to the south-eastern side of the Bodi tree, to a distance of an oothaba (1 oothaba=to 20 tas, 1 ta=to 7 cubits), on the sixth day after the full moon of Nayon. On that spot there was a tank called Hidza-lee-dana. On the bank of that tank, he sat under the shade of the Kiin tree, in a cross-legged position during seven days, enjoying the delight of meditation. During those seven days rain fell in abundance, and it was very cold. A Naga, chief of that tank, would have made a building to protect Buddha against the inclemency of the weather, but he preferred, in order to gain greater merits, to coil himself up sevenfold round his person, and to place his head above him, with his large hood extended. When the seven days were over and the rain had ceased, the Naga quitted his position; then a.s.suming the appearance of a young man, he prostrated himself before Buddha and worshipped him. Buddha said: "He who aims at obtaining the state of Neibban ought to possess the knowledge of the four roads leading thereto, as well as that of the four great truths and of all laws. He ought to bear no anger towards other men, nor harm them in any way soever. Happy he who receives such instructions."

Buddha moved from that place, and went to the south of the Bodi tree, to a distance of forty fathoms. At the foot of the linloon tree he sat in a cross-legged position, having his mind deeply engaged in the exercise of the sublimest contemplation. In that position he spent seven entire days, which completed the forty-nine days which were to be devoted to reflection and meditation around the Bodi tree. When this period of days was over, at daybreak, on the fifth day after the full moon of Watso, he felt the want of food. This was quickly perceived by a Thagia, who hastened from his seat to the spot where Buddha was staying, and offered him some Thit khia fruits, others say Kia-dzoo fruits, to prepare his system to receive more substantial food. After he had eaten them, the same celestial attendant brought him some water to rinse his mouth, and to wash his face and hands. Buddha continued to remain in the same position under the cooling and protecting shade of the linloon tree.

To consecrate, as it were, and perpetuate the remembrance of the seven spots occupied by Buddha during the forty-nine days that he spent round the tree Bodi, a Dzedy was erected on each of those seven places. King Pathenadi Kosala surrounded them with a double wall, and subsequently King Dammathoka added two others. There were only three openings, or gates, to penetrate into the enclosed ground, one on the north, another on the east, and the third on the south. The river Neritzara rolls its deep blue waters in a south-eastern direction from the Bodi tree, to a distance of eight oothabas from it. On the eastern bank of that stream another Dzedy has been erected on the spot where, previous to his becoming a Buddha, he had eaten the forty-nine mouthfuls of the delicious Nogana offered to him by the pious Thoodzata.

Whilst Buddha was sitting in a cross-legged position under the linloon tree, two brothers named Tapoosa and Palekat, merchants by profession, arrived with five hundred carts in the Oorouwela forest, at the very place where Buddha was staying. They had sailed from their native town, called[13] Oukkalaba, which lies in a south-eastern direction from the Mitzima country, bound for the port of Adzeitta. After landing, they hired five hundred carts to carry their goods to a place called Soowama.

They were on their way to their destination when they arrived in the Oorouwela forest. Great was their surprise when they saw on a sudden all their carts unable to move, and arrested by some invisible power.

A Nat who had been formerly their relative stopped by his power the wheels of the carriages. Surprised at such a wonder, the merchants prayed to the Nat who was guardian of that place. The Nat, a.s.suming a visible shape, appeared before them and said to them: "The ill.u.s.trious Buddha who by the knowledge of the four great truths has arrived to the nature of Phra, is now sitting at the foot of the linloon tree. Go now to that place, and offer him some sweet bread and honey; you shall derive therefrom great merits for many days and nights to come." The two brothers, joyfully complying with the Nat's request, prepared the sweet bread and honey, and hastened in the direction that had been indicated to them. Having placed themselves in a suitable position and prostrated themselves before Buddha, they said: "Most glorious Phra, please to accept these offerings; great merits doubtless will be our reward for many days to come." Buddha had no patta to put those offerings in, for the one he had received from the Brahma Gatigara had disappeared when Thoodzata made him her great offerings. Whilst he was thinking on what he had to do, four Nats came and presented him each with one patta, made of nila or sapphire stone. Phra accepted the four pattas, not from motives of covetousness, but to let each Nat have an equal share in such meritorious work. He put the four pattas one in the other, and by the power of his will they on a sudden became but one patta, so that each Nat lost nothing of the merit of his offerings. Buddha received the offerings of the two merchants in that patta, and satisfied his appet.i.te. The two brothers said to Buddha: "We have on this day approached you, worshipped you, and respectfully listened to your instructions; please to consider us as your devoted followers for the remainder of our lives."[14] They obtained the position of Upathaka.

