[1] In glancing over the episode of Thoodaudana's deputation to his son, to invite him to come and visit his native country, the reader is almost compelled to confess that the motive that influenced the king was only inspired by the natural feeling of beholding once more, before he died, him whose fame, spread far and wide, rendered him an object of universal admiration. Was the monarch induced by considerations of a higher order to send for Buddha? There is no distinct proof in support of this supposition. He was his father, and he but obeyed and followed the impulse of his paternal heart. He entertained a high sense of his son's distinguished qualifications. He had faith in the wonderful signs foretelling his future matchless greatness. He desired, therefore, to honour him in an extraordinary way, on the very spot where he had been born. But he appeared to concern himself very little about the doctrines he was preaching with a success never before equalled. The king exhibited a great amount of worldly-mindedness, until his mind had been enlightened by the oral instructions of the great reformer.
It is difficult, if not impossible, to form an accurate idea of the effect produced on the mass of the people by Buddha's preachings. We see that eminent and zealous reformer surrounded by thousands of distinguished disciples in the country of Radzagio. These converts belonged chiefly to the class of anchorites and philosophers, already alluded to in foregoing notes as existing at the time Buddha began to enter the career of preaching. But the great bulk of the populations of the various places he visited seemed to have received for a long time little or no impressions from his discourses. The opponents of Buddha, the Brahmins in particular, exercised a powerful influence over the public mind. They used it most effectually for retaining their ancient hold over the masses. It required the extraordinary display of the greatest wonders to break through the almost insuperable barriers raised by his enemies. From that period we see the people following Buddha, crowding round him, and showing unmistakable signs of belief in him.
The only explanation to account for this undeniable result is the philosophical method adopted by Buddha in expounding the principles of his system. His mode of proceeding in the gradual development of his ideas retained the abstruseness peculiar to subjects discussed in schools of philosophy. The technical terms so familiar to scholars prove enigmatical to the uninitiated vulgus. It takes a long time before maxims elaborated by scholars are so far popularised as to be understood by the unlearned, which in every age and country have always constituted the great mass of the people. If the mind of the generality of men is unable to comprehend at first a system of doctrines, based on metaphysics, we cannot wonder at the slow progress made by the preachings of the great philosopher: but the working of wonders is a tangible fact operating upon the senses of the multitude, eliciting their applauses, and disposing them to yield an implicit faith to all the instructions imparted by the wonderful being that is gifted with supernatural powers. Feelings, and not reason, become the foundation of a belief which grows stronger in proportion to the mysterious obscurity that encompasses the proposed dogmas, when supported by wonderful deeds.
At the time Thoodaudana sent messengers to his son, the great work of conversion was carried on with a most complete and hitherto unheard-of success. The hall of the Weloowon monastery was too small for the thousands that flocked thither to hear Gaudama. Outside its precincts, crowds stood motionless, listening with unabated attention to the discourses that fell from his lips. So crowded was the audience that the messengers had no chance to make their way to the presence of the preacher. Struck with the intense attention paid to what was said by their master's son, they too wished to make themselves acquainted with the subjects of the instruction. What was listened to from motives of mere curiosity, soon made a deep impression upon their mind. The magic power of the irresistible eloquence of Buddha worked a thorough change almost instantaneously in their dispositions, and they became converts. So perfect was their conversion, that they forgot for the sake of truth the very object of their mission. They became at once members of the Assembly, and took rank among the Rahans. They attained the state of Ariahs, and were foremost among the perfect. The great attainments arrived at by the Ariahs communicate to the material portion of their being such an extraordinary amount of amazing virtues or properties, that it becomes so refined as to partake, to a certain degree, of a spiritual nature. Hence we see the Rahandas going over immense distances through the air, and performing deeds of a supernatural order. The power of working miracles is, therefore, inherent in perfection; and it is greater or smaller in proportion to the degree of perfection possessed by individuals. We find that power expanded in Buddha to an unlimited extent, because his mental attainments were boundless.
