Chapter II

_Birth of Buddha in a forest -- Rejoicings on that occasion --
Kaladewila -- Prediction of the Pounhas -- Vain efforts of
Thoodaudana to thwart the effect of the Prediction._

The time of her approaching confinement being close at hand, the princess solicited from her husband, King Thoodaudana, leave to go to the country of Dewah,[1] amongst her friends and relatives. As soon as her request was made known, the king ordered that the whole extent of the road between Kapilawot and Dewah should be perfectly levelled, and lined on both sides with plantain trees, and adorned with the finest ornaments. Jars, full of the purest water, were to be deposited all along the road at short intervals. A chair of gold was made ready for conveying the queen; and a thousand noblemen, attended by an innumerable retinue, were directed to accompany her during the journey. Between the two countries an immense forest of lofty Engyin trees extends to a great distance. As soon as the _cortege_ reached it, five water-lilies shot forth spontaneously from the stem and the main branches of each tree, and innumerable birds of all kinds, by their melodious tunes, filled the air with the most ravishing music. Trees, similar in beauty to those growing in the seats of Nats, apparently sensible of the presence of the incarnated Buddha, seemed to share in the universal joy.

On beholding this wonderful appearance of all the lofty trees of the forest, the queen felt a desire to approach nearer and enjoy the marvellous sight offered to her astonished regards. Her noble attendants led her forthwith a short distance into the forest. Maia, seated on her couch, along with her sister Patzapati, desired her attendants to have it moved closer to an Engyin tree (_shorea robusta_), which she pointed out. Her wishes were immediately complied with. She then rose gently on her couch; her left hand, clasped round the neck of her sister, supported her in a standing position. With the right hand she tried to reach and break a small branch, which she wanted to carry away. On that very instant, as the slender rattan, heated by fire, bends down its tender head, all the branches lowered their extremities, offering themselves, as it were, to the hand of the queen, who unhesitatingly seized and broke the extremity of one of the young boughs. By virtue of a certain power inherent in her dignity, on a sudden all the winds blew gently throughout the forest. The attendants, having desired all the people to withdraw to a distance, disposed curtains all round the place the queen was standing on. Whilst she was in that position, admiring the slender bough she held in her hands, the moment of her confinement happened, and she was delivered of a son.[D]

[D] On the same day a son was born to Amitaudana, called Ananda.
The wife of Thouppaboudha of Dewah was delivered of a daughter,
called Yathaudara, who became afterwards the wife of Phralaong.
Anouroudha, the son of Thookaudana, was ushered into existence
on the same solemn occasion. The above-named Ananda was first
cousin to the Buddha, and subsequently became the amiable,
faithful, and devoted disciple who, during twenty-five years,
attended on the person of Buddha, and affectionately ministered
to all his wants. After the death of his mother Maia, Phralaong
was nursed and brought up with the greatest care by his aunt
Patzapati, sometimes called Gautamee.

Four chief Brahmas[2] received the new-born infant on a golden net-work, and placed him in the presence of the happy mother, saying, "Give yourself up, O Queen, to joy and rejoicing; here is the precious and wonderful fruit of your womb."[E]

[E] _Remarks of the Burmese Translator._--When children are born
they appear in this world covered all over their bodies with
impure and disgusting substances. But an exception was made in
favour of our infant Phralaong. He was born without the least
stain of offending impurity; he was ushered into this world,
pure and resplendent, like a fine ruby placed on a piece of the
richest cloth of Kathika. He left his mother's womb with his
feet and hands stretched out, exhibiting the dignified
countenance of a Pundit descending from the place where he has
expounded the law. Though both mother and child were exempt from
the humiliating miseries common to all other human beings, there
came down from the skies upon both, by way of a respectful
offering, gentle showers of cold and warm water, succeeding each
other alternately in a regular order.

From the hands of the four chiefs of Brahmas, four chiefs of Nats received the blessed child, whom they handed over to men, who placed him on a beautiful white cloth. But to the astonishment of all, he freed himself from the hands of those attending upon him, and stood in a firm and erect position on the ground, when casting a glance towards the east, more than one thousand worlds appeared like a perfectly levelled plain. All the Nats inhabiting those worlds made offerings of flowers and perfumes, exclaiming with exultation, "An exalted personage has made his appearance;--who can ever be compared to him? who has ever equalled him? He is indeed the most excellent of all beings." Phralaong looked again towards the three other directions. Raising his eyes upwards, and then lowering them down, he saw that there was no being equal to him. Conscious of his superiority, he jumped over a distance of seven lengths of a foot, in a northern direction, exclaiming,--"This is my last birth; there shall be to me no other state of existence; I am the greatest of all beings."[3] He then began to walk steadily in the same direction. A chief of Brahmas held over his head the white umbrella.[4] A Nat carried the golden fan. Other Nats held in their hands the golden sword, the golden slippers, the cope set with the rarest precious stones, and other royal insignia.[F]