They continued addressing Buddha, and said: "What shall we henceforth worship?" Buddha, rubbing his hand over his head, gave them a few of the hairs that had adhered to his fingers, bidding them to keep carefully those relics. The two brothers, overjoyed at such a valuable present, most respectfully received it, prostrated themselves before Buddha, and departed.

FOOTNOTES

[1] The Nats or Dewatas play a conspicuous part in the affairs of this world. Their seats are in the six lower heavens, forming, with the abode of man and the four states of punishment, the eleven seats of pa.s.sions. But they often quit their respective places, and interfere with the chief events that take place among men. Hence we see them ever attentive in ministering to all the wants of the future Buddha. Besides, they are made to watch over trees, forests, villages, towns, cities, fountains, rivers, &c. These are the good and benevolent Nats.

This world is also supposed to be peopled with wicked Nats, whose nature is ever p.r.o.ne to the evil. A good deal of the worship of Buddhists consists in superst.i.tious ceremonies and offerings made for propitiating the wicked Nats, and obtaining favours and temporal advantages from the good ones. Such a worship is universal, and fully countenanced by the talapoins, though in opposition to the real doctrines of genuine Buddhism.

All kinds of misfortunes are attributed to the malignant interference of the evil Nats. In cases of severe illness that have resisted the skill of native medical art, the physician gravely tells the patient and his relatives that it is useless to have recourse any longer to medicines, but a conjuror must be sent for to drive out the malignant spirit, who is the author of the complaint. Meanwhile directions are given for the erection of a shed, where offerings intended for the inimical Nat are deposited. A female relative of the patient begins dancing to the sound of musical instruments. The dance goes on, at first in rather a quiet manner, but it gradually grows more animated until it reaches the acme of animal frenzy. At that moment the bodily strength of the dancing lady becomes exhausted; she drops on the ground in a state of apparent faintness. She is then approached by the conjuror, who asks her if the invisible foe has relinquished his hold over the diseased. Being answered in the affirmative, he bids the physician give medicines to the patient, a.s.suring him that his remedies will now act beneficially for restoring the health of the sick, since their action will meet no further opposition from the wicked Nat.

Ignorance brings everywhere superst.i.tion in its train. When man is unacquainted with the natural cause that has produced a result, or an effect, which attracts powerfully his mind's attention and affects him to a great degree, he is induced by his own weakness to believe in the agency of some unknown being, to account for the effect that he perceives. He devises the most ridiculous means for expressing his grat.i.tude to his invisible benefactor, if the result be a favourable one; and has recourse to the most extravagant measures to counteract the evil influence of his supposed enemy, if the result be fatal to him.

Having once entered into the dark way of superst.i.tion, man is hurried on in countless false directions by fear, hope, and other pa.s.sions, in the midst of the daily occurrence of multifarious and unforeseen events and circ.u.mstances. Hence the expression or manifestation of his superst.i.tion a.s.sumes a variety of forms, and undergoes changes to an extent that baffles every attempt at either counting their numberless kinds or following them up through their ever-changing course. In addition to the stores of superst.i.tions bequeathed by the generation that has preceded him, man has those of his own creation; and the latter, if the thought of his mind and the desires of his heart could be a.n.a.lysed, would be found far exceeding the former in number. Having spent many years in a country where Buddhism has prevailed from time immemorial, and observed the effects of superst.i.tion over the people in their daily doings, the writer has come to the conclusion that there is scarcely an action done without the influence of some superst.i.tious motive or consideration. But the most prolific source of superst.i.tion is the belief in the existence of countless good and evil Nats, with whom the imagination of Buddhists has peopled this world.