[2] Magatha is a country in the north of India. It occupied nearly the same extent of territory as that now called North Behar in Bengal. The Pali or sacred language of the southern Buddhists is often called the language of Magatha. Hence we may infer that it was the common language of that country. It is probable that the Pali language was extensively spoken in the days of Gaudama, and it was the channel through which he and his disciples long after him conveyed their religious instructions to the multitude of converts. The Pitagat, or the last amended collection of sacred writings, is written in Pali, which is looked upon in Ceylon, Nepaul, Burmah, and Siam as the language of sacred literature. Except in some old manuscripts, where the old square Pali letters are used, the Burmese employ their common alphabetic characters for writing Pali words. The words, having to pass first through a Burmese ear, and next being expressed by Burmese letters, undergo great changes. To such an extent does the metamorphosis reach, that very often they are scarcely recognisable. The Burmans, however, deserve great credit for having, in very many instances, retained in their orthography of Pali words letters which, though not at all sounded, indicate to the eye the nature of the word, its origin, and its primitive form.
In the southern parts of Burmah the Pali language is learned but not studied, used, but not understood by the inmates of monasteries. They are all obliged to learn certain formulas of prayers to be daily recited in private, and, on great and solemn occasions, to be chanted aloud in the presence of a crowd of pious hearers. The writer, anxious to acquire some knowledge of the sacred language, often visited those monks, who, among their brethren, enjoyed a certain fame for learning, with the express intention of becoming a humble student, under the direction of one of the best informed of the society. He was thoroughly disappointed to find those who proffered their services in great earnest quite ignorant, and utterly incapable of giving him the least assistance.
The Burmese have translated in their vernacular tongue most of the sacred writings. In many instances the translation is not exactly what we call interlineary, but it approaches to it as nearly as possible. Two, three, or four Pali words are written down, and the translation in Burmese follows with a profusion of words which often confuses and perplexes the reader; then come again a few other Pali words, accompanied also with the translation, and so on throughout the whole work. The art of translating well and correctly from one language into another is not so common as many persons may imagine. In a good translator are required many qualifications which are not to be easily met with, particularly in a Burman, to whom we may give credit for knowing well his own tongue, but who, without detracting from his literary attainments, is certainly an indifferent Pali scholar. These translations may convey, perhaps, the general meaning of the original, but, as regards the correct meaning of each term, it is a luxury ever denied to the reader of such crude and imperfect compositions.
[3] It is difficult to ascertain exactly the length of the measure called youdzana, formerly used to indicate land distances. It varies from five to twelve English miles. In measuring the distance from Radzagio to the Brahmin village of Nalanda, the birthplace of Thariputra, which is one youdzana, General Cunningham has found it to be seven miles. This would induce us to hold as certain that at the epoch when Fa-Hian visited the place, the youdzana was equal to seven miles or forty Chinese li. But this would not prove that the more ancient youdzana was not shorter than the one used in the time of the Chinese pilgrim. Several authors maintain that such is the case. It appears, likewise, that the length of that measure of distance has varied with localities and places to such an extent that it has been found in some countries to be equal to more than twelve miles. We believe that when that measure of distance is mentioned in this work, one would not be far from the truth in estimating its length six or seven English miles at the utmost.
[4] The attentive reader of this work cannot fail to remark the general tendencies of Buddhism to isolation, retirement, and solitude. In a retired position, the mind is less distracted or dissipated by exterior objects; it possesses a greater share of self-control, and is fitter for the arduous work of attentive reflection and deep meditation. Whenever Buddha, attended by his followers, reaches a place where he is to stay for a while, a grove outside the city is invariably selected. Thither the great preacher retires, as to a beloved solitude. He enjoys it beyond all that can be said. Alone with his spiritual family, unconcerned about the affairs of this world, he breathes at ease the pure atmosphere of a complete calm; his undisturbed soul soars freely in the boundless regions of spiritualism. What he has seen and discovered during his contemplative errands he imparts with a placid countenance and a mild voice to his disciples, endeavouring thereby to make them progress in the way of knowledge and perfection.
In those solitary abodes of peace Buddha was willing to receive all those who wished for instruction. They were all, without distinction of rank or caste, admitted into the presence of him who came professedly to point to men the way to happiness, helping them to disentangle themselves from the trammels of passions. He preached to all the most excellent law. The tendency to retreat and withdrawal from worldly tumult is, in our own days, conspicuous in the care taken by Buddhistic monks to have their houses built in some lonely quarter of a town, assigned exclusively for that special purpose, or, as is oftener the case, in fine places at a small distance from the walls. Some of those groves, in the centre of which rise the peaceful abodes of Rahans, the writer has often seen and much admired. In towns or large villages, where the ground is uneven, the small heights are generally crowned with the dwellings of religious.