  Burma has been called the "Land of Pagodas," and nothing could be more true, for from Syriam, below Rangoon, to Myitkyina, in the far north, is one long succession of these beautiful temples. Not only on the river-banks do these pagodas crown the hills, but in every town and village throughout the country; and in many remote districts, far from present habitations, some shrine, however simple, has been raised. We have seen something of the great Shwe Dagon pagoda in Rangoon, but there are many others almost equally beautiful, if not so large: the exquisite Shwe Tsan Daw at Prome, the Arracan near Mandalay, while in old Pagan, Pegu, Moulmein, and a host of other places, are temples which one might well think could not be surpassed for beauty. I have told you that these pagodas are usually bell-shaped—a delicate and most elegant form of design, which gains very much in effect from the habit the Burmese have of building their temples on a hill, so that the gradually ascending ground, on the different levels of which the pinnacles of the "kyoungs" are visible above the trees, leads gradually upward from one point to another until the temple itself is reached, towering gracefully above And, then, the little bells which hang from every "ti"—how they tinkle as they swing in the breeze, in their numbers forming one general harmonious note, most musical, and with a strange sensation of joy and contentment in its sound. These little bells are not the only ones in the temples, however, for in all of them are others of very large size, which, raised a foot or more from the ground, hang between two posts set in the platform which surrounds the "zedi," as the bell-shaped temple is called. These are used by the worshippers, who, with a stag's horn, strike the bell after praying, to call the attention of the "nats" of the upper and lower worlds to the fact that they have done so. You will see these bells in one of the pictures, but there are some others of immense size, that at Mingun weighing eighty tons; but, as a rule, the tone of the very large bells is poor, and not to be compared with that of those of more moderate size. There are one or two places in Burma particularly rich in pagodas—Pagan, Sagaing, and Mandalay. I want to tell you just a little about each. Let us go to Mandalay first, for I have no doubt that you have been wondering why I have not already told you something about the capital of Burma. As a matter of fact, Mandalay is little better than an enlarged village, and is built much in the same way as the towns I have already described, and has really only two points of great interest—its religious buildings and the "fort." I am referring, of course, to the Burmese town, for surrounding the fort are a large number of well-built bungalows, and streets of shops built of stone or brick; but these are for the use of Europeans and Indian or Chinese traders, the Burmans here, as elsewhere, contenting themselves with their thatched houses of timber. It may appear surprising that a people who could erect their marvellous temples should be satisfied with such poor dwellings. The reason is to be found in their custom of removing their capital on each change of dynasty, and since a.d. 1740 the capital of Burma has been moved no less than eight times! Mandalay itself is only fifty years old, so that it hardly appeared to them worth their while to build more substantial dwellings, which might so soon have to be deserted; and in this way they came to regard their homes as temporary, expending their energies and wealth in the building of temples and monasteries instead. The streets of Mandalay are wide, and laid out in rectangles, as in Rangoon, and, like all towns in Burma, the roads are heavily shaded by trees. Foreign types are common in Mandalay, but the Burmese life here is very pretty. Nowhere else are the people better All roads in Mandalay lead to the fort, lately the residence of the Court. This consists of a huge square, 1-1/4 miles each way, entirely surrounded by battlemented walls, and further protected by a wide and deep moat. Quaint bridges cross the moat, and lead to gateways, each surmounted by a "pyathat." Within the walls are the palace of the King, and many other buildings of highly ornate and purely Burmese character. Many of them have lately been destroyed by fire; but what will interest us most is the rambling but most picturesque palace, the lofty "pyathat" which is erected over Thebaw's throne being the finest in the country, All these buildings are of timber, only the finest teak being used, and the many columns which support the roofs of the halls of audience consist of single tree-trunks of unusual size and great value. The moat serves to supply Mandalay with its drinking-water, and is fed by a conduit from the hills. I am afraid the water