It can scarcely be understood how the followers of an atheistical creed can make, consistently with their opinions, an attempt at prayer. Such an act of devotion implies the belief in a being superior to men, who has a controlling power over them, and in whose hands their destinies are placed. With a believer in G.o.d, prayer is a sacred, nay, a natural duty. But such cannot be the case with atheists. Despite the withering and despairing influence of atheism, nothing can possibly obliterate from the conscience and heart of man that inward faith in a supreme being. The pious Thoodzata has in view the attainment of two objects: she prays, without knowing to whom, that by the agency of some one she might obtain the objects of her pet.i.tion; she is anxious to show her grat.i.tude when she sees that her prayer has been heard. Her faith in the _quasi_ omnipotence of the genii makes her address thanks to them. The Nat is not the person to whom her prayer appears directed, but he is rather a witness of her pet.i.tion. The Burmese, in general, under difficult circ.u.mstances, unforeseen difficulties, and sudden calamities, use always the cry, _Phra kaiba_--G.o.d a.s.sist me--to obtain from above a.s.sistance and protection. Yet that Phra cannot be their Buddha, though he be in their opinion the Phra _par excellence_, since they openly declare that he in no way interferes in the management of this world's affairs. Whence that involuntary cry for a.s.sistance, but from the innate consciousness that above man there is some one ruling over his destinies? An atheistical system may be elaborated in a school of metaphysics, and forced upon ignorant and unreflecting ma.s.ses, but practice will ever belie theory. Man, in spite of his errors and follies, is naturally a believing being; his own weakness and multiplied wants ever compel him to have recourse to some great being that can help and a.s.sist him, and supply, to a certain extent, the deficiency which, in spite of himself, he is compelled to acknowledge existing in him as a stern and humiliating reality.

[2] The Burmese, like all trans-Gangetic nations, divide the year into twelve lunar months of twenty-nine and thirty days alternately. Every third year they add one month, or as they say, double the month of Watso (July). The year begins on, or about, the 12th of April. The days of worship are the days of the four quarters of the moon; but the days of the new and full moon seem to have preference over those of the two other quarters, which latter are scarcely noticed or distinguished from common days. It was on the day of the full moon of April that Thoodzata made her grand offering.

[3] The Burmese translator, not having given in his remarks the explanation or interpretation of Phralaong's five dreams, it seems rather presumptuous to attempt doing a thing, the neglect of which, on the part of the author, may be attributed either to voluntary omission or to incapacity and inability. Let us try to make up, in part, for the deficiency. The first dream prognosticated the future greatness of Phralaong, whose sway, by the diffusion of his doctrines throughout the world, was to be universal, extending from one sea to the other sea. The gra.s.s growing out of his navel and reaching to the sky was indicative of the spreading of his law, not only amongst the beings inhabiting the seat of men, but also amidst those dwelling in the abodes of Nats and Brahmas. The ants covering his legs offer an enigma, the explanation of which is reserved to some future Oedipus. As to the birds of various colours, gathering round him, from the four points of the compa.s.s, and on a sudden becoming all white, by their contact with him, they represent the innumerable beings that will come to hear the preaching of the future Buddha with divers dispositions, and different progress in the way of merits, and will all be perfected by their following the true way to merit, that he will point out to them. The fifth dream in which Phralaong thought he was walking on a mountain of filth, without being in the least contaminated by it, foreshowed the incomparable perfection and purity of Buddha, who, though remaining in the world of pa.s.sions, was no more to be affected by their influence.

