Chapter I (2)

[3] Toocita, or the joyful abode, is one of the seats of the
Nats. But in order to render more intelligible several passages
of this work, it is almost indispensable to have an idea of the
system adopted by Buddhists in assigning to rational beings
their respective seats or abodes. There are thirty-one seats
assigned to all beings, which we may suppose to be disposed on
an immense scale, extending from the bottom of the earth to an
incommensurable height above it. At the foot we find the four
states of punishment, viz., hell, the states of Athourikes,
Preithas, and animals. Next comes the abode of man. Above it are
the six seats of Nats. These eleven seats are called the seats
of passion, or concupiscence, because the beings residing
therein are still subject to the influence of that passion,
though not to an equal degree. Above the abodes of Nats we meet
with the sixteen seats, called Rupa, disposed perpendicularly
one above the other to an incalculable height. The inhabitants
of those fanciful regions are called Brahmas, or perfect. They
have freed themselves from concupiscence and almost all other
passions, but still retain some affection for matter and
material things. Hence the denomination of Rupa, or matter,
given to the seats. The remaining portion of the scale is
occupied by the four seats called Arupa or immaterials, for the
beings inhabiting them are entirely delivered from all passions.
They have, as it were, broken asunder even the smallest ties
that would attach them to this material world. They have reached
the summit of perfection; one step farther, and they enter into
the state Neibban, the consummation, according to Buddhists, of
all perfection. To sum up all the above in a few words: there
are four states of punishment. The seat of man is a place of
probation and trial. The six abodes of Nats are places of
sensual pleasure and enjoyments. In the sixteen seats of Rupa
are to be met those beings whose delights are of a more refined
and almost purely spiritual nature, though retaining as yet some
slight affections for matter. In the four seats of Arupa are
located those beings who are wholly disentangled from material
affections, who delight only in the sublimest contemplation,
soaring, as it were, in the boundless regions of pure
spiritualism.

[4] Thingie is a number represented by a unit, followed by
sixty-four ciphers; others say, one hundred and forty.

[5] Buddhists have different ways of classifying the series of
worlds, which they suppose to succeed to each other, after the
completion of a revolution of nature. As regards Buddhas, who
appear at unequal intervals for illuminating and opening the way
to deliverance to the then existing beings, worlds are divided
into those which are favoured with the presence of one or
several Buddhas, and those to which so eminent a benefit is
denied. The present revolution of nature, which includes the
period in which we live, has been privileged above all others.
No less than five Buddhas, like five shining suns, are to shoot
forth rays of incomparable brilliancy, and dispel the mist of
thick darkness that encompasses all beings, according to their
respective laws of demerits. Of these five, four, namely,
Kaukassan, Gaunagong, Kathaba, Gaudama, have already performed
their great task. The fifth, named Aremideia, is as yet to come.
The religion of Gaudama is to last five thousand years, of which
two thousand four hundred and eight are elapsed. The names of
the twenty-eight last Buddhas are religiously preserved by
Buddhists, together with their age, their stature, the names
of the trees under which they have obtained the universal
intelligence, their country, the names of their father and
mother, and those of their two chief disciples. Deinpakara
occupies the fourth place in the series. He is supposed to have
been eighty cubits high, and to have lived one hundred thousand
years.

It is not without interest to examine whether there have existed
Buddhas previous to the time of Gaudama, and whether the
twenty-eight Buddhas above alluded to are to be considered as
mythological beings who have never existed. It cannot be denied
that mention of former Buddhas is made in the earliest sacred
records, but it seems difficult to infer therefrom that they
are real beings. 1st. The circumstances respecting their
extraordinary longevity, their immense stature, and the myriads
of centuries that are supposed to have elapsed from the times of
the first to those of Gaudama, are apparently conclusive proofs
against the reality of their existence. 2d. The names of those
personages are found mentioned in the preachings of Gaudama,
together with those individuals with whom he is supposed to have
lived and conversed during former existences. Who has ever
thought of giving any credence to those fables? They were used
by Gaudama as so many means to give extension and solidity to
the basis whereupon he intended to found his system. 3d. There
are no historical records or monuments that can give countenance
to the opposite opinion. The historical times begin with
Gaudama, whilst there exist historical proofs of the existence
of the rival creed of Brahminism anterior to the days of the
acknowledged author of Buddhism.

