And now in the household of Suddhodana r_Sacred Books of the East

royal prince, his clansmen and younger brethren, with his ministers,

were all generously disposed, whilst elephants, horses and chariots, and

the wealth of the country, and precious vessels, daily increased and

abounded, being produced wherever requisite; so, too, countless hidden

treasures came of themselves from the earth. From the midst of the pure

snowy mountains, a wild herd of white elephants, without noise, of

themselves, came; not curbed by any, self-subdued, every kind of colored

horse, in shape and quality surpassingly excellent, with sparkling

jewelled manes and flowing tails, came prancing round, as if with wings;

these too, born in the desert, came at the right time, of themselves. A

herd of pure-colored, well-proportioned cows, fat and fleshy, and

remarkable for beauty, giving fragrant and pure milk with equal flow,

came together in great number at this propitious time. Enmity and envy

gave way to peace; content and rest prevailed on every side; whilst

there was closer union amongst the true of heart, discord and variance

were entirely appeased; the gentle air distilled a seasonable rain, no

crash of storm or tempest was heard, the springing seeds, not waiting

for their time, grew up apace and yielded abundant increase; the five

cereals grew ripe with scented grain, soft and glutinous, easy of

digestion; all creatures big with young, possessed their bodies in ease

and their frames well gathered. All men, even those who had not received

the seeds of instruction derived from the four holy ones;[95] all these,

throughout the world, born under the control of selfish appetite,

without any thought for others' goods, had no proud, envious longings;

no angry, hateful thoughts. All the temples of the gods and sacred

shrines, the gardens, wells, and fountains, all these like things in

heaven, produced of themselves, at the proper time, their several

adornments. There was no famishing hunger, the soldiers' weapons were at

rest, all diseases disappeared; throughout the kingdom all the people

were bound close in family love and friendship; piously affectioned they

indulged in mutual pleasures, there were no impure or polluting desires;

they sought their daily gain righteously, no covetous money-loving

spirit prevailed, but with religious purpose they gave liberally; there

was no thought of any reward or return, but all practised the four rules

of purity; and every hateful thought was suppressed and destroyed. Even

as in days gone by, Manu râga begat a child called "Brilliancy of the

Sun," on which there prevailed through the country great prosperity, and

all wickedness came to an end; so now the king having begotten a royal

prince, these marks of prosperity were seen; and because of such a

concourse of propitious signs, the child was named Siddhârtha.[96] And

now his royal mother, the queen Mâyâ, beholding her son born under such

circumstances, beautiful as a child of heaven, adorned with every

excellent distinction, from excessive joy which could not be controlled

died, and was born in heaven. Then Pragâ-pati Gautami, beholding the

prince, like an angel, with beauty seldom seen on earth, seeing him thus

born and now his mother dead, loved and nourished him as her own child;

and the child regarded her as his mother.

So as the light of the sun or the moon, little by little increases, the

royal child also increased each day in every mental excellency and

beauty of person; his body exhaled the perfume of priceless sandal-wood,

decorated with the famed Gambunada gold gems; divine medicines there

were to preserve him in health, glittering necklaces upon his person;

the members of tributary states, hearing that the king had an heir born

to him, sent their presents and gifts of various kinds: oxen, sheep,

deer, horses, and chariots, precious vessels and elegant ornaments, fit

to delight the heart of the prince; but though presented with such

pleasing trifles, the necklaces and other pretty ornaments, the mind of

the prince was unmoved, his bodily frame small indeed, but his heart

established; his mind at rest within its own high purposes, was not to

be disturbed by glittering baubles.

And now he was brought to learn the useful arts, when lo! once

instructed he surpassed his teachers. His father, the king, seeing his

exceeding talent, and his deep purpose to have done with the world and

its allurements, began to inquire as to the names of those in his tribe

who were renowned for elegance and refinement. Elegant and graceful, and

a lovely maiden, was she whom they called Yasodharâ; in every way

fitting to become a consort for the prince, and to allure by pleasant

wiles his heart. The prince with a mind so far removed from the world,

with qualities so distinguished, and with so charming an appearance,

like the elder son of Brahmadeva, Sanatkumâra (She-na Kiu-ma-lo); the

virtuous damsel, lovely and refined, gentle and subdued in manner;

majestic like the queen of heaven, constant ever, cheerful night and

day, establishing the palace in purity and quiet, full of dignity and

exceeding grace, like a lofty hill rising up in space; or as a white

autumn cloud; warm or cool according to the season; choosing a proper

dwelling according to the year, surrounded by a return of singing women,

who join their voices in harmonious heavenly concord, without any

jarring or unpleasant sound, exciting in the hearers forgetfulness of

worldly cares. As the heavenly Gandharvas of themselves, in their

beauteous palaces, cause the singing women to raise heavenly strains,

the sounds of which and their beauty ravish both eyes and heart--so

Bodhisattva dwelt in his lofty palace, with music such as this. The

king, his father, for the prince's sake, dwelt purely in his palace,

practising every virtue; delighting in the teaching of the true law, he

put away from him every evil companion, that his heart might not be

polluted by lust; regarding inordinate desire as poison, keeping his

passion and his body in due control, destroying and repressing all

trivial thoughts; desiring to enjoy virtuous conversation, loving

instruction fit to subdue the hearts of men, aiming to accomplish the

conversion of unbelievers; removing all schemes of opposition from

whatever source they came by the enlightening power of his doctrine,

aiming to save the entire world; thus he desired that the body of people

should obtain rest; even as we desire to give peace to our children, so

did he long to give rest to the world. He also attended to his religious

duties, sacrificing by fire to all the spirits, with clasped hands

adoring the moon, bathing his body in the waters of the Ganges;

cleansing his heart in the waters of religion, performing his duties

with no private aim, but regarding his child and the people at large;

loving righteous conversation, righteous words with loving aim; loving

words with no mixture of falsehood, true words imbued by love, and yet

withal so modest and self-distrustful, unable on that account to speak

as confident of truth; loving to all, and yet not loving the world; with

no thought of selfishness or covetous desire: aiming to restrain the

tongue and in quietness to find rest from wordy contentions, not seeking

in the multitude of religious duties to condone for a worldly principle

in action, but aiming to benefit the world by a liberal and

unostentatious charity; the heart without any contentious thought, but

resolved by goodness to subdue the contentious; desiring to mortify the

passions, and to destroy every enemy of virtue; not multiplying coarse

or unseemly words, but exhorting to virtue in the use of courteous

language; full of sympathy and ready charity, pointing out and

practising the way of mutual dependence; receiving and understanding the

wisdom of spirits and Rishis; crushing and destroying every cruel and

hateful thought. Thus his fame and virtue were widely renowned, and yet

himself finally (or, forever) separate from the ties of the world,

showing the ability of a master builder, laying a good foundation of

virtue, an example for all the earth; so a man's heart composed and at

rest, his limbs and all his members will also be at ease. And now the

son of Suddhodana, and his virtuous wife Yasodharâ, as time went on,

growing to full estate, their child Râhula was born; and then Suddhodana

râga considered thus: "My son, the prince, having a son born to him, the

affairs of the empire will be handed down in succession, and there will

be no end to its righteous government; the prince having begotten a son,

will love his son as I love him, and no longer think about leaving his

home as an ascetic, but devote himself to the practice of virtue; I now

have found complete rest of heart, like one just born to heavenly joys."