[4] We have now reached the most interesting episode of Phralaong's life. He is to become a perfected Buddha under the shade of the gniaong or banyan tree (_ficus indica_, _ficus religiosa_). There are two circ.u.mstances attending that great event, deserving peculiar notice. The first is the preference given to the east over the three other points of the compa.s.s, and the second, the mighty combat that takes place between Phralaong and the wicked Nat Manh, or Mar. I notice the first circ.u.mstance because it agrees with the tradition prevailing amongst most nations previous to or about the coming of our Lord, that from the east there was to come an extraordinary personage, who would confer on the human race the greatest benefits, and cause the return of happy times, like the golden age so much celebrated by poets. The Roman historian Suetonius bears testimony to the existence of that tradition as being universally known in his own days. It is not impossible that the same notion, not unknown in the far east, might have induced Phralaong to look towards the east at the supreme moment when perfect intelligence was to become his happy lot. It may be said in opposition to this supposition, that the splendour and magnificence of the sun, emerging from the bosom of night, and dispelling darkness by pouring a flood of light on the face of the earth, restoring nature to life and action, was a sufficient inducement to Phralaong for giving preference to the east. But to an ascetic like him, who is convinced that this world is a mere illusion, such a consideration would weigh very little on his mind, and would not be a sufficient motive to induce him to give so marked a preference to the east.

The second circ.u.mstance remarkable for the time it occurred, is the great combat between Phralaong and Manh. The first is the personification of goodness and benevolence towards all beings; the second is the personification of consummate wickedness. The contest is to take place between the good principle on the one hand, and the evil one on the other. Phralaong, on his becoming Buddha, will preach a law designed to dispel mental darkness, to check vicious pa.s.sions, to show the right way to perfection, to unloose the ties that keep beings in the wretched state of existence, and enable them to reach safely the peaceful sh.o.r.es of Neibban. Manh, the devil himself, the father of darkness, of lies and deceit, delights in seeing all beings plunged into the abyss of vices, carried out of the right way by the impetuous and irresistible torrent of their pa.s.sions, and doomed to turn for ever in the whirlpool of endless existences. He looks upon himself as the king of this world, and proudly exults in contemplating all beings bending their neck under his tyrannical yoke, and acknowledging his undisputed power. Now the moment approaches when a mighty antagonist will contend with him for the empire of the world. His mission will be to labour incessantly for the delivery of all beings from the grasp of their mortal enemy, and set them free from the tyranny of pa.s.sions. Manh is enraged at the audacious pretensions of Phralaong. Hence the gigantic efforts he makes to maintain his rights, and retain possession of his empire. At the time Phralaong left the world to become a Rahan, Manh endeavoured to dissuade him from attempting such a design. But on this occasion, the tempter summons all his forces to avert, by an irresistible attack, the deadly blow soon to be levelled at him.

It is needless to add that the reader, in perusing the detailed account of the attack of Manh against Phralaong, ought to bear in mind that it exhibits throughout but an allegory of the opposition of evil to good. The victory of Phralaong over Manh exemplifies the final triumph of truth over error.

When the contest was nearly over, Phralaong objected to the claims of Manh to the possession of his throne, on the ground that he never had practised the ten great virtues, nor performed works of kindness, charity, and benevolence, which alone can ent.i.tle a being to obtain the Buddhaship. It is to be borne in mind that these qualifications form the real characteristics of a Buddha, together with the possession of the supreme intelligence. In this system, they admit that there exist certain beings called Pitzega-Buddhas, who possess all the knowledge and science of a genuine Buddha, but as they are divested of those benevolent feelings which induce the former to labour earnestly for the benefit and salvation of all beings, they cannot be a.s.similated to the real Buddhas. The cross-legged position which our Buddha has always taken in preference to any other, whilst he spent forty-nine days at the foot of and in various places round the Bodi tree, is, as every one knows, peculiar to and a favourite with all Asiatics. But with him, it is the fittest position for meditation and contemplation. Hence most of the statues or images of Gaudama exhibit or represent him in the cross-legged position which he occupied when he attained the Buddhaship. As this event is by far the most important of his life, it is but natural that this great occurrence should ever be forced upon the attention and memory of his followers, by objects representing him on that most important stage of his last existence. It is not unusual to meet with statues of Gaudama, sometimes of colossal dimensions, representing him in a reclining position. This is the peculiar situation he occupied when he died. Hence those two most common images of Gaudama are designed to remind his followers of the two greatest circ.u.mstances of his life, viz., his becoming Buddha, and his entering the state of Neibban.