[F] _Remarks of the Burmese Translator._--In former existences,
our Phralaong is said to have spoken a few words immediately
after his birth, viz., when he was Mahauthata and Wethandra. In
the first, he came into this world holding in his hands a small
plant, which a Nat had brought and placed in his tender hands at
that very moment. He showed it to his mother, who asked him
what it was. "This is a medicinal plant," replied he, to his
astonished mother. The plant was cast into a large jar full of
water, and the virtualised liquid ever retained the power of
curing every kind of bodily distemper. When he was born, or
rather began the existence in which he was called Wethandra, he
stretched out his hands asking something from his mother which
he might bestow on the needy. The mother put at his disposal one
thousand pieces of silver.

Thirty-two mighty wonders had proclaimed the incarnation of Phralaong in his mother's womb, and the same number of wonders announced his birth to the earth. Moreover, in that same moment were born the beautiful Yathaudara, Ananda, the son of Amitaudana, the noblemen Tsanda and Kaludari, and the horse Kantika. The great tree Bodi also sprung from the ground, in the forest of Oorouwela, about two youdzanas distant from the city of Radzagio, and in a north-easterly direction from that place, and the four golden vases suddenly reappeared.

The inhabitants of Dewah, joining those of Kapilawot, set out for the latter country with the newly-born infant, to whom they rendered the greatest honours. The Nats of the seat of Tawadeintha, on hearing that a son was born to King Thoodaudana, and that under the shade of the tree Bodi[5] he would become a true Buddha with a perfect knowledge of the four great truths, gave full vent to their boundless joy, hoisting unfurled flags and banners in every direction, in token of their indescribable rejoicings.

There was a celebrated Rathee, named Kaladewila, who had passed through the eight degrees of contemplation, and who was in the habit of resorting daily to the prince's palace for his food. On that very day, having taken his meal as usual, he ascended to the seat of Tawadeintha,[6] and found the fortunate inhabitants of that seat giving themselves up to uncommon rejoicings. He asked them the reason of such an unusual display of enrapturing transports of exultation. "It is," replied they to the inquiring Rathee, "because a son is born to King Thoodaudana, who will soon become a true Buddha. Like all former Buddhas, he will preach the law and exhibit in his person and throughout his life the greatest wonders and a most accomplished pattern of the highest virtues. We will hear the law from his very mouth."

On hearing the answer of the Nats, Kaladewila immediately left the seat of Tawadeintha, and directed his aerial course towards the palace of Thoodaudana. Having entered into the palace and occupied the place prepared for him, he conveyed to the king the good tidings of a son having been born unto him.

A few days after this message, the royal child was brought into the presence of his rejoicing father. Kaladewila was present on the occasion. Thoodaudana ordered that the child should be attired with the finest dress, and placed in the presence of the Rathee, in order to pay him his respects. But the child rose up and set his two feet on the curled hair of the venerable personage. The persons present on the occasion, not knowing that a Buddha in his last existence never bows down to any being, thought that the head of the imprudent child would be split into seven parts as a punishment for his unbecoming behaviour. But Kaladewila, rising up from his seat, and lifting up his hands to his forehead, bowed respectfully to the infant Phralaong. The king, astonished at such an unusual condescension from so eminent a personage, followed his example, and out of respect prostrated himself before his son.

By virtue of his great spiritual attainments, Kaladewila could recollect at once all that had taken place during the forty preceding worlds, and foresee all that would happen during the same number of future revolutions of nature. On seeing the high perfections shining forth in our Phralaong, he considered attentively whether he would become a Buddha or not. Having ascertained that such a dignity was reserved for him, he wished to know if the remaining period of his own existence would permit him to witness the happy moment when he would be a Buddha. To his deep regret, he foresaw that the end of his life would come before the occurrence of that great event, and that he would have then migrated to one of the seats of Arupa, and be, therefore, deprived of the favour of hearing the law from his mouth. This foresight caused a profound sadness in his heart, and abundant tears flowed from his eyes. But when he reflected on the future destiny of the blessed child, he could not contain within himself the pure joy that overflowed his soul. The people present on the occasion soon observed the opposite emotions which alternately affected the soul of Kaladewila. They asked him the reason of such an unusual occurrence. "I rejoice," said he, "at the glorious destiny of that child; but I feel sad and disconsolate when I think that it will not be given to me to see and contemplate him clothed with the dignity of Buddha. I bewail with tears my great misfortune."