Like as in the first days of the kalpa, Rishi-kings by the way in which

they walked, practising pure and spotless deeds, offered up religious

offerings, without harm to living thing, and illustriously prepared an

excellent karma, so the king excelling in the excellence of purity in

family and excellence of wealth, excelling in strength and every

exhibition of prowess, reflected the glory of his name through the

world, as the sun sheds abroad his thousand rays. But now, being the

king of men, or a king among men, he deemed it right to exhibit his

son's prowess, for the sake of his family and kin, to exhibit him; to

increase his family's renown, his glory spread so high as even to obtain

the name of "God begotten;" and having partaken of these heavenly joys,

enjoying the happiness of increased wisdom; understanding the truth by

his own righteousness, derived from previous hearing of the truth. Would

that this might lead my son, he prayed, to love his child and not

forsake his home; the kings of all countries, whose sons have not yet

grown up, have prevented them exercising authority in the empire, in

order to give their minds relaxation, and for this purpose have provided

them with worldly indulgences, so that they may perpetuate the royal

seed; so now the king, having begotten a royal son, indulged him in

every sort of pleasure; desiring that he might enjoy these worldly

delights, and not wish to wander from his home in search of wisdom. In

former times the Bodhisattva kings, although their way (life) has been

restrained, have yet enjoyed the pleasures of the world, and when they

have begotten a son, then separating themselves from family ties, have

afterwards entered the solitude of the mountains, to prepare themselves

in the way of a silent recluse.

* * * * *

Disgust at Sorrow

Without are pleasant garden glades, flowing fountains, pure refreshing

lakes, with every kind of flower, and trees with fruit, arranged in

rows, deep shade beneath. There, too, are various kinds of wondrous

birds, flying and sporting in the midst, and on the surface of the water

the four kinds of flowers, bright colored, giving out their floating

scent; minstrel maidens cause their songs and chorded music, to invite

the prince. He, hearing the sounds of singing, sighs for the pleasures

of the garden shades, and cherishing within these happy thoughts, he

dwelt upon the joys of an outside excursion; even as the chained

elephant ever longs for the free desert wilds.

The royal father, hearing that the prince would enjoy to wander through

the gardens, first ordered all his attendant officers to adorn and

arrange them, after their several offices:--To make level and smooth the

king's highway, to remove from the path all offensive matter, all old

persons, diseased or deformed, all those suffering through poverty or

great grief, so that his son in his present humor might see nothing

likely to afflict his heart. The adornments being duly made, the prince

was invited to an audience; the king seeing his son approach, patted his

head, and looking at the color of his face, feelings of sorrow and joy

intermingled, bound him. His mouth willing to speak, his heart

restrained.

Now see the jewel-fronted gaudy chariot; the four equally pacing,

stately horses; good-tempered and well trained; young and of graceful

appearance; perfectly pure and white, and draped with flowery coverings.

In the same chariot stands the stately driver; the streets were

scattered over with flowers; precious drapery fixed on either side of

the way, with dwarfed trees lining the road, costly vessels employed for

decoration, hanging canopies and variegated banners, silken curtains,

moved by the rustling breeze; spectators arranged on either side of the

path. With bodies bent and glistening eyes, eagerly gazing, but not

rudely staring, as the blue lotus flower they bent drooping in the air,

ministers and attendants flocking round him, as stars following the

chief of the constellation; all uttering the same suppressed whisper of

admiration, at a sight so seldom seen in the world; rich and poor,

humble and exalted, old and young and middle-aged, all paid the greatest

respect, and invoked blessings on the occasion.

So the country-folk and the town-folk, hearing that the prince was

coming forth, the well-to-do not waiting for their servants, those

asleep and awake not mutually calling to one another, the six kinds of

creatures not gathered together and penned, the money not collected and

locked up, the doors and gates not fastened, all went pouring along the

way on foot; the towers were filled, the mounds by the trees, the

windows and the terraces along the streets; with bent body fearing to

lift their eyes, carefully seeing that there was nothing about them to

offend, those seated on high addressing those seated on the ground,

those going on the road addressing those passing on high, the mind

intent on one object alone; so that if a heavenly form had flown past,

or a form entitled to highest respect, there would have been no

distraction visible, so intent was the body and so immovable the limbs.

And now beautiful as the opening lily, he advances towards the garden

glades, wishing to accomplish the words of the holy prophet (Rishi). The

prince, seeing the ways prepared and watered and the joyous holiday

appearance of the people; seeing too the drapery and chariot, pure,

bright, shining, his heart exulted greatly and rejoiced. The people (on

their part) gazed at the prince, so beautifully adorned, with all his

retinue, like an assembled company of kings gathered to see a

heaven-born prince. And now a Deva-râga of the Pure abode, suddenly

appears by the side of the road; his form changed into that of an old

man, struggling for life, his heart weak and oppressed. The prince

seeing the old man, filled with apprehension, asked his charioteer,

"What kind of man is this? his head white and his shoulders bent, his

eyes bleared and his body withered, holding a stick to support him along

the way. Is his body suddenly dried up by the heat, or has he been born

in this way?" The charioteer, his heart much embarrassed, scarcely dared

to answer truly, till the pure-born (Deva) added his spiritual power,

and caused him to frame a reply in true words: "His appearance changed,

his vital powers decayed, filled with sorrow, with little pleasure, his

spirits gone, his members nerveless, these are the indications of what

is called 'old age.' This man was once a sucking child, brought up and

nourished at his mother's breast, and as a youth full of sportive life,

handsome, and in enjoyment of the five pleasures; as years passed on,

his frame decaying, he is brought now to the waste of age."

The prince, greatly agitated and moved, asked his charioteer another

question and said, "Is yonder man the only one afflicted with age, or

shall I, and others also, be such as he?" The charioteer again replied

and said, "Your highness also inherits this lot: as time goes on, the

form itself is changed, and this must doubtless come, beyond all

hindrance. The youthful form must wear the garb of age, throughout the

world, this is the common lot."

Bodhisattva, who had long prepared the foundation of pure and spotless

wisdom, broadly setting the root of every high quality, with a view to

gather large fruit in his present life, hearing these words respecting

the sorrow of age, was afflicted in mind, and his hair stood upright.

Just as the roll of the thunder and the storm alarm and put to flight

the cattle, so was Bodhisattva affected by the words; shaking with

apprehension, he deeply sighed; constrained at heart because of the pain

of age; with shaking head and constant gaze, he thought upon this misery

of decay; what joy or pleasure can men take, he thought, in that which

soon must wither, stricken by the marks of age; affecting all without

exception; though gifted now with youth and strength, yet not one but

soon must change and pine away. The eye beholding such signs as these

before it, how can it not be oppressed by a desire to escape?

Bodhisattva then addressed his charioteer: "Quickly turn your chariot

and go back. Ever thinking on this subject of old age approaching, what

pleasures now can these gardens afford, the years of my life like the

fast-flying wind; turn your chariot, and with speedy wheels take me to

my palace." And so his heart keeping in the same sad tone, he was as one

who returns to a place of entombment; unaffected by any engagement or

employment, so he found no rest in anything within his home.