Here again one is forcibly compelled to reflect on the singular _role_ attributed to those Pitzega-Buddhas. They possess all the science of a Buddha, but are deficient in that kindness, benevolence, and zeal which prompt the real Buddhas to labour so strenuously for the deliverance of all beings. They appear only in those ages of darkness and ignorance which are not to be brightened and enlightened by the presence of a Buddha. They are like smaller luminaries, shedding a pale light among men to prevent their sinking into an unfathomable abyss of ignorance; they maintain on earth some sparks of the knowledge of fundamental truths, which otherwise would be completely obliterated from the memory of men. Not unlike the prophets of old, they prepare men in an indirect manner for the coming of the future deliverer. Their mission being at an end, when a Buddha is to come among men, they disappear, and none of them is to be seen either in the days of Buddha or during all the time his religion is to last.

[5] The witness whom Phralaong summoned in support of his claim to the undisturbed possession of the throne was the earth itself. It maybe from the example that was set on this occasion that Buddhists have borrowed the habit of calling the earth as a witness of the good works they have done or are doing. I will briefly relate what is done and said on such occasions. During my former residence in Burmah I observed on a certain occasion, when taking my evening walk, about ten or twelve persons of both s.e.xes a.s.sembled on a rather retired spot in the vicinity of a paG.o.da. As they appeared all quite attentive, I came near to them to see what was the cause that had brought them thither, and what occurrence seemed to rivet their attention. As I was known to some of them, they were not frightened by my sudden apparition. On my asking them the motive of their a.s.sembling here at a late hour, they said that, having buried yesterday a child two years old, they came to make some offerings of boiled rice, plantains, and other fruits, to propitiate the Nat of the place. Having asked them to repeat the formula they had uttered on the occasion, they kindly complied with my request. Here is the substance of that formula. "Believing in the three precious things, Buddha, the Law, and the a.s.sembly of the perfect, I make this offering, that I may be delivered from all present and future miseries. May all beings existing in the four states of punishment reach the fortunate seats of Nats. I wish all my relatives and all men inhabiting this and other worlds to have a share in this meritorious work. O earth and you Nats, guardians of this place, be witness to the offering I am making." On uttering these last words, the offerer of the present, or a talapoin, sent for this purpose, pours down some water on the ground.

[6] As the Nats and all other beings are to be benefited by the preachings of Buddha, it is but natural that they all join in singing his praises and exalting his glorious achievements. The Nagas and Galongs are fabulous animals, which are often mentioned in the course of this Legend. It has been observed in a former note that, according to the Buddhistic notions, animals are beings in a state of punishment, differing from man, not in nature, but in merits. Some of them, having nearly exhausted the sum of their demerits, begin to feel the influence of former merits. They are supposed to have, to a certain extent, the use of reason. No wonder if they rejoice at seeing the triumph of him who is to help them in advancing towards a condition better than their present one.

[7] The banyan tree, at the foot of which Phralaong obtains perfect intelligence, is occasionally called throughout this narrative the Bodi tree. The word Bodi means wisdom, science, or knowledge. The Burmese, in their sacred writings, always mention the tree by that name, because, under its shade, perfect science was communicated to Phralaong. It is supposed to occupy the very centre of the island of Dzampudiba. During all the while Phra or Buddha (let us call him now by that name) remained under that tree his mind was engaged in the most profound meditation, which the gigantic efforts of his enemy could scarcely interrupt. It is not to be inferred from the narrative in the text that supreme intelligence was communicated suddenly or by miraculous process to our Buddha. He was already prepared, by former mental labours, for that grand result; he had previously capacitated himself, by studies and reflection, for the reception of that more than human science; he required but a last and mighty effort of his intelligence to arrive finally at the acme of knowledge, and thereby to become a perfect Buddha. That last effort was made on this occasion, and crowned with the most complete success. He gained the science of the past, present, and future.