is not very clean, but it is a very pretty sight to see the people coming to fill their jars from the little stages which jut from the banks, while the whole surface is at some seasons of the year a mass of purple lotus and white water-lily, and, although in the middle of the city, paddy-birds and other ibis wade about its margins. Mandalay is a station for our troops, who are quartered inside the fort, which was only captured after severe fighting. The stockade, which offered so great an obstacle to our men, has been swept away, and "Tommy Atkins," as well as Indian troops, now inhabit the palaces of King Thebaw's time! But it is an unhealthy station, and nowhere in Burma have I seen such crowds of mosquitoes, the common cause of fever in Europeans. The most beautiful of Mandalay's pagodas, "the Incomparable," has been destroyed by fire; but a large number remain, one of which is very interesting. This is the "Kuthodaw," a temple built by Mindon Min, King Thebaw's father. The central dome is not remarkable, but on each side of the large flagged space which surrounds it are rows and rows of miniature Each quarter of the town has one or more large pagodas, and others surround its outskirts from the river-bank to the top of Mandalay Hill; but these differ from the others we have noticed in one respect, being covered by carved plaster-work, each stage of which is beautified by some elaborate or striking pattern, so that the dome of pure white, broken by sharp contrast of light and shade, is quite as rich in effect as the gilded temples of Rangoon or Prome. Most remarkable of all the buildings in Mandalay, however, are the monasteries, of which there are a large number, many of great interest, the principal one being the "Queen's Golden Monastery," for beauty of design and elaborate embellishment unquestionably the finest structure of its kind in Burma. Across the river from Mandalay is a very pretty scene. Low conical hills rise from the banks of the river, each crowned by a pagoda, around which are many "kyoungs" and "zeyats." Scattered over the hill-sides are many others, gleaming white against the warm earth tints and the foliage which surround them. This is old Sagaing, once a capital of Burma; but the city has gone, and only its temples now remain. Crossing the river in sampans painted red, blue, and yellow, or landing on the pearly shingle of the beach, are crowds of well-dressed Burmans from Mandalay and Ava, bent A pretty legend gives the origin of these monsters, which, often of enormous size, invariably guard the entrance to a temple. Long ago in the dim past a Princess was stolen by "nats," and hidden away in the dark recesses of the forest. The King made every effort to find the hiding-place of his daughter, but without success, until one day a lioness rescued the Princess, and restored her to her home. Ever since then the lion, which in the course of centuries has gradually become changed into the leogryph (or half-lion, half-griffin), has been accepted by the people as the emblem of protecting watchfulness. Close to Mandalay on the south is Amarapura, another of Burma's many capitals, and though we cannot hope to see all the many interesting monuments that remain, it has one pagoda in particular which well repays us for our long and dusty journey. This is the Arracan pagoda, one of the most famous shrines in Burma, and the one most frequented by the Shans and other hill tribes, whose time of pilgrimage occurs "between the reaping and the sowing." There is no ascent to this temple, which, through a series of ornamented doorways, is approached by a long flat corridor, which, as usual, serves the purpose of a bazaar. Here perhaps the best Burmese gongs may be purchased, and the stalls for cut flowers display a rich profusion of blooms, whose scent fills the whole temple precincts. The temple itself is different in design from Beneath the central tower is the shrine, before which a constant stream of devotees succeed each other in prayer. This contains an enormous brass image of Buddha, 12 feet in height, thickly plastered with the pilgrims' offerings of gold-leaf. Behind the temple are the sacred tanks, whose green and slimy water is alive with turtles, too lazy or too well fed to eat the dainty morsels thrown to them by the onlookers, but which are pounced upon by hundreds of hawks, who often seize the tit-bits before they reach the water. The courtyards are, as usual, thronged, and pastry-cooks and story-tellers, soothsayers and musicians, provide refreshment and amusement to the ever-moving crowd of happy people, at whom we never tire of looking. And now, having seen something of the principal pagodas, with their crowds of worshippers or loiterers, let us take one glimpse of the ancient city of Pagan. Splendidly placed upon a commanding site on