The king hearing of his son's sadness urged his companions to induce him

again to go abroad, and forthwith incited his ministers and attendants

to decorate the gardens even more than before. The Deva then caused

himself to appear as a sick man; struggling for life, he stood by the

wayside, his body swollen and disfigured, sighing with deep-drawn

groans; his hands and knees contracted and sore with disease, his tears

flowing as he piteously muttered his petition. The prince asked his

charioteer, "What sort of man, again, is this?"

Replying, he said, "This is a sick man. The four elements all confused

and disordered, worn and feeble, with no remaining strength, bent down

with weakness, looking to his fellow-men for help." The prince hearing

the words thus spoken, immediately became sad and depressed in heart,

and asked, "Is this the only man afflicted thus, or are others liable to

the same calamity?" In reply he said, "Through all the world, men are

subject to the same condition; those who have bodies must endure

affliction, the poor and ignorant, as well as the rich and great." The

prince, when these words met his ears, was oppressed with anxious

thought and grief; his body and his mind were moved throughout, just as

the moon upon the ruffled tide. "Placed thus in the great furnace of

affliction, say! what rest or quiet can there be! Alas! that worldly

men, blinded by ignorance and oppressed with dark delusion, though the

robber sickness may appear at any time, yet live with blithe and joyous

hearts!" On this, turning his chariot back again, he grieved to think

upon the pain of sickness. As a man beaten and wounded sore, with body

weakened, leans upon his staff, so dwelt he in the seclusion of his

palace, lone-seeking, hating worldly pleasures.

The king, hearing once more of his son's return, asked anxiously the

reason why, and in reply was told--"he saw the pain of sickness." The

king, in fear, like one beside himself, roundly blamed the keepers of

the way; his heart constrained, his lips spoke not; again he increased

the crowd of music-women, the sounds of merriment twice louder than

aforetime, if by these sounds and sights the prince might be gratified;

and indulging worldly feelings, might not hate his home. Night and day

the charm of melody increased, but his heart was still unmoved by it.

The king himself then went forth to observe everything successively, and

to make the gardens even yet more attractive, selecting with care the

attendant women, that they might excel in every point of personal

beauty; quick in wit and able to arrange matters well, fit to ensnare

men by their winning looks; he placed additional keepers along the

king's way, he strictly ordered every offensive sight to be removed, and

earnestly exhorted the illustrious coachman, to look well and pick out

the road as he went. And now that Deva of the Pure abode, again caused

the appearance of a dead man; four persons carrying the corpse lifted it

on high, and appeared (to be going on) in front of Bodhisattva; the

surrounding people saw it not, but only Bodhisattva and the charioteer.

Once more he asked, "What is this they carry? with streamers and flowers

of every choice description, whilst the followers are overwhelmed with

grief, tearing their hair and wailing piteously." And now the gods

instructing the coachman, he replied and said, "This is a dead man: all

his powers of body destroyed, life departed; his heart without thought,

his intellect dispersed; his spirit gone, his form withered and decayed;

stretched out as a dead log; family ties broken--all his friends who

once loved him, clad in white cerements, now no longer delighting to

behold him, remove him to lie in some hollow ditch tomb." The prince

hearing the name of Death, his heart constrained by painful thoughts, he

asked, "Is this the only dead man, or does the world contain like

instances?" Replying thus he said, "All, everywhere, the same; he who

begins his life must end it likewise; the strong and lusty and the

middle-aged, having a body, cannot but decay and die." The prince was

now harassed and perplexed in mind; his body bent upon the chariot

leaning-board, with bated breath and struggling accents, stammered thus,

"Oh worldly men! how fatally deluded! beholding everywhere the body

brought to dust, yet everywhere the more carelessly living; the heart is

neither lifeless wood nor stone, and yet it thinks not 'all is

vanishing!'" Then turning, he directed his chariot to go back, and no

longer waste his time in wandering. How could he, whilst in fear of

instant death, go wandering here and there with lightened heart! The

charioteer remembering the king's exhortation feared much nor dared go

back; straightforward then he pressed his panting steeds, passed onward

to the gardens, came to the groves and babbling streams of crystal

water, the pleasant trees, spread out with gaudy verdure, the noble

living things and varied beasts so wonderful, the flying creatures and

their notes melodious; all charming and delightful to the eye and ear,

even as the heavenly Nandavana.

Putting Away Desire

On the prince entering the garden the women came around to pay him

court; and to arouse in him thoughts frivolous; with ogling ways and

deep design, each one setting herself off to best advantage; or joining

together in harmonious concert, clapping their hands, or moving their

feet in unison, or joining close, body to body, limb to limb; or

indulging in smart repartees, and mutual smiles; or assuming a

thoughtful saddened countenance, and so by sympathy to please the

prince, and provoke in him a heart affected by love. But all the women

beheld the prince, clouded in brow, and his god-like body not exhibiting

its wonted signs of beauty; fair in bodily appearance, surpassingly

lovely, all looked upwards as they gazed, as when we call upon the moon

Deva to come; but all their subtle devices were ineffectual to move

Bodhisattva's heart.

At last commingling together they join and look astonished and in fear,

silent without a word. Then there was a Brahmaputra, whose name was

called Udâyi (Yau-to-i). He, addressing the women, said, "Now all of

you, so graceful and fair, see if you cannot by your combined power hit

on some device; for beauty's power is not forever. Still it holds the

world in bondage, by secret ways and lustful arts; but no such

loveliness in all the world as yours, equal to that of heavenly nymphs;

the gods beholding it would leave their queens, spirits and Rishis would

be misled by it; why not then the prince, the son of an earthly king?

why should not his feelings be aroused? This prince indeed, though he

restrains his heart and holds it fixed, pure-minded, with virtue

uncontaminated, not to be overcome by power of women; yet of old there

was Sundarî (Su-to-li) able to destroy the great Rishi, and to lead him

to indulge in love, and so degrade his boasted eminence; undergoing long

penance, Gautama fell likewise by the arts of a heavenly queen;

Shing-kü, a Rishi putra, practising lustful indulgences according to

fancy, was lost. The Brahman Rishi Visvâmitra (Pi-she-po), living

religiously for ten thousand years, deeply ensnared by a heavenly queen,

in one day was completely shipwrecked in faith; thus those enticing

women, by their power, overcame the Brahman ascetics; how much more may

ye, by your arts, overpower the resolves of the king's son; strive

therefore after new devices, let not the king fail in a successor to the

throne; women, though naturally weak, are high and potent in the way of

ruling men. What may not their arts accomplish in promoting in men a

lustful desire?" At this time all the attendant women, hearing

throughout the words of Udâyi, increasing their powers of pleasing, as

the quiet horse when touched by the whip, went into the presence of the

royal prince, and each one strove in the practice of every kind of art.