It cannot be doubted that there existed in the days of Buddha,
in the valley of the Ganges and in the Punjaub, a great number
of philosophers, who led a retired life, devoting their time to
study and the practice of virtue. Some of them occasionally
sallied out of their retreats to go and deliver moral
instructions to the people. The fame that attended those
philosophers attracted round their lonely abodes crowds of
hearers, eager to listen to their lectures and anxious to place
themselves under their direction for learning the practice of
virtue. In the pages of this legend will be found passages
corroborating this assertion. Thence arose those multifarious
schools, where were elaborated the many systems, opinions, &c.,
for which India has been celebrated from the remotest antiquity.
The writer has had the patience to read two works full of
disputations between Brahmins and Buddhists, as well as some
books of the ethics of the latter. He has been astonished to
find that in those days the art of arguing, disputing, defining,
&c., had been carried to such a point of nicety as almost to
leave the disciples of Aristotle far behind. It has been said
that the gymnosophists whom Alexander the Great met in India
were Buddhist philosophers. But the particulars mentioned by
Greek writers respecting their manners and doctrines contradict
such a supposition. They are described as living in a state of
complete nakedness, and as refusing to deliver instructions to
the messenger of Alexander, unless he consented to strip himself
of his clothes. On the other hand, we know that Buddha enjoined
a strict modesty on his religious, and in the book of
ordinations the candidate is first asked whether he comes
provided with his canonical dress. The gymnosophists are
represented as practising extraordinary austerities, and holding
self-destruction in great esteem. These and other practices are
quite at variance with all the prescriptions of the Wini, or
book of discipline. It is further mentioned that the Macedonian
hero met with other philosophers living in community; but
whether these were Buddhists or not, it is impossible to decide.
It can scarcely be believed that Buddhism in the days of
Alexander could have already invaded the countries which the
Grecian army conquered.

[6] Nat in Pali means Lord. Its signification is exactly
equivalent to that of Dewa, Dewata. The Nats are an order of
beings in the Buddhistic system, occupying six seats or abodes
of happiness, placed in rising succession above the abode of
man. They are spirits endowed with a body of so subtle and
ethereal nature as to be able to move with the utmost rapidity
from their seat to that of man, and _vice versa_. They play a
conspicuous part in the affairs of this world, and are supposed
to exercise a considerable degree of influence over man and
other creatures. Fear, superstition, and ignorance have peopled
all places with Nats. Every tree, forest, fountain, village, and
town has its protecting Nat. Some among the Nats having lost
their high station through misconduct, have been banished from
their seats and doomed to drag a wretched existence in some
gloomy recess. Their power for doing evil is supposed to be very
great. Hence the excessive dread of those evil genii entertained
by all Buddhists. A good deal of their commonest superstitious
rites have been devised for propitiating those enemies to all
happiness, and averting the calamitous disasters which they seem
to keep hanging over our heads.

Though the Nats' worship is universal among the Buddhists of all
nations, it is but fair to state that it is contrary to the
principles of genuine Buddhism and repugnant to its tenets. It
is probable that it already existed among all the nations of
Eastern Asia at the time they were converted to Buddhism.

The tribes that have not as yet been converted to Buddhism have
no other worship but that of the Nats. To mention only the
principal ones, such as the Karens, the Khyins, and the
Singphos, they may differ in the mode of performing their
religious rites and superstitious ceremonies, but the object is
the same, honouring and propitiating the Nats. This worship is
so deeply rooted in the minds of the wild and half-civilised
tribes of Eastern Asia, that it has been, to a great extent,
retained by the nations that have adopted Buddhism as their
religious creed. The Burmans, for instance, from the king down
to the lowest subject, privately and publicly indulge in the
Nats' worship. As to the tribes that have remained outside the
pale of Buddhism, they may be styled Nats' worshippers. Hence it
may be inferred that previous to the introduction or the
preaching of the tenets of the comparatively new religion in
these parts, the worship of Nats was universal and
predominating.

