[8] Bells are common in Burmah, and the people of that country are well acquainted with the art of casting them. Most of the bells to be seen in the pagodas are of small dimensions, and differing in shape somewhat from those used in Europe. The inferior part is less widened, and there is a large hole in the centre of the upper part. No tongue is hung in the interior, but the sound is produced by striking with a horn of deer or elk the outward surface of the lower part. No belfry is erected for the bells; they are fixed on a piece of timber, laid horizontally, and supported at its two extremities by two posts, at such a height that the inferior part of the bell is raised about five feet above the ground.
The largest specimens of Burmese art in casting bells of great weight are the two bells to be seen, the one in the large pagoda of Rangoon, called Shway Dagon, and the other at Mingon, about twelve or fifteen miles north of Amerapoura, on the western bank of the Irrawaddy. The first, in the town of Rangoon, was cast in 1842, when King Tharawaddy visited the place, with the intention of founding a new city, more distant from the river, and nearer to the mount upon which rises the splendid Shway Dagon. In its shape and form it exactly resembles the kind of bells above described. Here are some particulars respecting that large piece of metal, collected from the inscription to be seen upon it. It was cast on the fifth day of the full moon of Tabodwai (February), 1203 of the Burmese era. The weight of metal is 94,682 lbs.; its height 9½ cubits; its diameter 5 cubits; its thickness 20 fingers or 15 inches. But during the process of melting, the well-disposed came forward and threw in copper, silver, and gold in great quantities. It is supposed, says the writer of the inscription, that in this way the weight was increased one-fourth.
The bell of Mingon was cast in the beginning of this century. In shape and form it resembles our bells in Europe. It is probable that some foreigner residing at Ava suggested the idea of giving such an unusual form to that monumental bell. Its height is 18 feet, besides 7 feet for hanging apparatus. It has 17 feet in diameter, and from 10 to 12 inches in thickness. Its weight is supposed to exceed two hundred thousand English pounds.
In the interior large yellowish and greyish streaks indicate that considerable quantities of gold and silver had been thrown in during the process of melting. No idea can at present be had of the power of the sound of that bell, as its enormous weight has caused the pillars that support it partially to give way. To prevent a fatal disaster, the orifice of the bell has been made to rest on large short posts, sunk in the ground and rising about three feet above it. In no respect can these bells bear any comparison with those of Europe. They are mightily rough and rude attempts at doing works on a scale far surpassing the abilities of native workmen, who otherwise succeed tolerably well in casting the comparatively small bells commonly met with in the courtyards of pagodas.
[9] One of the genuine characters of Buddhism is correctly exhibited in this observation of Phralaong's respecting fasts, mortifications, and other self-inflicted penances. They are not looked upon as the immediate way leading to perfection, nor as a portion or a part of perfection itself. Such deeds are but means resorted to for weakening passions and increasing the power of the spiritual principle over the natural one: they are preparatory to the great work of meditation or the study of truth, which is the only high-road to perfection. To the sage that has already begun the laborious task of investigating truth, such practices are of no use, and are nowhere insisted on as necessary, or even useful. In the book of discipline, no mention is made of them. The life of the initiated is one of self-denial; all superfluities and luxuries are strictly interdicted; all that is calculated to minister to passions and pleasure is carefully excluded. But the great austerities and macerations practised by the religious of the Brahminical sect are at once rejected by the Buddhist sages as unprofitable and unnecessary to them. The inmates of the Buddhist monasteries in our days are never seen indulging in those cruel, disgusting, and unnatural practices performed from time immemorial by some of their brethren of the Hindu persuasion. This constitutes one of the principal differences or discrepancies between the two systems. With the founder of Buddhism fasts and penitential deeds are of great concern to him who is as yet in the world, living under the tyrannical yoke of passions and the influence of the senses. By him they are viewed as powerful auxiliaries in the spiritual warfare for obtaining the mastery over passions. This point once gained, the sage can at once dispense with their aid as being no longer required. The follower of the Hindu creed looks upon those practices as per se eminently meritorious and capable of leading him to perfection; hence the mania for carrying those observances to a degree revolting to reason, and even to the plain good sense of the people.
CHAPTER V.
Thoodzata's offering to Phralaong—His five dreams—He shapes his course towards the gniaong tree—Miraculous appearance of a throne—Victory of Phralaong over Manh Nat—His meditations during forty-nine days near the Bodi tree—He at last obtains the perfect science—He overcomes the temptation directed against him by the daughters of Manh—Buddha preaches the law to a Pounha and to two merchants.
At that time, in the solitude of Oorouwela, there lived in a village a rich man, named Thena. He had a daughter named Thoodzata. Having attained the years of puberty, she repaired to a place where there was a gniaong tree, and made the following prayer to the Nat guardian of the place[1]:—"If I marry a husband that will prove a suitable match, and the first fruit of our union be a male child, I will spend annually in alms deeds 100,000 pieces of silver, and make an offering at this spot." Her prayer was heard, and its twofold object granted. When Phralaong had ended the six years of his fasting and mortification, on the day of the full moon of the month Katson, Thoodzata was preparing to make her grateful offering to the Nat of the place. She had been keeping one thousand cows in a place abounding with sweet vines; the milk of those thousand was given to five hundred cows; these again fed with their own milk two hundred and fifty others, and so on, in a diminishing proportion, until it happened that sixteen cows fed eight others with their milk. So these eight cows gave a milk, rich, sweet, and flavoured beyond all description.
On the day of the full moon of Katson,[2] Thoodzata rose at an early hour to make ready her offering, and disposed everything that the cows should be simultaneously milked. When they were to be milked, the young calves of their own accord kept at a distance; and as soon as the vessels were brought near, the milk began to flow in streams from the udders into the vessels. She took the milk and poured it into a large caldron, set on the fire which she had herself kindled. The milk began to boil; bubbles formed on the surface of the liquid, turned on the right and sunk in, not a single drop being spilt out; no smoke arose from the fireplace. Four kings of Nats watched about while the caldron was boiling; the great Brahma kept open an umbrella