They joined in music and in smiling conversation, raising their

eyebrows, showing their white teeth, with ogling looks, glancing one at

the other, their light drapery exhibiting their white bodies, daintily

moving with mincing gait, acting the part of a bride as if coming

gradually nearer, desiring to promote in him a feeling of love,

remembering the words of the great king, "With dissolute form and

slightly clad, forgetful of modesty and womanly reserve." The prince

with resolute heart was silent and still, with unmoved face he sat; even

as the great elephant-dragon, whilst the entire herd moves round him; so

nothing could disturb or move his heart, dwelling in their midst as in a

confined room. Like the divine Sakra, around whom all the Devîs

assemble, so was the prince as he dwelt in the gardens; the maidens

encircling him thus; some arranging their dress, others washing their

hands or feet, others perfuming their bodies with scent, others twining

flowers for decoration, others making strings for jewelled necklets,

others rubbing or striking their bodies, others resting, or lying, one

beside the other; others, with head inclined, whispering secret words,

others engaged in common sports, others talking of amorous things,

others assuming lustful attitudes, striving thus to move his heart. But

Bodhisattva, peaceful and collected, firm as a rock, difficult to move,

hearing all these women's talk, unaffected either to joy or sorrow, was

driven still more to serious thought, sighing to witness such strange

conduct, and beginning to understand the women's design, by these means

to disconcert his mind, not knowing that youthful beauty soon falls,

destroyed by old age and death, fading and perishing! This is the great

distress! What ignorance and delusion (he reflected) overshadow their

minds: "Surely they ought to consider old age, disease, and death, and

day and night stir themselves up to exertion, whilst this sharp

double-edged sword hangs over the neck. What room for sport or laughter,

beholding those monsters, old age, disease, and death? A man who is

unable to resort to this inward knowledge, what is he but a wooden or a

plaster man, what heart-consideration in such a case! Like the double

tree that appears in the desert, with leaves and fruit all perfect and

ripe, the first cut down and destroyed, the other unmoved by

apprehension, so it is in the case of the mass of men: they have no

understanding either!"

At this time Udâyi came to the place where the prince was, and observing

his silent and thoughtful mien, unmoved by any desire for indulgence, he

forthwith addressed the prince, and said, "The Mahâraga, by his former

appointment, has selected me to act as friend to his son; may I

therefore speak some friendly words? an enlightened friendship is of

three sorts: that which removes things unprofitable, promotes that which

is real gain, and stands by a friend in adversity. I claim the name of

'enlightened friend,' and would renounce all that is magisterial, but

yet not speak lightly or with indifference. What then are the three

sources of advantage? listen, and I will now utter true words, and prove

myself a true and sincere adviser. When the years are fresh and

ripening, beauty and pleasing qualities in bloom, not to give proper

weight to woman's influence, this is a weak man's policy. It is right

sometimes to be of a crafty mind, submitting to those little subterfuges

which find a place in the heart's undercurrents, and obeying what those

thoughts suggest in way of pleasures to be got from dalliance: this is

no wrong in woman's eye! even if now the heart has no desire, yet it is

fair to follow such devices; agreement is the joy of woman's heart,

acquiescence is the substance (the full) of true adornment; but if a man

reject these overtures, he's like a tree deprived of leaves and fruits;

why then ought you to yield and acquiesce? that you may share in all

these things. Because in taking, there's an end of trouble--no light and

changeful thoughts then worry us--for pleasure is the first and foremost

thought of all, the gods themselves cannot dispense with it. Lord Sakra

was drawn by it to love the wife of Gautama the Rishi; so likewise the

Rishi Agastya, through a long period of discipline, practising

austerities, from hankering after a heavenly queen (Devî), lost all

reward of his religious endeavors, the Rishi Brihaspati, and Kandradeva

putra; the Rishi Parâsara, and Kavañgara (Kia-pin-ke-lo). All these, out

of many others, were overcome by woman's love. How much more then, in

your case, should you partake in such pleasant joys; nor refuse, with

wilful heart, to participate in the worldly delights, which your present

station, possessed of such advantages, offers you, in the presence of

these attendants."

At this time the royal prince, hearing the words of his friend Udâyi, so

skilfully put, with such fine distinction, cleverly citing worldly

instances, answered thus to Udâyi: "Thank you for having spoken

sincerely to me; let me likewise answer you in the same way, and let

your heart suspend its judgment whilst you listen:--It is not that I am

careless about beauty, or am ignorant of the power of human joys, but

only that I see on all the impress of change; therefore my heart is sad

and heavy; if these things were sure of lasting, without the ills of

age, disease, and death, then would I too take my fill of love; and to

the end find no disgust or sadness. If you will undertake to cause these

women's beauty not to change or wither in the future, then, though the

joy of love may have its evil, still it might hold the mind in thraldom.

To know that other men grow old, sicken, and die, would be enough to rob

such joys of satisfaction; yet how much more in their own case (knowing

this) would discontentment fill the mind; to know such pleasures hasten

to decay, and their bodies likewise; if, notwithstanding this, men yield

to the power of love, their case indeed is like the very beasts. And now

you cite the names of many Rishis, who practised lustful ways in life;

their cases likewise cause me sorrow, for in that they did these things,

they perished. Again, you cite the name of that illustrious king, who

freely gratified his passions, but he, in like way, perished in the act;

know, then, that he was not a conqueror; with smooth words to conceal an

intrigue, and to persuade one's neighbor to consent, and by consenting

to defile his mind; how can this be called a just device? It is but to

seduce one with a hollow lie--such ways are not for me to practise; or,

for those who love the truth and honesty; for they are, forsooth,

unrighteous ways, and such a disposition is hard to reverence; shaping

one's conduct after one's likings, liking this or that, and seeing no

harm in it, what method of experience is this! A hollow compliance, and

a protesting heart, such method is not for me to follow; but this I

know, old age, disease, and death, these are the great afflictions which

accumulate, and overwhelm me with their presence; on these I find no

friend to speak, alas! alas! Udâyi! these, after all, are the great

concerns; the pain of birth, old age, disease, and death; this grief is

that we have to fear; the eyes see all things falling to decay, and yet

the heart finds joy in following them; but I have little strength of

purpose, or command; this heart of mine is feeble and distraught,

reflecting thus on age, disease, and death. Distracted, as I never was

before; sleepless by night and day, how can I then indulge in pleasure?

Old age, disease, and death consuming me, their certainty beyond a

doubt, and still to have no heavy thoughts, in truth my heart would be a

log or stone." Thus the prince, for Uda's sake, used every kind of

skilful argument, describing all the pains of pleasure; and not

perceiving that the day declined. And now the waiting women all, with

music and their various attractions, seeing that all were useless for

the end, with shame began to flock back to the city; the prince

beholding all the gardens, bereft of their gaudy ornaments, the women

all returning home, the place becoming silent and deserted, felt with

twofold strength the thought of impermanence. With saddened mien going

back, he entered his palace.

The king, his father, hearing of the prince, his heart estranged from

thoughts of pleasure, was greatly overcome with sorrow, and like a sword

it pierced his heart. Forthwith assembling all his council, he sought of

them some means to gain his end; they all replied, "These sources of

desire are not enough to hold and captivate his heart."

Leaving the City

And so the king increased the means for gratifying the appetite for

pleasure; both night and day the joys of music wore out the prince,

opposed to pleasure; disgusted with them, he desired their absence, his

mind was weaned from all such thoughts, he only thought of age, disease,

and death; as the lion wounded by an arrow.

The king then sent his chief ministers, and the most distinguished of

his family, young in years and eminent for beauty, as well as for wisdom

and dignity of manners, to accompany and rest with him, both night and

day, in order to influence the prince's mind. And now within a little

interval, the prince again requested the king that he might go abroad.