[7] Raci or Rathee means an hermit, a personage living by
himself in some lonely and solitary recess, far from the
contagious atmosphere of impure society, devoting his time to
meditation and contemplation. His diet is of the coarsest kind,
supplied to him by the forests he lives in; the skins of some
wild animals afford him a sufficient dress. Most of those
Rathees having reached an uncommon degree of extraordinary
attainment, their bodies become spiritualised to a degree which
enables them to travel from place to place by following an
aerial course. In all Buddhistic legends, comedies, &c., they
are often found interfering in the narrated stories and
episodes.

There is no doubt but those devotees who, in the days of Buddha,
spent their time in retreat, devoted to study and meditation,
were Brahmins. In support of this assertion we have the highest
possible native authority, the Institutes of Menoo, compiled
probably during the eighth or ninth century before Christ. We
find in that work, minutely described, the mode of life becoming
a true Brahmin. During the third part of his life, a Brahmin
must live as an anchorite in the woods. Clad in the bark of
trees or the skins of animals, with his hair and nails uncut,
having no shelter whatever but that which is afforded him by the
trees of the forest, keeping sometimes a strict silence, living
on herbs and roots, he must train himself up to bearing with
entire unconcern the cold of winter and the heat of summer. Such
is the course of life, according to the Vedas, which the true
Brahmin is bound to follow during the third portion of his
existence. Some Buddhistic zealots have sometimes endeavoured to
emulate the ancient Rathees in their singular mode of life. It
is not quite unfrequent in our days to hear of some fervent
Phongies who, during the three months of Lent, withdraw into
solitude, to be more at liberty to devote their time to study
and meditation. This observance, however, is practised by but
very few individuals, and that, too, with a degree of laxity
that indicates a marked decline of the pristine fervour that
glowed in the soul of primitive Buddhists.

[8] The three great works are; the assistance afforded to his
parents and relatives, the great offerings he had made, coupled
with a strict observance of the most difficult points of the
law, and benevolent dispositions towards all beings
indiscriminately.

[9] This extraordinary monarch, called Tsekiawade, never makes
his appearance during the period of time allotted to the
publication and duration of the religious institutions of a
Buddha.

[10] Here I make use of the expression Phralaong, or more
correctly Phraalaong, to designate Buddha before he obtained the
supreme knowledge, when he was, as it were, slowly and gradually
gravitating towards the centre of matchless perfection. In that
state it is said of him that he is not yet ripe.

This word involves a meaning which ought to be well understood.
No single expression in our language can convey a correct idea
of its import, and for this reason it has been retained through
these pages. _Alaong_ is a derivative from the verb _laong_,
which means to be in an incipient way, in a way of progression
towards something more perfect. A Buddha is at first a being in
a very imperfect state; but passing through countless
existences, he frees himself, by a slow process, from some of
his imperfections; he acquires merits which enable him to rise
in the scale of progress, science, and perfection. In perusing
the narrative of the five hundred and ten former existences of
Gaudama which have come down to us, we find that, when he was
yet in the state of animal, he styled himself Phralaong. The
Burmese have another expression of similar import to express the
same meaning. They say of a being as yet in an imperfect
condition that he is soft, tender as an unripe thing; and when
he passes to the state of perfection, they say that he is ripe,
that he has blossomed and expanded. They give to understand that
he who is progressing towards the Buddhaship has in himself all
the elements constitutive of a Buddha lying as yet concealed in
himself; but when he reaches that state, then all that had
hitherto remained in a state of unripeness bursts suddenly out
of the bud and comes to full maturity. Similar expressions are
often better calculated to give a clear insight into the true
and real opinions of Buddhists than a lengthened and elaborate
dissertation could do.

[11] The ten great virtues or duties are, liberality, observance
of the precepts of the law, retreat into lonely places, wisdom,
diligence, benevolence, patience, veracity, fortitude, and
indifference. The five renouncements are, renouncing children,
wife, goods, life, and one's self.

[12] Metempsychosis is one of the fundamental dogmas of
Buddhism. That continual transition from one existence to
another, from a state of happiness to one of unhappiness, and
_vice versa_, forms a circle encompassing the Buddhist in every
direction. He is doomed to fluctuate incessantly on the
never-settled waters of existence. Hence his ardent wishes to be
delivered from that most pitiable position, and his earnest
longings for the ever-tranquil state of Neibban, the way to
which Buddha alone can teach him by his precepts and his
examples.

