Note 1 — Chapter IX

It is impossible to assign the motive that induced the compiler of Buddha's life to insert in his work a long episode on the celebrated physician Dzewaka. The story is in itself uninteresting, and throws no light whatever on the history of the supposed originator or reformer of Buddhism. For this reason it has been thought quite unnecessary to give a complete translation of the whole passage. The name of Dzewaka is quite familiar to the adepts of the medical art in Burmah. Many times the writer has made inquiries respecting the works of the Hippocrates of India, but he has never been able to meet with mention of or allusion to such compositions. Hence he has been led to suppose that the father of medicine in these countries has left behind him no writings to embody the results of his theoretical and practical favourite pursuits. Surgery appears to have been no novelty with our great doctor, since we see him on an occasion extracting from the body of a prince, by means of an incision, a snake that put his life in peril.

The numerous quacks who in Burmah assume the name of physicians, and are ever ready to give medicines in all cases, even the most difficult and complicated, are ignorant of the very elements of the surgical art. They possess a certain number of remedies, made up of plants, which, when applied under proper circumstances and in certain cases, work wonderful cures. But the native physicians, unable in most instances to discern the true symptoms of diseases, prescribe remedies at random, and obtain, in too many cases, results most fatal to the unfortunate patient. In medicine as well as in religion, ignorance begets superstition and recourse to magical practices. We may positively assert that the black art is, with native practitioners, an essential concomitant to the practice of medicine. When a physician has exhausted the limited stock of remedies that he possesses, and he finds, in spite of his exertions, that the disease bids defiance to his skill, he gravely tells the relatives of the patient that some evil spirit is interfering with his remedies, and that he must be expelled ere there can be any chance of relieving the sufferer and obtaining his recovery. Whereupon a shed is erected with the utmost speed on a spot close to the house of the patient. Offerings of rice, fruits, and other articles are made to the pretended evil spirit, who is supposed to have got hold of the sufferer's body. Dances of the most frantic character are carried on by his relatives. Males will only officiate in default of females; preference is always given to the latter. Young girls, say the Burmese, are the fittest persons for the occasion, as it is supposed that the evil Nat is more effectually and easily propitiated by the power of their charms. This exercise lasts until, strength at last failing them, they drop down in a state of complete exhaustion and prostration. They appear as if they had entirely lost their senses. In that state they are supposed to be inspired by the evil spirit. Interrogated by the physician on the nature of the disease, and the proper remedies to be applied for eradicating it, they give answers, or rather they become channels through which the spirit, satisfied with the offerings made in his honour, condescends to declare that he has now left the patient, and that by placing him under a certain treatment, which he fails not to indicate, he will soon recover his health. Occurrences of this nature are exceedingly common. They are called by the natives festivals of the Nat-pan, or of the possessing spirit.