Once more the chariot and the well-paced horses were prepared, adorned

with precious substances and every gem; and then with all the nobles,

his associates, surrounding him, he left the city gates. Just as the

four kinds of flower, when the sun shines, open out their leaves, so was

the prince in all his spiritual splendor; effulgent in the beauty of his

youth-time. As he proceeded to the gardens from the city, the road was

well prepared, smooth, and wide, the trees were bright with flowers and

fruit, his heart was joyous, and forgetful of its care.

Now by the roadside, as he beheld the ploughmen, plodding along the

furrows, and the writhing worms, his heart again was moved with piteous

feeling, and anguish pierced his soul afresh; to see those laborers at

their toil, struggling with painful work, their bodies bent, their hair

dishevelled, the dripping sweat upon their faces, their persons fouled

with mud and dust; the ploughing oxen, too, bent by the yokes, their

lolling tongues and gaping mouths. The nature of the prince, loving,

compassionate, his mind conceived most poignant sorrow, and nobly moved

to sympathy, he groaned with pain; then stooping down he sat upon the

ground, and watched this painful scene of suffering; reflecting on the

ways of birth and death! "Alas! he cried, for all the world! how dark

and ignorant, void of understanding!" And then to give his followers

chance of rest, he bade them each repose where'er they list, whilst he

beneath the shadow of a Gambu tree, gracefully seated, gave himself to

thought. He pondered on the fact of life and death, inconstancy, and

endless progress to decay. His heart thus fixed without confusion, the

five senses covered and clouded over, lost in possession of

enlightenment and insight, he entered on the first pure state of

ecstasy. All low desire removed, most perfect peace ensued; and fully

now in Samâdhi he saw the misery and utter sorrow of the world; the ruin

wrought by age, disease, and death; the great misery following on the

body's death; and yet men not awakened to the truth! oppressed with

others' suffering (age, disease, and death), this load of sorrow weighed

his mind. "I now will seek," he said, "a noble law, unlike the worldly

methods known to men. I will oppose disease and age and death, and

strive against the mischief wrought by these on men."

Thus lost in tranquil contemplation, he considered that youth, vigor,

and strength of life, constantly renewing themselves, without long stay,

in the end fulfil the rule of ultimate destruction. Thus he pondered,

without excessive joy or grief, without hesitation or confusion of

thought, without dreaminess or extreme longing, without aversion or

discontent, but perfectly at peace, with no hindrance, radiant with the

beams of increased illumination. At this time a Deva of the Pure abode,

transforming himself into the shape of a Bhikshu, came to the place

where the prince was seated; the prince with due consideration rose to

meet him, and asked him who he was. In reply he said, "I am a Shâman,

depressed and sad at thought of age, disease, and death; I have left my

home to seek some way of rescue, but everywhere I find old age, disease,

and death; all things hasten to decay and there is no permanency.

Therefore I search for the happiness of something that decays not, that

never perishes, that never knows beginning, that looks with equal mind

on enemy and friend, that heeds not wealth nor beauty; the happiness of

one who finds repose alone in solitude, in some unfrequented dell, free

from molestation, all thoughts about the world destroyed; dwelling in

some lonely hermitage, untouched by any worldly source of pollution,

begging for food sufficient for the body." And forthwith as he stood

before the prince, gradually rising up he disappeared in space.

The prince, with joyful mind, considering, recollected former Buddhas,

established thus in perfect dignity of manner; with noble mien and

presence, as this visitor. Thus calling things to mind with perfect

self-possession, he reached the thought of righteousness, and by what

means it can be gained. Indulging thus for some time in thoughts of

religious solitude, he now suppressed his feelings and controlled his

members, and rising turned again towards the city. His followers all

flocked after him, calling him to stop and not go far from them, but in

his mind these secret thoughts so held him, devising means by which to

escape from the world, that though his body moved along the road, his

heart was far away among the mountains; even as the bound and captive

elephant ever thinks about his desert wilds. The prince now entering the

city, there met him men and women, earnest for their several ends; the

old besought him for their children, the young sought something for the

wife, others sought something for their brethren; all those allied by

kinship or by family, aimed to obtain their several suits, all of them

joined in relationship dreading the pain of separation. And now the

prince's heart was filled with joy, as he suddenly heard those words

"separation and association." "These are joyful sounds to me," he said,

"they assure me that my vow shall be accomplished." Then deeply

pondering the joy of "snapped relationship," the idea of Nirvâna,

deepened and widened in him, his body as a peak of the Golden Mount, his

shoulder like the elephant's, his voice like the spring-thunder, his

deep-blue eye like that of the king of oxen; his mind full of religious

thoughts, his face bright as the full moon, his step like that of the

lion king, thus he entered his palace; even as the son of Lord Sakra, or

Sakra-putra, his mind reverential, his person dignified, he went

straight to his father's presence, and with head inclined, inquired, "Is

the king well?" Then he explained his dread of age, disease, and death,

and sought respectfully permission to become a hermit. "For all things

in the world," he said, "though now united, tend to separation."

Therefore he prayed to leave the world; desiring to find "true

deliverance."

His royal father hearing the words "leave the world," was forthwith

seized with great heart-trembling, even as the strong wild elephant

shakes with his weight the boughs of some young sapling; going forward,

seizing the prince's hands, with falling tears, he spake as follows:

"Stop! nor speak such words, the time is not yet come for 'a religious

life;' you are young and strong, your heart beats full, to lead a

religious life frequently involves trouble; it is rarely possible to

hold the desires in check, the heart not yet estranged from their

enjoyment; to leave your home and lead a painful ascetic life, your

heart can hardly yet resolve on such a course. To dwell amidst the

desert wilds or lonely dells, this heart of yours would not be perfectly

at rest, for though you love religious matters, you are not yet like me

in years; you should undertake the kingdom's government, and let me

first adopt ascetic life; but to give up your father and your sacred

duties, this is not to act religiously; you should suppress this thought

of 'leaving home,' and undertake your worldly duties, find your delight

in getting an illustrious name, and after this give up your home and

family."

The prince, with proper reverence and respectful feelings, again

besought his royal father; but promised if he could be saved from four

calamities, that he would give up the thought of "leaving home." If he

would grant him life without end, no disease, nor undesirable old age,

and no decay of earthly possessions, then he would obey and give up the

thought of "leaving home."

The royal father then addressed the prince, "Speak not such words as

these, for with respect to these four things, who is there able to

prevent them, or say nay to their approach; asking such things as these,

you would provoke men's laughter! But put away this thought of 'leaving

home,' and once more take yourself to pleasure."

The prince again besought his father, "If you may not grant me these

four prayers, then let me go I pray, and leave my home. O! place no

difficulties in my path; your son is dwelling in a burning house, would

you indeed prevent his leaving it! To solve a doubt is only reasonable,

who could forbid a man to seek its explanation? Or if he were forbidden,

then by self-destruction he might solve the difficulty, in an

unrighteous way: and if he were to do so, who could restrain him after

death?"