This dogma is common both to Brahmins and Buddhists. The
originator and propagator of the creed of the latter found it
already established; he had but to embody it among his own
conceptions, and make it agree with his new ideas. His first
teachers were Brahmins, and under their tuition he learned that
dogma which may be considered as the basis on which hinge both
systems. In fact, the two rival creeds have a common object in
view, the elevating of the soul from those imperfections forced
upon her by her connection with matter, and the setting of her
free from the sway of passions, which keep her always linked to
this world. According to the votaries of both creeds,
transmigration has for its object the effecting of those several
purposes. There is a curious opinion among Buddhists respecting
the mode of transmigrations, and there is no doubt it is a very
ancient one, belonging to the genuine productions of the
earliest Buddhism. Transmigration, they say, is caused and
entirely controlled by the influence of merits and demerits, but
in such a way that a being who has come to his end transmits
nothing of his entity to the being to be immediately reproduced.
The latter is a being apart, independent of the former, created,
it is true, by the influence of the late being's good or bad
deeds, but having nothing in common with him. They explain this
startling doctrine by the comparison of a tree successively
producing and bearing fruits, of which some are good and some
bad. The fruits, though coming from the same tree, have nothing
in common, either with each other or with those that were
previously grown, or may afterwards grow out of the same plant;
they are distinct and separate. So they say, _kan_, or the
influence of merits and demerits, produces successively beings
totally distinct one from the other. This atheistic or
materialistic doctrine is not generally known by the common
people, who practically hold that transmigration is effected in
the manner professed and taught by Pythagoras and his school.

If between the adherents of the two creeds there is a perfect
agreement respecting the means to be resorted to for reaching
the point when man becomes free from miseries, ignorance, and
imperfections, they are at variance as to the end to be arrived
to. The Brahmin leads the perfected being to the supreme
essence, in which he is merged as a drop of water in the ocean,
losing his personality, to form a whole with the Divine
substance. This is Pantheism. The Buddhist, ignoring a supreme
being, conducts the individual that has become emancipated from
the thraldom of passions to a state of complete isolation,
called Neibban. This is, strictly speaking, Annihilation.

[13] The duration of a revolution of nature, or the time
required for the formation of a world, its existence and
destruction, is divided into four periods. The fourth period, or
that which begins with the apparition of man on the earth until
its destruction, is divided into sixty-four parts, called
andrakaps. During one andrakap, the life of man increases
gradually from ten years to an almost innumerable number of
years; and having reached its maximum of duration, it decreases
slowly to its former short duration of ten years. We live at
present in that second part of an andrakap when the life of man
is on the decline and decrease. If my memory serve me right, we
have reached at present the ninth or tenth andrakap of the
fourth period. Should the calculations of Buddhists ever prove
correct, the deluded visionaries who look forward to an
approaching Millennium, have still to wait long ere their
darling wishes be realised.

Though it be somewhat tiresome and unpleasant to have to write
down the absurd and ridiculous notions Burmans entertain
respecting the organisation of matter, the origin, production,
existence, duration, and end of the world, it appears quite
necessary to give a brief account, and sketch an outline of
their ideas on these subjects. The reader will then have the
means of tracing up to their Hindu origin several of the many
threads that link Buddhism to Brahminism, and better understand
the various details hereafter to be given, and intended for
establishing a great fact, viz., the Brahminical origin of the
greater part of the Buddhistic institutions. He will, moreover,
have the satisfaction of clearly discovering, buried in the
rubbish of fabulous recitals, several important facts recorded
in the Holy Scriptures.

Matter is eternal, but its organisation and all the changes
attending it are caused and regulated by certain laws co-eternal
with it. Both matter and the laws that act upon it are
self-existing, independent of the action and control of any
being, &c. As soon as a system of worlds is constituted,
Buddhists boldly assert and perseveringly maintain that the law
of merit and demerit is the sole principle that regulates and
controls both the physical and moral world.

