ANOTHER WRONG TO BURMA.
BURMA’S SAD FINANCIAL STATE.
How unlikely we are to see them!) Perhaps of the two mistakes lack of interest is the less mischievous. Recently we have made a step in advance. Religious teaching in State schools has been permitted; all pupils may receive instruction in the creeds which they profess.
Sir Charles Bernard recognized the value of monastic influence, and did his best to enlist it on the side of law and order. It was particularly desirable that monks should be discouraged from taking part in political agitation. It was also hoped that the monastic system of education might be maintained and strengthened in sympathy with our own Education Department. At the time of the annexation the Thathanabaing was a weak but well-meaning person who had been King Thebaw’s tutor. The Chief Commissioner interviewed him in person and essayed to excite his enthusiasm for the new Government. In recognition of the part taken by monks in secular education, monthly gifts of rice were sent to the Thathanabaing and his trusted counsellors, the Pă-kán and Hladwe Sadaws. The Thathanabaing was induced to visit Rangoon with a view to the extension of his authority over Lower Burma. Government provided for his journey, which was made in some state with a long train of monks. He was received with rapture at Prome and in Rangoon; and a rest-house (zayat) for him and his successors was built on the slope of the Shwe Dagôn Pagoda. The effort was ineffectual. Neither that Thathanabaing nor his successors have exercised any power in Lower Burma, which still remains in a state of reprobation. Another attempt was made to conciliate Buddhist sympathy. Many monasteries and other religious buildings had been used by troops and others for Government purposes, and some damage had been done. All over the country monks had hospitably received and entertained our officers, and had raised no objection to the necessary temporary use of sacred buildings. As a compensation for disturbance and damage, a substantial sum of money was disbursed to a large number of monks. As monks may not touch gold or silver, the actual coins were placed in the hands of lay followers. These well-meant efforts had, I fear, no appreciable effect. The Thathanabaing had not the authority, even if he had the will, to control and direct his monks by moral force alone. Monks were civil to British officers, often glad to have the protection of a military post; but they did not go out of their way to preach submission to an heretical Government. It is hardly to be expected that they would do so.
The Thatha-na-baing.
After this Thathanabaing had condescended to return, as runs the Burmese euphemism for the death of a monk, it was some years before Government made up its mind as to the appointment of a successor. No one could lawfully be Thathanabaing unless appointed by the ruling power. But it was contrary to established principle for Government to appoint a Buddhist ecclesiastic. For some years the monastic world was given up to anarchy. At last it was decided that, though Government could not appoint, it might recognize; and though it could not give material aid, it might lend moral support. To ascertain the monk who would be generally acceptable, an election was held. This device has now been adopted on two or three occasions, so that people have begun to believe that it was always customary. The last two holders of the office have been formally recognized by the Government of Burma; the present Thathanabaing received a sanad[182] from the Lieutenant-Governor. He is a monk of learning, and particular suavity of manner and disposition. While maintaining due reserve and dignity, he has always been on excellent terms with Government and its officers. He has loyally exercised his influence on the side of law and order, and has tried to smooth the path of the Education Department, anxious to link the monastic with the Government system. Without posing as liberal or progressive, he has been wise and conciliatory. In later years my personal relations with the Thathanabaing were extremely cordial. Once he honoured me by his presence at a garden-party in Mandalay. This was, I think, an unprecedented occasion. On the lovely lawn fringing the moat he sat, surrounded by yellow-robed counsellors, the centre of a picturesque circle, watched with reverence by Burmese, with respectful interest by European and Indian, guests. Among my most treasured possessions is a rosary which he sent me, with a charming farewell letter, when I left the Province.
The order of Buddhist nuns must not be forgotten. They are comparatively few in number, and, though regarded with respect, do not seem to exercise special influence. Living sometimes in seclusion, sometimes in communities, they occupy no prominent place. Their lives are spent in meditation and devotion, free from secular cares. Often when stricken by a great sorrow a woman becomes a nun, and adheres to her profession for the rest of her life. Innocent, harmless ladies, if they are not active in good works their passive piety is a gracious example. A nun whom you meet in the road has a pleasing habit of invoking a blessing as you pass.