The royal father, seeing his son's mind so firmly fixed that it could

not be turned, and that it would be waste of strength to bandy further

words or arguments, forthwith commanded more attendant women, to provoke

still more his mind to pleasure; day and night he ordered them to keep

the roads and ways, to the end that he might not leave his palace. He

moreover ordered all the ministers of the country to come to the place

where dwelt the prince, to quote and illustrate the rules of filial

piety, hoping to cause him to obey the wishes of the king.

The prince, beholding his royal father bathed with tears and o'erwhelmed

with grief, forthwith returned to his abode, and sat himself in silence

to consider; all the women of the palace, coming towards him, waited as

they circled him, and gazed in silence on his beauteous form. They gazed

upon him not with furtive glance, but like the deer in autumn brake

looks wistfully at the hunter; around the prince's straight and handsome

form, bright as the mountain of true gold (Sumeru). The dancing women

gathered doubtingly, waiting to hear him bid them sound their music;

repressing every feeling of the heart through fear, even as the deer

within the brake; now gradually the day began to wane, the prince still

sitting in the evening light, his glory streaming forth in splendor, as

the sun lights up Mount Sumeru; thus seated on his jewelled couch,

surrounded by the fumes of sandal-wood, the dancing women took their

places round; then sounded forth their heavenly music, even as Vaisaman

produces every kind of rare and heavenly sounds. The thoughts which

dwelt within the prince's mind entirely drove from him desire for music,

and though the sounds filled all the place, they fell upon his ear

unnoticed. At this time the Deva of the Pure abode, knowing the prince's

time was come, the destined time for quitting home, suddenly assumed a

form and came to earth, to make the shapes of all the women

unattractive, so that they might create disgust, and no desire arise

from thought of beauty. Their half-clad forms bent in ungainly

attitudes, forgetful in their sleep, their bodies crooked or supine, the

instruments of music lying scattered in disorder; leaning and facing one

another, or with back to back, or like those beings thrown into the

abyss, their jewelled necklets bound about like chains, their clothes

and undergarments swathed around their persons; grasping their

instruments, stretched along the earth, even as those undergoing

punishment at the hands of keepers, their garments in confusion, or like

the broken kani flower; or some with bodies leaning in sleep against the

wall, in fashion like a hanging bow or horn, or with their hands holding

to the window-frames, and looking like an outstretched corpse. Their

mouths half opened or else gaping wide, the loathsome dribble trickling

forth, their heads uncovered and in wild disorder, like some unreasoning

madman's; the flower wreaths torn and hanging across their face, or

slipping off the face upon the ground; others with body raised as if in

fearful dread, just like the lonely desert bird; or others pillowed on

their neighbor's lap, their hands and feet entwined together, whilst

others smiled or knit their brows in turn; some with eyes closed and

open mouth, their bodies lying in wild disorder, stretched here and

there, like corpses thrown together. And now the prince seated, in his

beauty, looked with thought on all the waiting women; before, they had

appeared exceeding lovely, their laughing words, their hearts so light

and gay, their forms so plump and young, their looks so bright; but now,

how changed! so uninviting and repulsive. And such is woman's

disposition! how can they, then, be ever dear, or closely trusted; such

false appearances! and unreal pretences; they only madden and delude the

minds of men.

"And now," he said, "I have awakened to the truth! Resolved am I to

leave such false society." At this time the Deva of the Pure abode

descended and approached, unfastening the doors. The prince, too, at

this time rose and walked along, amid the prostrate forms of all the

women; with difficulty reaching the inner hall, he called to Kandaka, in

these words, "My mind is now athirst and longing for the draught of the

fountain of sweet dew; saddle then my horse, and quickly bring it here.

I wish to reach the deathless city; my heart is fixed beyond all change,

resolved I am and bound by sacred oath; these women, once so charming

and enticing, now behold I altogether loathsome; the gates, which were

before fast-barred and locked, now stand free and open! these evidences

of something supernatural, point to a climax of my life."

Then Kandaka stood reflecting inwardly, whether to obey or not the

prince's order, without informing his royal father of it, and so incur

the heaviest punishment.

The Devas then gave spiritual strength; and unperceived the horse

equipped came round, with even pace; a gallant steed, with all his

jewelled trappings for a rider; high-maned, with flowing tail,

broad-backed, short-haired and eared, with belly like the deer's, head

like the king of parrots, wide forehead, round and claw-shaped nostrils,

breath like the dragon's, with breast and shoulders square, true and

sufficient marks of his high breed. The royal prince, stroking the

horse's neck, and rubbing down his body, said, "My royal father ever

rode on thee, and found thee brave in fight and fearless of the foe; now

I desire to rely on thee alike! to carry me far off to the stream (ford)

of endless life, to fight against and overcome the opposing force of

men, the men who associate in search of pleasure, the men who engage in

the search after wealth, the crowds who follow and flatter such persons;

in opposing sorrow, friendly help is difficult to find, in seeking

religious truth there must be rare enlightenment, let us then be knit

together thus as friends; then, at last, there will be rest from sorrow.

But now I wish to go abroad, to give deliverance from pain; now then,

for your own sake it is, and for the sake of all your kind, that you

should exert your strength, with noble pace, without lagging or

weariness." Having thus exhorted him, he bestrode his horse, and

grasping the reins proceeded forth; the man like the sun shining forth

from his tabernacle, the horse like the white floating cloud, exerting

himself but without exciting haste, his breath concealed and without

snorting; four spirits (Devas) accompanying him, held up his feet,

heedfully concealing his advance, silently and without noise; the heavy

gates fastened and barred, the heavenly spirits of themselves caused to

open. Reverencing deeply the virtuous father, loving deeply the

unequalled son, equally affected with love towards all the members of

his family these Devas took their place.

Suppressing his feelings, but not extinguishing his memory, lightly he

advanced and proceeded beyond the city, pure and spotless as the lily

flowers which spring from the mud; looking up with earnestness at his

father's palace, he announced his purpose--unwitnessed and

unwritten--"If I escape not birth, old age, and death, for evermore I

pass not thus along." All the concourse of Devas, the space-filling

Nâgas and spirits followed joyfully and exclaimed, "Well! well!" in

confirmation of the true words he spoke. The Nâgas and the company of

Devas acquired a condition of heart difficult to obtain, and each with

his own inherent light led on the way shedding forth their brightness.

Thus man and horse, both strong of heart, went onwards, lost to sight

like streaming stars, but ere the eastern quarter flashed with light,

they had advanced three yoganas.

[Footnote 91: Mâra, the king of the world of desire. According to the

Buddhist theogony he is the god of sensual love. He holds the world in

sin. He was the enemy of Buddha, and endeavored in every way to defeat

him. He is also described as the king of death.]

[Footnote 92: That is, the Brahman wearing the twice-born thread.]

[Footnote 93: The "eternal draught" or "sweet dew" of Ambrosia. This

expression is constantly used in Buddhist writings. It corresponds with

the Pali amatam, which Childers explains as the "drink of the gods."]

[Footnote 94: The condition of the highest Deva, according to Buddhism,

does not exempt him from re-birth; subject to the calamities incident on

such a renewal of life.]

[Footnote 95: This seems to mean that those who had not received benefit

from the teaching of the four previous Buddhas, that even these were

placable and well-disposed.]