But how is a world brought into existence? Water, or rather
rain, is the chief agent, operating in the reproduction of a
system of nature. During an immense period of time rain pours
down with an unabating violence in the space left by the last
world that has been destroyed. Meanwhile strong winds, blowing
from opposite directions, accumulate the water within definite
and certain limits until it has filled the whole space. At last
appears on the surface of water, floating like a greasy
substance, the sediment deposited by water. In proportion as the
water dries up under the unremitting action of the wind, that
crust increases in size, until, by a slow, gradual, but sure
process, it invariably assumes the shape and proportion of our
planet, in the manner we are to describe. The centre of the
earth, indeed of a world or system of nature, is occupied by a
mountain of enormous size and elevation, called Mienmo. This is
surrounded by seven ranges of mountains, separated from each
other by streams, equalling, in breadth and depth, the height of
the mountain forming its boundaries in the direction of the
central elevation. The range nearest to the Mienmo rises to half
its height. Each successive range is half the height of the
range preceding it. Beyond the last stream are disposed four
great islands, in the direction of the four points of the
compass. Each of those four islands is surrounded by five
hundred smaller ones. Beyond those there is water, reaching to
the farthest limits of the world. The great island we inhabit is
the southern one, called Dzampoudipa, from the Jambu, or Eugenia
tree, growing upon it.

Our planet rests on a basis of water double the thickness of the
earth; the water itself is lying on a mass of air that has a
thickness double that of water. Below this aerial stratum is
_laha_, or vacuum.

Let us see now in what manner our planet is peopled, and whence
came its first inhabitants. From the seats of Brahmas which were
beyond the range of destruction when the former world perished,
three celestial beings, or, according to another version, six,
came on the earth, remaining on it in a state of perfect
happiness, occasionally revisiting, when it pleased them, their
former seats of glory. This state of things lasts during a long
period. At that time the two great luminaries of the day and the
stars of night have not as yet made their appearance, but rays
of incomparable brightness, emanating from the pure bodies of
those new inhabitants, illuminate the globe. They feed at long
intervals upon a certain gelatinous substance, of such a
nutritious power that the smallest quantity is sufficient to
support them for a long period. This delicious food is of the
most perfect flavour. But it happens that at last it disappears,
and is successively replaced by two other substances, one of
which resembles the tender sprout of a tree. They are so
nutritious and purified that in our present condition we can
have no adequate idea of their properties. They too disappear,
and are succeeded by a sort of rice called _Tha-le_. The
inhabitants of the earth eat also of that rice. But alas! the
consequences prove as fatal to them as the eating of the
forbidden fruit proved to the happy denizens of Eden. The
brightness that had hitherto encircled their bodies and
illuminated the world vanishes away, and, to their utmost
dismay, they find themselves, for the first time, sunk into an
abyss of unknown darkness. The eating of that coarse food
creates faeces and evacuations which, forcing their way out of
the body, cause the appearance of what marks the distinction of
the sexes. Passions, for the first time, burn and rage in the
bosom of those hitherto passionless beings. They are deprived of
the power to return to their celestial seats. Very soon
jealousy, contentions, &c., follow in the train of the
egotistical distinction of _mine_ and _thine_. Finding
themselves in the gloom of darkness, the unhappy beings sigh for
and long after light, when, on a sudden, the sun, breaking down
the barrier of darkness, bursts out, rolling, as it were, in a
flood of light, which illuminates the whole world; but soon
disappearing in the west below the horizon, darkness seems to
resume its hold. New lamentations and bewailings arise on the
part of men, when in a short time appears majestically the moon,
spreading its silvery and trembling rays of light. At the same
time the planets and stars take their respective stations in the
sky, and begin their regular revolutions. The need of settling
disputes that arise is soon felt by the new inhabitants; they
agree to elect a chief, whom they invest with a sufficient
authority for framing regulations which are to be obligatory on
every member of society, and power for enforcing obedience to
those regulations. Hence the origin of society.

Men, at first practising virtue, enjoyed a long life, the
duration of which reached to the almost incredible length of a
thingie. But they having much relaxed in the practice of virtue,
it lessened proportionably to their want of fervour in the
observance of the law, until, by their extreme wickedness, it
dwindled to the short period of ten years. The same ascending
and descending scale of human life, successively brought in by
the law of merit and demerit, takes place sixty-four times, and
constitutes an andrakap, or the duration of a world.