the river-bank, Pagan was at one time a populous and wealthy centre. To-day it is the city of the dead, and the domes and pinnacles of its temples, which cover an area of 16 square miles, remain silent monuments to its former greatness. Save for a few priests and scattered families of the poorest of the people, its population has disappeared centuries ago, and the land, once fertile, is now covered with aloe, cactus, and thorn, while an Many of its temples are of the greatest historical interest. The Ananda, built 800 years ago, is larger than St. Paul's, and its elongated dome and innumerable pinnacles render it as graceful as it is imposing. There are other temples even larger, while the picture facing page 80 will give you some little idea of the beauty and interest of the Shwe Zigon. Throughout the country temples abound, and in lonely places where no temple has been built, the lofty "tagundaing" marks some holy spot. You will find no statues to her Kings in Burma, but in every temple, in little wayside shrines, and even in the most unfrequented wilds, the Burmans have erected images of Buddha, founder of their faith. Nearly one-third of the world's population are Buddhists, and this fact alone would seem to show how beautiful is the religion they profess. Buddhism was founded by an Indian Prince called Gautama, about 600 years before the birth of Christ. This Prince, though heir to a kingdom, and surrounded by every luxury, left his palace and his beautiful wife and their little son, to become a wanderer in the search for truth, and for six years he lived as a hermit in the wilderness, attended only by a few disciples. One day, while seated beneath a "bo" tree, lost in contemplation, revelation came to him, and from that time he became Few Europeans really understand Buddhism, but many of its principles we can all appreciate. Thus, men are taught truthfulness, purity, obedience, and kindness, which forbids the giving of pain to any living creature. Charity, patience, humility, and the habit of meditation are early instilled into the minds of the boys, who, without exception, spend at least a portion of their lives as inmates of a monastery, and with the priests and novices are not ashamed to collect the daily offering of food. In their consideration for animals, their love for their children, and great respect for age, as well as in their consideration for each other, the Burmans act well up to the beauty of their faith; for a beautiful religion it is, beautifully expounded in Arnold's "Light of Asia," which I hope many of you will presently read. It is not difficult to understand how their religion, combined with their own happy, contented natures, and the enervating effect of climate, renders the Burmans little able to withstand the pressure from without which has lately been brought to bear upon them. Largely content with what Nature provides for them, and without social grades to spur them to ambition, their sports and races and amusements of many kinds occupy the chief attention of the men, who quickly succumb to their more energetic and businesslike rivals from India or China. The women, more capable and rather despising the idleness of the men, are more and more prone to marry among other races, while Sad it is to think that the Burman as a pure race is slowly disappearing, and there are few, I think, who know them but will view this prospect with sincere regret. But if it is inevitable that this picturesque and lovable people must be in time replaced by others, at least their beautiful country always will remain. And now, as I close this chapter, there recurs to my mind a pretty picture which embodies so much of the spirit of the country that it may well form our last peep at Burma. Far away in the jungle on the crest of a lonely hill stands a ruined pagoda. The white ornamental plaster-work which once beautified it has long since disappeared, and in the rents and fissures which seam its rich red brickwork venomous serpents hide. The niche which formerly contained a Buddha is unoccupied, but, as though to soften its decay, kindly creepers have covered its rugged exterior with a bower of foliage and flowers, while the leogryphs which once marked the entrance to its enclosure are buried in vegetation. All around are trees of many kinds, which tower above the jungle, among which large and beautiful butterflies flit among the flowers, while birds of gay plumage gambol among the tree-tops to the distant song of the bulbul. It was a pretty scene, but sad in its loneliness, to which a touch of pathos was added by the figure of a solitary priest praying before the empty shrine. Wondering what had brought him so far from any known habitation, I watched him long as he THE ENDLIST OF VOLUMES IN THEPEEPS AT MANY LANDSSERIESEACH CONTAINING 12 FULL-PAGE |
|