[Footnote 96: The description here given of the peace and content

prevailing in the world on the birth of Bodhisattva (and his name given

to him in consequence) resembles the account of the golden age in

classic authors.]

CHAPTER II

The Return of Kandaka

And now the night was in a moment gone, and sight restored to all

created things, when the royal prince looked through the wood, and saw

the abode of Po-ka, the Rishi. The purling streams so exquisitely pure

and sparkling, and the wild beasts all unalarmed at man, caused the

royal prince's heart to exult. Tired, the horse stopped of his own will,

to breathe. "This, then," he thought, "is a good sign and fortunate, and

doubtless indicates divine approval." And now he saw belonging to the

Rishi, the various vessels used for asking charity, and other things

arranged by him in order, without the slightest trace of negligence.

Dismounting then he stroked his horse's head, and cried, "You now have

borne me well!"

With loving eyes he looked at Kandaka: eyes like the pure cool surface

of a placid lake and said, "Swift-footed! like a horse in pace, yea!

swift as any light-winged bird, ever have you followed after me when

riding, and deeply have I felt my debt of thanks, but not yet had you

been tried in other ways; I only knew you as a man true-hearted, my mind

now wonders at your active powers of body; these two I now begin to see

are yours; a man may have a heart most true and faithful, but strength

of body may not too be his; bodily strength and perfect honesty of

heart, I now have proof enough are yours. To be content to leave the

tinselled world, and with swift foot to follow me, who would do this but

for some profit; if without profit to his kin, who would not shun it?

But you, with no private aim, have followed me, not seeking any present

recompense; as we nourish and bring up a child, to bind together and

bring honor to a family, so we also reverence and obey a father, to gain

obedience and attention from a begotten son; in this way all think of

their own advantage; but you have come with me disdaining profit; with

many words I cannot hold you here, so let me say in brief to you, we

have now ended our relationship; take, then, my horse and ride back

again; for me, during the long night past, that place I sought to reach

now I have obtained."

Then taking off his precious neck-chain, he handed it to Kandaka. "Take

this," he said, "I give it you, let it console you in your sorrow." The

precious jewel in the tire that bound his head, bright-shining, lighting

up his person, taking off and placing in his extended palm, like the sun

which lights up Sumeru, he said, "O Kandaka! take this gem, and going

back to where my father is, take the jewel and lay it reverently before

him, to signify my heart's relation to him; and then, for me, request

the king to stifle every fickle feeling of affection, and say that I, to

escape from birth and age and death, have entered on the wild forest of

painful discipline; not that I may get a heavenly birth, much less

because I have no tenderness of heart, or that I cherish any cause of

bitterness, but only that I may escape this weight of sorrow. The

accumulated long-night weight of covetous desire (love), I now desire to

ease the load so that it may be overthrown forever; therefore I seek the

way of ultimate escape; if I should obtain emancipation, then shall I

never need to put away my kindred, to leave my home, to sever ties of

love. O! grieve not for your son! The five desires of sense beget the

sorrow; those held by lust themselves induce the sorrow. My very

ancestors, victorious kings, thinking their throne established and

immovable, have handed down to me their kingly wealth; I, thinking only

on religion, put it all away; the royal mothers at the end of life their

cherished treasures leave for their sons, those sons who covet much such

worldly profit; but I rejoice to have acquired religious wealth; if you

say that I am young and tender, and that the time for seeking wisdom is

not come, you ought to know that to seek true religion, there never is a

time not fit; impermanence and fickleness, the hate of death, these ever

is time to seek religion. With such entreaties as the above, you must

make matters plain on my behalf; but, pray you, cause my father not to

think longingly after me; let him destroy all recollection of me, and

cut out from his soul the ties of love; and you, grieve not because of

what I say, but recollect to give the king my message."

Kandaka hearing respectfully the words of exhortation, blinded and

confused through choking sorrow, with hands outstretched did worship;

and answering the prince, he spoke, "The orders that you give me will, I

fear, add grief to grief, and sorrow thus increased will deepen, as the

elephant who struggles into deeper mire. When the ties of love are

rudely snapped, who, that has any heart, would not grieve! The golden

ore may still by stamping be broken up, how much more the feelings

choked with sorrow! the prince has grown up in a palace, with every care

bestowed upon his tender person, and now he gives his body to the rough

and thorny forest; how will he be able to bear a life of privation? When

first you ordered me to equip your steed, my mind was indeed sorely

troubled, but the heavenly powers urged me on, causing me to hasten the

preparation of the horse, but what is the intention that urges the

prince, to resolve thus to leave his secure palace? The people of

Kapilavastu, and all the country afflicted with grief; your father, now

an old man, mindful of his son, loving him moreover tenderly; surely

this determination to leave your home, this is not according to duty; it

is wrong, surely, to disregard father and mother--we cannot speak of

such a thing with propriety! Gotami, too, who has nourished you so long,

fed you with milk when a helpless child, such love as hers cannot easily

be forgotten; it is impossible surely to turn the back on a benefactor;

the highly gifted virtuous mother of a child, is ever respected by the

most distinguished families; to inherit distinction and then to turn

round, is not the mark of a distinguished man. The illustrious child of

Yasodharâ, who has inherited a kingdom, rightly governed, his years now

gradually ripening, should not thus go away from and forsake his home;

but though he has gone away from his royal father, and forsaken his

family and his kin, forbid it he should still drive me away, let me not

depart from the feet of my master; my heart is bound to thee, as the

heat is bound up in the boiling water. I cannot return without thee to

my country; to return and leave the prince thus, in the midst of the

solitude of the desert, then should I be like Sumanta, who left and

forsook Râma; and now if I return alone to the palace, what words can I

address to the king? How can I reply to the reproaches of all the

dwellers in the palace with suitable words? Therefore let the prince

rather tell me, how I may truly describe, and with what device, the

disfigured body, and the merit-seeking condition of the hermit! I am

full of fear and alarm, my tongue can utter no words; tell me then what

words to speak; but who is there in the empire will believe me? If I say

that the moon's rays are scorching, there are men, perhaps, who may

believe me; but they will not believe that the prince, in his conduct,

will act without piety; for the prince's heart is sincere and refined,

always actuated with pity and love to men. To be deeply affected with

love, and yet to forsake the object of love, this surely is opposed to a

constant mind. O then, for pity's sake! return to your home, and thus

appease my foolish longings."