It remains only to mention rapidly some particulars regarding
the end of a revolution of nature. The cause of such an event is
the influence of the demerits, prevailing to such an extent as
to be all-powerful in working out destruction. Two solemn
warnings of the approaching dissolution of our planet are given
by Nats, one nearly 100,000 and the other 100 years before that
event. The bearers of such sad news make their appearance on
earth with marks of deep mourning, as best suited to afford
additional weight to their exhortations. They earnestly call on
men to repent of their sins and amend their lives. These last
summonses are generally heeded by all mankind, so that men, when
the world is destroyed, generally migrate, together with the
victims of hell who have atoned for their past iniquities, to
those seats of Brahmas that escape destruction. There are three
great principles of demerit, concupiscence, anger, and
ignorance. The world also is destroyed by the action of three
different agents, fire, water, and wind. Concupiscence is the
most common, though the less heinous of the three. Next comes
anger, less prevailing, though it is more heinous; but ignorance
is by far the most fatal of all moral distempers. The moral
disorder then prevailing causes destruction by the agency that
it sets in action. Concupiscence has for its agency fire; anger,
water; ignorance, wind; but in the following proportion. Of
sixty-four destructions of this world, fifty-six are caused by
conflagration, seven by water, and one by wind. Their respective
limits of duration stand as follows: conflagration reaches to
the five lowest seats of Brahmas; water extends to the eighth
seat, and the destructive violence of the wind is felt as far as
the ninth seat.

[14] Our planet or globe is composed, according to Buddhists,
of the mountain Mienmo, being in height 82,000 youdzanas (1
youdzana is, according to some authorities, equal to little less
than 12 English miles) above the surface of the earth, and in
depth equal to its height. Around this huge and tall elevation
are disposed the four great islands, according to the four
points of the compass; and each of these again is surrounded by
500 small islands. The countries south of the great chain of the
Himalaya are supposed to form the great island lying at the
south.

It would be easy to give, at full length, the ridiculous notions
entertained by Buddhists of these parts on geography and
cosmography, &c., &c.; but the knowledge of such puerilities is
scarcely worth the attention of a serious reader, who is anxious
to acquire accurate information respecting a religious system,
which was designed by its inventor to be the vehicle of moral
doctrines, with but very few dogmas. Those speculations upon
this material world have gradually found their place in the
collection of sacred writings, but they are no part of the
religious creed. They are of a Hindu origin, and convey Indian
notions upon those various topics. These notions even do not
belong to the system as expounded in the Vedas, but have been
set forth at a comparatively modern epoch.

[15] A Rahanda is a being very far advanced in perfection, and
gifted with high spiritual attainments, which impart to his
mortal frame certain distinguished prerogatives, becoming almost
spirits. Concupiscence is totally extinguished in a Rahanda; he
may be said to be fit for the state Neibban. Several classes are
assigned to Rahandas alone, according to their various degrees
of advancement in the way of perfection.

[16] It is an immutable decree that she on whom has been
conferred the singular honour of giving birth to a mortal who,
during the course of his existence, is to become a Buddha, dies
invariably seven days after her delivery, migrating to one of
the delightful seats of Nats. The Burmese translator observes
that a womb that has been, as it were, consecrated and
sanctified by the presence of a child of so exalted a dignity,
can never become afterwards the hidden abode of less dignified
beings. It must be confessed that the conception of Phralaong in
his mother's womb is wrapped up in a mysterious obscurity,
appearing as it does to exclude the idea of conjugal
intercourse. The Cochin-Chinese in their religious legends
pretend that Buddha was conceived and born from Maia in a
wonderful manner, not resembling at all what takes place
according to the order of nature.

[17] The Mount Himawonta is famous in all Buddhistic
compositions, as the scene where great and important events have
happened. It is in all probability the Himalaya, as being the
highest range of mountains ever known to Indian Buddhists.