With a view of assuaging his sorrow, Kaladewila, casting another glance towards future events, eagerly sought to discover if, among his relatives, there would not be at least one who would be so fortunate as to see Phralaong in the nature of Buddha. He saw with inexpressible delight that his nephew Nalaka would enjoy the blessing denied to himself. Thereupon he went in all haste to his sister's house, inquiring about her son. At his request the lad was brought into his presence. "Beloved nephew," said the venerable Rathee, "thirty-five years hence,[7] the son of King Thoodaudana will become a Buddha; you will contemplate him in that sublime and exalted nature. From this day, therefore, you shall embrace the profession of Rahan." The young man, who descended from a long succession of wealthy noblemen, said within himself, "My uncle, indeed, never says anything but under the impulse of irresistible and cogent motives. I will follow his advice and will become a recluse." He immediately ordered the purchase of the insignia of his new profession, a patta, a thingan,[8] and other articles. His head was shaved, and he put on the yellow garb. Attired in his new dress, he looked all round, and saw that, amongst all beings, the Rahans are by far the most excellent. Then turning towards the place which Phralaong occupied, he prostrated himself five successive times in that direction, rose up, placed the patta in its bag, threw it over his shoulder, and directed his steps towards the solitude of Himawonta, where he devoted himself to all the exercises of his profession. At the time Phralaong became a Buddha, our hermit went to that great master, learnt from him the works that lead to the state of perfect stability of mind, returned back to his solitude, and attained to the perfection of Rahanda by the practice of the eminent works. Seven months after his return, the end of his existence arrived, when, disentangled from all the ties that had hitherto kept him in the world of passions, he reached the happy state of Neibban.

FOOTNOTES

[1] This country of Dewah is one of the sixteen countries, so
much celebrated in the Buddhistic annals, where the greatest
religious events have taken place. They are placed in the
centre, north, and north-west portions of Hindustan. In this
place was born the celebrated Dewadat, who became brother-in-law
to Buddha himself. But notwithstanding the close ties of
relationship that united him to so saintly a personage, Dewadat
is represented as the incarnation of evil, ever opposed to
Buddha in his benevolent designs in favour of human kind. At
last, in an attempt against his brother-in-law's life, he met
with a condign punishment. The earth burst open under his feet,
and, surrounded by devouring flames, he rolled down to the
bottom of the lowest hell, acknowledging, however, in the
accents of a true but tardy repentance, his errors and the
unconquerable power of Buddha. Three red-hot iron bars transfix
him perpendicularly, hanging him in an erect position, whilst
three other bars pierce him through the shoulders and the side.
For his repentance he is to be delivered hereafter from those
torments, and restored to earth, in order to acquire merits that
may entitle him to a better place in future existences. Some
accounts mention that he is to become a Pietzega Buddha. This
story respecting Dewadat has given rise in Burmah to a very
strange misconception. The Burmese, with their usual
thoughtlessness, on hearing of the particulars respecting the
sufferings and mode of death of our Saviour, concluded that he
must have been no other but Dewadat himself, and that, for
holding opinions opposite to those of Buddha, he suffered such a
punishment. The writer was not a little surprised to find in the
writings of the old Barnabite missionaries a lengthened
confutation of this erroneous supposition.

[2] According to Buddhistic notions, Buddha labours during his
mortal career for the benefit of all living beings. His
benevolent and compassionate heart, free from all partiality,
feels an ardent desire of opening before them the way that leads
to deliverance from the miseries of every succeeding existence,
and of bringing them finally to the never troubled state of
Neibban. Such a generous and benevolent disposition constitutes
the genuine characteristic of Buddha. The Brahmas, inhabiting
the sixteen seats of Rupa, are all but ripe for obtaining the
crowning point of Buddhistic perfection. They only wait for the
presence of a Buddha to unloose, by his preachings, the slender
ties that keep them still connected with this material world.
The Nats, though far less advanced in merits and perfection,
eagerly look forward for the apparition of that great personage,
who is to point out to them the means of freeing themselves from
the influence of passions, and thereby destroying in them the
principle of demerits. Men, also, in their state of probation
and trial, want the mighty aid of a Buddha, who will enable them
by his transcendent doctrine to advance in merits, so as either
to arrive at once at the ever-quiescent state of Neibban, or
progress gradually on the way. Hence, on his birth, Buddha is
ministered to by those three sorts of intelligent beings, who
are particularly destined to share in the blessings his coming
is designed to shower on them.

