Burmah and the Burmese

by Kenneth R. H. Mackenzie

“Among these books,” says Sangermano, “the one called Aporazabon deserves to be placed the first; it is a species of romance, in which the principal character is Aporazà, an old minister, to whom the emperor, and several mandarins, put a number of questions on the science of government. To give my readers some idea of this work, I will here translate some extracts.[140]

“One day the emperor asked Aporazà what he meant to do to render his kingdom flourishing and populous; the old minister replied, that, in the first place, he must have the success of all his subjects in their affairs at heart, as much as if they were his own. 2. He should diminish the taxes and ciochi. 3. In putting on imposts he should have regard to the means of his subjects. 4. He must be liberal. 5. He must frequently inquire into the affairs of his kingdom, and make himself fully acquainted with them. 6. He must love and esteem his good and faithful servants. 7. Finally, he should show courtesy and affability, both in his manners and words, to all persons. He ought, moreover, to take measures that the population of his kingdom is augmented, and that his government acquire honour and respect among foreign nations; he should not molest the rich, but, on the contrary, should encourage their industry and promote their interests; he should show a proper regard to his generals and ministers, who govern in the name of the emperor, for it is not seemly that they should be publicly disregarded and ill-treated; he should not despise prudent and careful men; and, finally, he should be just and moderate in exacting tributes, and should always proportion them to the products of agriculture and commerce. As a confirmation of this precept, he refers to the fruits of the earth, when eaten before they are ripe. ‘You see,’ he says, ‘that the fruits which are gathered ripe from the tree, are well-flavoured and pleasant to the taste; but when they are plucked before they have ripened, they are insipid, and sour, and bitter. Rice that is taken at its proper season is excellent food, but if it is collected before its time, it is devoid of substance and nutriment.’ He then advises the emperor not to shut up his kingdom; that is to say, that he ought to allow all foreign merchants a free entrance, to encourage their commerce, and make it flourish.... Another time, when two petty kings had declared war against each other, they both had recourse to the Burmese monarch for assistance. According to his custom, the emperor sent for Aporazà, who spoke thus on the occasion:—‘It once happened that two cocks of equal strength began fighting in the presence of a countryman; after continuing their combat for some time, they were so overcome by their exertions, that they were unable to do anything more, when the countryman sprang upon them, and made himself master of them both. Thus ought you, O king! to do at present. Let these two princes fight with each other till you see that their resources are exhausted, and then, pouncing upon them, seize upon their territories for yourself.’

“A man of mean extraction was raised by the efforts of an old mandarin to the throne. But the mandarin afterwards became overbearing, and even tried to be in some measure the master of the emperor. The latter bore all this for some time, but at length, growing weary of this insolence, he determined to rid himself of his importunate minister. Wherefore, one day that he was surrounded by a number of his mandarins, among whom was the one who had raised him to the throne, he directed his discourse to him, and asked him what they do with the zen, which are erected round the pagodas, after the gilding and painting are finished, for which they were raised; for the zen is a scaffolding of bamboo, or thick cane, serving to support the gilders and painters of the pagodas. ‘They are taken down and carried away,’ replied the old mandarin, ‘that they may not obstruct the view of the pagoda, or spoil its beauty.’

“‘Just so,’ replied the monarch, ‘I have made use of you to ascend the throne, as the gilders and painters make use of the zen; but now that I am firmly seated in it, and am obeyed as emperor by all, and respected by all, you are become useless to me, or rather your presence only disturbs my peace.’ He then drove him from his palace, and sent him in banishment to a village. One day, while this mandarin was yet in banishment, a dreadful tempest arose; in the course of which, looking out into the country, he observed that the great trees, which resisted the force of the wind, were not bent, but broken or torn up by its fury; while the grass and the canes, yielding before the blast, returned to their original position the moment it was gone by. ‘Oh,’ said the mandarin, within himself, ‘if I had followed the example of these canes and this grass, I should not now be in so miserable a condition.’”

Among a semi-civilised people (and look on them as we may, the Burmans are no more), superstition ever has a powerful, almost unassailable hold upon the public mind. The vague dread of future existence, the indefinable curiosity which tempts man to search, by his own endeavours, for the ultimate end of all his strivings on earth, is to be found more closely allied to a feeling of scientific appreciation among such a people than anywhere else. The imperfect comprehension of what is passing around, leads the untutored mind ever to trench on the supernatural world, of the existence of which he has an innate perception. But having no clear knowledge, unable perhaps to express his forebodings in a distinct and comprehensible manner, he runs to the priest, or the learned man, and, expecting a knowledge of futurity to be part of his learning, asks what the fate may be to which he is destined. The wise man, anxious to keep up a reputation for superior knowledge, invents something from the circumstances in which he knows the person to be placed. Subsequently he systematizes and arranges these notions, connecting them with the stars, those high and wonderful lights that unceasingly pass on in an ever-determined cycle above our heads. Such would seem to have been the origin of astrology.

Divination is universally credited by the Burmese, and Dr. Buchanan’s picture, so melancholy as showing to what extent priestcraft obtained among them in his time (and it is probably not much decreased in their estimation now), is too interesting to be omitted in this place:—

“No person will commence the building of a house, a journey, or the most trifling undertaking, without consulting some man of skill to find a fortunate day or hour. Friday is a most unlucky day, on which no business must be commenced. I saw several men of some rank, who had got from the king small boxes of theriac, or something like it, and which they pretended would render them invulnerable. I was often asked for medicines that would render the body impenetrable to a sword or musket-ball, and on answering that I knew of none such, my medical skill was held in very low estimation. Indeed, every Burman doctor has at the end of his book some charms, and what are called magical squares of figures, which he copies, and gives to be worn by his patients. And although these squares are all of uneven numbers, and consequently of the easiest construction, yet the ignorant multitude repose great confidence in their virtue. Some men, whom we saw, had small bits of gold or jewels introduced under the skin of their arms, in order to render themselves invulnerable; and the tattooing on the legs and thighs of the Burma men they not only think ornamental, but a preservative against the bite of snakes.”[141]

Cheiromancy and oneiromancy are in as great estimation as divination or amulets. With all their skill in astrology, which they practise to a great extent, they are very ignorant of astronomy, and Dr. Buchanan tells us, “Although they sometimes attempt to calculate eclipses, yet they pretend not to ascertain either the hour of their commencement or the extent of the obscuration.... It would indeed appear, from a treatise of Mr. Samuel Davis,[142] that the time of the full moon, and the duration of the eclipse, found by the rules given in the Surya Siddhanta, differ considerably from the truth; and that, although the rules given in the Siddhantá Rahasya, and other modern books, make a near approach, yet they are far from being correct; so that even the Brahmens of Hindustan are not much further advanced than those of Amarapura, notwithstanding the improvements they have introduced from time to time, perhaps as they were able gradually to procure a little better information from their conquerors, Mohammedans and Christians.”[143]

Sangermano has a few remarks on the subject of the superstitions of the Burmese, that it would not be inappropriate to transfer to these pages.[144]

“The Burmese possess a large volume containing a full account of all their superstitious observances, and of the different omens of good or evil fortune to be drawn from an immense number of objects,—as from the wood with which their houses are built, from their boats and carriages, from the aspects of the sun, moon, and planets, from the howling of dogs, and the singing of birds, &c., and also from the involuntary movements of the members of one’s own body. We will here translate some portions of this book, as specimens of the superstitions which paganism conducts to.