It would be somewhat curious to investigate the motives that have determined Buddhists to give to that sacred tree the name of Bodi. At first sight one will infer that such a name was given to the tree because, under its refreshing and cooling shade the Bodi, or Supreme intelligence, was communicated to Phralaong. The occurrence, however extraordinary it be, is scarcely sufficient to account for such an appellation. Bearing in mind the numerous and striking instances of certain revealed facts and truths, offered to the attention of the reader of this Legend, in a deformed but yet recognisable shape, it would not be quite out of the limits of probability to suppose that this is also a remnant of the tradition of the tree of knowledge that occupied the centre of the garden of Eden.

[8] The theory of the twelve causes and effects is, in itself, very abstruse, and almost above the comprehension of those uninitiated in the metaphysics of Buddhists. I will attempt to a.n.a.lyse it in as simple and clear a way as possible. This theory is very ancient, probably coeval with the first ages of Buddhism. It forms this basis of its ontology and metaphysics in the same manner as the four great and transcendent truths are the foundation whereupon rests the system of morals. It is probable that Gaudama, in his preachings, which were very simple, and within the reach of ordinary minds, never formulated his doctrine on this essential point in such a dry and concise manner. But the seed was sown, and the germ deposited here and there in his instructions. His immediate disciples, in endeavouring to give a distant shape to their master's doctrines, gradually framed the formula or theory just stated.

It, in fact, presents the very characteristics of a system elaborated in a philosophical school.

In taking our departure from the first cause, which is _Awidza_, or ignorance, or the wanting in science, or no knowledge, we have to follow the different stages and conditions of a being until it reaches decrepitude, old age, and death. When we speak of ignorance, or no science, we must not suppose the material existence of a being that ignores. But we must take ignorance in an abstract sense, deprived of forms, and subsisting in a manner very different from what we are wont to consider ordinary beings. A European has a great difficulty in finding his way through a process of reasoning so extraordinary, and so different from that positivism which he is used to. But with the Buddhist the case is widely different. He can pa.s.s from the abstract to the concrete, from the ideal to the real, with the greatest ease. But let us follow the scale of the causes and effects, upon which there are twelve steps.

From ignorance comes _Sangkara_, that is to say, conception or imagination, which mistakes for reality what is unreal, which looks on this world as something substantial, whilst it is, indeed, nothing but shadow and emptiness, a.s.suming forms which pa.s.s away as quick as the representations of theatrical exhibitions. Sangkara, in its turn, begets _Wignian_, or knowledge, attended with a notion of sentiment, implying that of soul and life, in an abstract sense. From Wignian proceeds _Namrup_, the name and form, because knowledge can have for its object but name and form, &c., or, to speak in the language of Buddhists, things that are external and internal. But let it be borne in mind that what is herein meant is but the individuality of an ideal being.

The name and form give birth to the _Chayatana_, six senses, or seats of the sensible qualities. To our division of the five ordinary senses Buddhists add the sixth sense of Mano, or the heart, the internal sense. Through the senses we are put in communication or contact with all objects; hence the six senses give rise to the sixth cause _Pasa_, which means, properly speaking, contact. From this cause flows the seventh one, called _Wedana_, or sensation, or, more generally still, sensibility.

In fact, there can be no contact from which there will not result some sensation, either pleasant or unpleasant, _Wedana_ gives infallibly rise to _Tahna_, or pa.s.sion, or desire, or inclination. From this point the series of causes and effects is comparatively easy, because it presents conditions essentially connected with a material object. By Tahna we ought not to understand only the mere inclination that the s.e.xes have one for the other, but the general propensity created in a being by any contact whatever, or perhaps, as usual with Buddhists, the desire taken in an abstract sense.

The immediate result from Tahna is _Upadan_, the attachment, or the conception. It is that state in which the desire adheres to something, a.s.sumes a shape. It is, in fact, the being conceived.