The mission of a Buddha is that of a saviour. His great object,
to make use of a Buddhistic expression, is, during his
existence, to procure the deliverance of all the beings that
will listen to his instructions and observe the precepts of the
law. He is distinguished by feelings of compassion and an ardent
love for all beings, as well as by an earnest desire of
labouring for their welfare. These are the true characteristics
of his heart. In this religious system mention is often made of
Pitzegabuddhas, who have all the science and merits of a Buddha,
but they are deficient in the above-mentioned qualities, which
form, as it were, the essence of a true and genuine Buddha. They
are never therefore honoured with the noble appellation of
Buddha.

[3] The Chinese, Cochin-Chinese, Cingalese, and Nepaulese
Legends all agree in attributing to Phralaong the use of reason
from the moment he was born, as well as the power of uttering
with a proud accent the following words: "I am the greatest of
all beings; this is my last existence." To his own eyes he must
have appeared in this world without any competitor, since he
knew already that he was destined to release countless beings
from the trammels of existence, and lead them to a state of
perfect rest, screened for ever from the incessant action of
merits and demerits. He alone whose mind is deeply imbued with
Buddhistic notions can boast exultingly that he has at length
arrived at his last existence, and that, within a few years, he
will escape out of the whirlpool of endless existences, wherein
he has been turning and fluctuating from a state of happiness to
one of wretchedness. This perpetual vicissitude is to him the
greatest evil, the opposite of which is, therefore, the greatest
good. No wonder, then, to hear our Phralaong, who was better
acquainted with the miseries attending existence than any one
else, exclaiming with the accents of a complete joy--"This is my
last existence."

The Burmese translator seems delighted to remark that on two
former occasions Phralaong, then an infant, had spoken distinct
words, which he addressed to his mother. This happened in the
beginning of the two existences during which he practised two of
the ten great virtues. It took place first on the day he was
born to that existence, when, under the name of Mahauthata, he
displayed consummate skill and wisdom. The legend of Mahauthata
is a very amusing performance, written in a very pure language,
and relating stories about as credible as those we read in the
Arabian Tales of a Thousand and One Nights. What surprised the
writer not a little, was to find, in perusing that composition,
a decision given by our Mahauthata, in a case perfectly similar
to that which showed forth, in the presence of all Israel, the
incomparable wisdom of Solomon. When Phralaong practised the
last and most perfect of virtues, liberality, carried to its
farthest limits, ending in perfect abnegation of self, and
renouncing all that he possessed, he entered, too, into this
world with the faculty of speech, and became a prince under the
name of Wethandra. The legend of Wethandra is by far the best of
all. Taking it as a mere romance, it is replete with
circumstantial details well calculated to excite the finest
emotions of the heart. The latter part, in particular, can
scarcely be read without heart-moving feelings of pity and
commiseration, on beholding our Phralaong parting willingly with
all his property, with his wife and his lovely children, and
finally offering his own person, to satisfy the ever-renewed
calls on his unbounded generosity.

[4] In Burmah the use of the white umbrella is limited to the
king and idols. The former can never move without having some
one to hold over his head this distinguishing mark of royalty.
Any one who has been introduced into the palace of Amerapoora
will not have forgotten how great was his satisfaction on
beholding the white umbrella towering above the sides of
passages, and moving in the direction he was sitting in. He knew
that the time of his expectation was at an end, and that in a
moment he would behold the golden face.

[5] In glancing over the genealogy of the twenty-eight last
Buddhas, the writer has observed that every Buddha has always
obtained the supreme intelligence under the shadow of some
trees. Our Phralaong, as will be seen hereafter, attained to the
exalted dignity of Buddha under the tree Baudhi (_ficus
religiosa_), which grew up spontaneously at the very moment he
was born. The writer has never been able to discover any
well-grounded reason to account for this remarkable
circumstance, so carefully noted down, relating the particulars
attending the elevation of a being to this high station. For
want of a better one, he will be permitted to hazard the
following conjecture. Our Phralaong, previous to his becoming a
Buddha, withdrew into solitude for the purpose of fitting
himself for his future calling, in imitation of all his
predecessors, leading an ascetic life, and devoting all his
undivided attention and mental energies to meditation and
contemplation, coupled with works of the most rigorous
mortification. The senses, he knew well, were to be submitted to
the uncontrolled sway of reason, by allowing to himself only
what was barely requisite for supporting nature. Regardless of
every comfort, his mind was bent upon acquiring the sublime
knowledge of the principle and origin of all things, on
fathoming the miseries of all beings, and on endeavouring to
discover the most efficacious means of affording them a thorough
relief, by pointing out to them the road they had to follow in
order to disentangle themselves from the trammels of existence,
and arrive at a state of perfect rest. In common with all other
ascetics, our Phralaong had no other shelter against the
inclemency of the seasons but the protecting shadow of trees. It
was under the cooling and refreshing foliage of the trees of the
forests, that he spent his time in the placid and undisturbed
work of meditation, acquiring gradually that matchless knowledge
and consummate wisdom which he needed for carrying on to
perfection the benevolent undertaking he had in contemplation.