[18] Pounhas are the Brahmins who, even in those days of remote
antiquity, were considered as the wisest in their generation.
They had already monopolised the lucrative trade of
fortune-tellers, astrologers, &c., and it appears that they have
contrived to retain it up to our own days. During my first stay
in Burmah I became acquainted with a young Pounha, wearing the
white dress, and getting his livelihood by telling the
horoscopes of newly-born infants, and even grown-up people. I
learned from him the mode of finding out by calculation the
state of the heavens at any given hour whatever. This mode of
calculation is entirely based on the Hindu system, and has
evidently been borrowed from that people.

Though Brahmins in those days, as in our own, worked on popular
ignorance and credulity in the manner abovementioned, we ought
not to lose sight of the great fact, borne out by this legend in
a most distinct and explicit way, that many among them devoted
all their time, energies, and abilities to the acquirement of
wisdom, and the observance of the most arduous practices. Their
austere mode of life was to a great extent copied and imitated
by the first religious of the Buddhist persuasion. Many
ordinances and prescriptions of the Wini agree, in a remarkable
degree, with those enforced by the Vedas. In the beginning, the
resemblance must have been so great as to render the
discrepancies scarcely perceptible, since we read in this very
work of an injunction made to the early converts, to bestow alms
on the Pounhas as well as on the Bickus or mendicant religious,
placing them both on a footing of perfect equality.

[19] Preitha is a being in a state of punishment and sufferings
on account of sins committed in a former existence. He is doomed
to live in the solitary recesses of uninhabited mountains,
smarting under the pangs of never-satiated hunger. His body, and
particularly his stomach, are of gigantic dimensions, whilst his
mouth is so small that a needle could scarcely be shoved into
it.

[20] In the Buddhistic system of cosmogony, 100,000 worlds
form one system, subject to the same immutable changes and
revolutions as affect this one which we inhabit. They admit,
indeed, that the number of worlds is unlimited, but they assert
that those forming one system are simultaneously destroyed,
reproduced and perfected, by virtue of certain eternal laws
inherent in matter itself.

[21] Tsadoomarit is the first of the six abodes of Nats. The
description of the pleasures enjoyed by the inhabitants of that
seat is replete with accounts of the grossest licentiousness.

[22] A Palou, or rather Bilou, is a monster with a human face,
supposed to feed on human flesh. His eyes are of a deep red hue,
and his body of so subtle a nature as never to project any
shadow. Wonderful tales are told of this monster, which plays
a considerable part in most of the Buddhistic writings.

[23] A Dzedi is a religious edifice of a conical form, supported
on a square basis, and having its top covered with what the
Burmese call an umbrella, resembling in its shape the musical
instrument vulgarly called _chapeau chinois_ by the French. On
each side of the quadrangular basis are opened four niches, in
the direction of the four cardinal points, destined to receive
statues of Buddha. This monument is of every dimension in size,
from the smallest, a few feet high, to the tallest, of one or
two hundred feet high. It is to be seen in every direction, and
in the neighbourhood of towns every elevation is crowned with
one or several Dzedis.

The word Dzedi means a sacred depository, that is to say, a
place where relics of Buddha were enshrined. The word has been
extended since to places which have become receptacles of the
scriptures, or of the relics of distinguished religious, who had
acquired eminence by their scientific and moral attainments. In
the beginning, those Dzedis were a kind of _tumuli_, or mounds
of earth or bricks, erected upon the shrine wherein relics were
enclosed. In proportion as the followers of the Buddhistic faith
increased in number, wealth, and influence, they erected Dzedis
on a grander scale, bearing always a great resemblance in shape
and form to the primitive ones. The stupas or topes discovered
in the Punjaub, and in other parts of the Indian Peninsula, were
real Buddhistic tumuli or Dzedis.

During succeeding ages, when relics could not be procured, the
faithful continued to erect Dzedis, the sight of which was
intended to remind them of the sacred relics, and they paid to
those relics and monuments the same veneration as they would
have offered to those enriched with those priceless objects.
In Burmah, in particular, the zeal, or rather the rage, for
building Dzedis has been carried to a degree scarcely to be
credited by those who have not visited that country. In the
following pages there will be found an attempt to describe the
various forms given to those monuments.

[24] The thabeit is an open-mouthed pot, of a truncated
spheroidical form, made of earth, iron, or brass, without
ornaments, used by the Buddhist monks when going abroad, in
their morning excursions, to receive the alms bestowed on them
by the admirers of their holy mode of life.