From the state of conception the being pa.s.ses into that of _Bawa_, or existence, or that condition which is created and made by the influence of former good or bad deeds preceding birth, which is but the apparition of the being into this world.

_Dzati_, or birth, is the eleventh cause. It is the ushering of a being into the world. There are six ways by which a being comes into this world, viz., those of Nat, Man, a.s.sura, Preitta, animal, and the inhabitant of h.e.l.l. Birth is accomplished in four different manners, by humidity, an egg, a matrice, and metamorphosis.

The twelfth and last step in the ladder of the causes and effects is decrepitude and death. In fact, every being that is born must grow old, decay, and finally die.

Such is the process followed by Buddhists in attempting to account for all that exists. What effect could such a reasoning have over the mind of the generality of hearers it is difficult to say. But we may rest a.s.sured that, though these principles existed, as an embryo, in the discourses of the author of Buddhism, they were never laid before the generality of hearers in that crude scholastic form. Such abstruse ideas, when a.n.a.lysed and commented upon by Buddhist doctors, gave rise to the most opposite conclusions. The materialist school based its revolting doctrines upon that theory; we may add that the opinions of that school are generally held in Burmah, and by the great ma.s.s of Buddhists. Some other doctors reasoned in the following manner: Ignorance supposes two things, a being ignoring and a thing ignored, that is to say, man and the world.

They admitted the eternity of a soul which had to pa.s.s through the series above enumerated. With them metempsychosis was a process exactly similar to that imagined by the Brahmins. As to the world, it was, to them, an unreality. Knowledge enabled them to come to the position of understanding and believing that there is no such thing as what we by mistake call world. The latter opinion, which seems to admit of a principle existing distinct from matter, is opposed to the former and general one, which supposes that spirit is but a modification of matter. We deliberately make use of the doubt, implying expression, at the head of the preceding sentence, respecting the real opinions of the latter school, because, in their way of arguing, it is impossible not to come to the painful conclusion that they ignore, or do not admit, a distinction between spirit and matter.

[9] In a work different from that which has been translated is found a more developed exposition of the four great and sublime truths. We think that the reader will like to see in what manner Buddhists themselves understand this important subject, which is, with them, the foundation of their doctrine on morals.

There are four great truths: pain, the production of pain, the destruction of pain, and the way leading to that destruction.

What is pain, which is the first of the great truths? It is birth, old age, sickness, death, the coming in contact with what we dislike, the separation from what we feel an attachment for, the illusion which begets false knowledge. All that is pain.

What is the production of pain, the second sublime truth? It is the desire which incessantly longs for an illusory satisfaction, which can never be obtained. That desire is a perpetually renewed craving, coveting objects here and there, and never satiated. Such is the cause productive of pain; such is the prolific source of all miseries. What is the destruction of pain, which is the third great truth? It is the doing away with that desire which always shows itself, searches after this or that object, is always attended with feelings of pleasure, or some other sensations. It is the perfect and entire stifling of that craving which always covets, and is never satiated. The estranging oneself from that desire and that craving, the complete destruction of both, const.i.tutes the third great truth.

What is the way leading to the destruction of that desire, which is the fourth great truth? The way which one has to follow, in order to obtain that most desirable result, is that which the wise man invariably follows, when he is with an intention, will, diligence, action, life, language, thought, and meditation, always pure and correct.

The four truths are exceedingly praised by Buddhists. They const.i.tute what is emphatically called the law of the wheel, incessantly revolving upon itself, and always presenting successively those four points to the attentive consideration and affectionate piety of the faithful. They are the offensive weapons wherewith pa.s.sions are attacked and destroyed: they are the sword that cuts asunder the link that retains a being in the circle of existences. The revelation, or manifestation of those truths, is the great work that a Buddha has to perform. When it is made, all beings in their respective seats rejoice in an extraordinary manner. Inanimate nature even partakes in the universal joy. The earth shakes with a great violence, and the greatest prodigies proclaim aloud the fortunate manifestation of a law which opens to all beings the way leading to deliverance.