[6] It is a maxim generally received amongst Buddhists, that
he who has far advanced in the way of perfection acquires
extraordinary privileges both in his soul and his body. The
latter obtains a sort of spiritualised nature, or rather matter
becomes so refined and purified that he is enabled to travel
over distances with almost the rapidity of the thought of the
mind. The former, by the help of continual meditation on the
causes and nature of all things, enlarges incessantly its sphere
of knowledge. The remembrance of the past revives in the mind.
From the lofty position such a being is placed in, he calmly
considers and watches the movement of events that will take
place in future times. The more his mind expands, and the sphere
of his knowledge extends, the greater are the perfections and
refinements attending the coarser part of his being.

[7] According to the prophecy of Kaladewila, Phralaong is to
become Buddha when thirty-five years old. The total duration of
his life being eighty years, it follows that he has lived as
Buddha forty-five years. The advice of the old Rathee to his
nephew Nalaka, to become a Rahan in order to better dispose
himself to welcome the coming of Buddha, and listen with greater
benefit to his preachings, leads me to make a remark and write
down an observation that has been already alluded to. From this
passage and many others which the reader will easily notice
hereafter, as well as from the example of Buddha himself, one
must suppose that at the time Phralaong was born, some
institutions, the most important one at least, viz., that of the
Rahans, recluses, or monks, already existed in a more or less
perfect state. Relying solely on the authority of this Legend,
no attempt at denying this supposition can ever be made.
Kaladewila speaks of the order of Rahans as of a thing well
known. Nalaka sends to the bazaar for the purchase of the dress
and other articles he wanted for his new mode of life.
Phralaong, on his way to his garden, sees a Rahan, whose habits
and manners are described to him by his coachman. Having become
Buddha, he meets with ascetics and recluses living in community,
leading a life much resembling that which he is supposed to have
hereafter instituted, holding but few opinions, which, according
to his own standard, were heretical. From these facts flows the
natural conclusion that Gaudama is not the inventor or
originator of all the Buddhistic disciplinary institutions. He
found among the multifarious sects of Brahminism many practices
and ordinances which he approved of and incorporated or embodied
in his new system. This is another proof, amounting to a
demonstration, that Buddhism is an offshoot of the great Hindu
system. In this respect, Gaudama borrowed largely from what he
found existing in his own days, in the schools he resorted to,
and re-echoed many tenets upheld by the masters under whom he
studied the sciences and the training to morals and virtue. He
enlarged and developed certain favourite theories and principles
which had found favour with him; at the same time, for the
purpose of leading his disciples to perfection, he enforced many
disciplinary regulations, almost similar to those he had been
subjected to during the years of his probation. He was certainly
an ardent promoter of the perfected and improved system he
endeavoured to introduce.

[8] The Thingan or Tsiwaran is composed of three parts--the
thinbaing, resembling an ample petticoat, bound up to the waist,
with a leathern girdle, and falling down to the heels; the
kowot, which consists of a sort of cloak of a rectangular shape,
covering the shoulders and breast, and reaching somewhat below
the knee; and the dougout, which is a piece of cloth of the same
shape, folded many times, thrown over the left shoulder when
going abroad, and used to sit on when no proper seat has been
prepared. The colour of these three pieces, constituting the
dress of a recluse, is invariably yellow. The jack-tree supplies
the material for dyeing the cloth yellow. In order to maintain a
spirit of perfect poverty among the members of the order of the
recluse, the Wini prescribes that the tsiwaran ought to be made
up with rags picked up here and there, and sewed together. The
rule, in this respect, at least as far as its spirit goes, is
thoroughly disregarded, and has become almost a dead letter.

The hairs of the head and the beard, being too often objects
which vanity turns to its own purposes, are, to say the least,
mere superfluities. A stern contemner of worldly things must, of
course, do away with things which may prove temptations to him,
or at least afford him unnecessary trouble. Hence no layman can
ever aspire to become a Rahan unless he has previously submitted
to the operation of a complete shaving of the head, including
even the eye-brows.