The prince having listened to Kandaka, pitying his grief expressed in so

many words, with heart resolved and strong in its determination, spoke

thus to him once more, and said: "Why thus on my account do you feel the

pain of separation? you should overcome this sorrowful mood, it is for

you to comfort yourself; all creatures, each in its way, foolishly

arguing that all things are constant, would influence me to-day not to

forsake my kin and relatives; but when dead and come to be a ghost, how

then, let them say, can I be kept? My loving mother when she bore me,

with deep affection painfully carried me, and then when born she died,

not permitted to nourish me. One alive, the other dead, gone by

different roads, where now shall she be found? Like as in a wilderness,

on some high tree, all the birds living with their mates assemble in the

evening and at dawn disperse, so are the separations of the world; the

floating clouds rise like a high mountain, from the four quarters they

fill the void, in a moment again they are separated and disappear; so is

it with the habitations of men; people from the beginning have erred

thus, binding themselves in society and by the ties of love, and then,

as after a dream, all is dispersed; do not then recount the names of my

relatives; for like the wood which is produced in spring, gradually

grows and brings forth its leaves, which again fall in the

autumn-chilly-dews--if the different parts of the same body are thus

divided--how much more men who are united in society! and how shall the

ties of relationship escape rending? Cease therefore your grief and

expostulation, obey my commands and return home; the thought of your

return alone will save me, and perhaps after your return I also may come

back. The men of Kapilavastu, hearing that my heart is fixed, will

dismiss from their minds all thought of me, but you may make known my

words, 'when I have escaped from the sad ocean of birth and death, then

afterwards I will come back again; but I am resolved, if I obtain not my

quest, my body shall perish in the mountain wilds.'" The white horse

hearing the prince, as he uttered these true and earnest words, bent his

knee and licked his foot, whilst he sighed deeply and wept. Then the

prince with his soft and glossy palm, fondly stroking the head of the

white horse, said, "Do not let sorrow rise within, I grieve indeed at

losing you, my gallant steed--so strong and active, your merit now has

gained its end; you shall enjoy for long a respite from an evil birth,

but for the present take as your reward these precious jewels and this

glittering sword, and with them follow closely after Kandaka." The

prince then drawing forth his sword, glancing in the light as the

dragon's eye, cut off the knot of hair with its jewelled stud, and

forthwith cast it into space; ascending upwards to the firmament, it

floated there as the wings of the phoenix; then all the Devas of the

Trayastrimsa heavens seizing the hair, returned with it to their

heavenly abodes; desiring always to adore the feet (offer religious

service), how much rather now possessed of the crowning locks, with

unfeigned piety do they increase their adoration, and shall do till the

true law has died away.

Then the royal prince thought thus, "My adornments now are gone forever,

there only now remain these silken garments, which are not in keeping

with a hermit's life."

Then the Deva of the Pure abode, knowing the heart-ponderings of the

prince, transformed himself into a hunter's likeness, holding his bow,

his arrows in his girdle, his body girded with a Kashâya-colored robe,

thus he advanced in front of the prince. The prince considering this

garment of his, the color of the ground, a fitting pure attire, becoming

to the utmost the person of a Rishi, not fit for a hunter's dress,

forthwith called to the hunter, as he stood before him, in accents soft,

and thus addressed him: "That dress of thine belikes me much, as if it

were not foul, and this my dress I'll give thee in exchange, so please

thee."

The hunter then addressed the prince, "Although I ill can spare this

garment, which I use as a disguise among the deer, that alluring them

within reach I may kill them, notwithstanding, as it so pleases you, I

am now willing to bestow it in exchange for yours." The hunter having

received the sumptuous dress, took again his heavenly body.

The prince and Kandaka, the coachman, seeing this, thought deeply thus:

"This garment is of no common character, it is not what a worldly man

has worn"--and in the prince's heart great joy arose, as he regarded the

coat with double reverence, and forthwith giving all the other things to

Kandaka, he himself was clad in it, of Kashâya color; then like the dark

and lowering cloud, that surrounds the disc of the sun or moon, he for a

moment gazed, scanning his steps, then entered on the hermit's grot;

Kandaka following him with wistful eyes, his body disappeared, nor was

it seen again. "My lord and master now has left his father's house, his

kinsfolk and myself," he cried; "he now has clothed himself in hermit's

garb, and entered the painful forest." Raising his hands he called on

Heaven, o'erpowered with grief he could not move; till holding by the

white steed's neck, he tottered forward on the homeward road, turning

again and often looking back, his body going on, his heart

back-hastening; now lost in thought and self-forgetful, now looking down

to earth, then raising up his drooping eye to heaven, falling at times

and then rising again, thus weeping as he went, he pursued his way

homewards.

Entering the Place of Austerities

The prince having dismissed Kandaka, as he entered the Rishis' abode,

his graceful body brightly shining, lit up on every side the forest

"place of suffering"; himself gifted with every excellence, according to

his gifts, so were they reflected. As the lion, the king of beasts, when

he enters among the herd of beasts, drives from their minds all thoughts

of common things, as now they watch the true form of their kind, so

those Rishi masters assembled there, suddenly perceiving the miraculous

portent, were struck with awe and fearful gladness, as they gazed with

earnest eyes and hands conjoined. The men and women, engaged in various

occupations, beholding him, with unchanged attitudes, gazed as the gods

look on King Sakra, with constant look and eyes unmoved; so the Rishis,

with their feet fixed fast, looked at him even thus; whatever in their

hands they held, without releasing it, they stopped and looked; even as

the ox when yoked to the wain, his body bound, his mind also restrained;

so also the followers of the holy Rishis, each called the other to

behold the miracle. The peacocks and the other birds with cries

commingled flapped their wings; the Brahmakârins holding the rules of

deer, following the deer wandering through mountain glades, as the deer

coarse of nature, with flashing eyes, regard the prince with fixed gaze;

so following the deer, those Brahmakârins intently gaze likewise,

looking at the exceeding glory of the Ikshvâku. As the glory of the

rising sun is able to affect the herds of milch kine, so as to increase

the quantity of their sweet-scented milk, so those Brahmakârins, with

wondrous joy, thus spoke one to the other: "Surely this is one of the

eight Vasu Devas"; others, "this is one of the two Asvins"; others,

"this is Mâra"; others, "this is one of the Brahmakâyikas"; others,

"this is Sûryadeva or Kandradeva, coming down; are they not seeking here

a sacrifice which is their due? Come let us haste to offer our religious

services!"

The prince, on his part, with respectful mien addressed to them polite

salutation. Then Bodhisattva, looking with care in every direction on

the Brahmakârins occupying the wood, each engaged in his religious

duties, all desirous of the delights of heaven, addressed the senior

Brahmakârin, and asked him as to the path of true religion. "Now having

just come here, I do not yet know the rules of your religious life. I

ask you therefore for information, and I pray explain to me what I ask."

On this that twice-born (Brahman) in reply explained in succession all

the modes of painful discipline, and the fruits expected as their

result. How some ate nothing brought from inhabited places but that

produced from pure water, others edible roots and tender twigs, others

fruits and flowers fit for food, each according to the rules of his

sect, clothing and food in each case different; some living amongst

bird-kind, and like them capturing and eating food; others eating as the

deer the grass and herbs; others living like serpents, inhaling air;

others eating nothing pounded in wood or stone; some eating with two

teeth, till a wound be formed; others, again, begging their food and

giving it in charity, taking only the remnants for themselves; others,

again, who let water continually drip on their heads and those who offer

up with fire; others who practise water-dwelling like fish; thus there

are Brahmakârins of every sort, who practise austerities, that they may

at the end of life obtain a birth in heaven, and by their present

sufferings afterwards obtain peaceable fruit.

The lord of men, the excellent master, hearing all their modes of

sorrow-producing penance, not perceiving any element of truth in them,

experienced no joyful emotion in his heart; lost in thought, he regarded

the men with pity, and with his heart in agreement his mouth thus spake:

"Pitiful indeed are such sufferings! and merely in quest of a human or

heavenly reward, ever revolving in the cycle of birth or death, how

great your sufferings, how small the recompense! Leaving your friends,

giving up honorable position; with a firm purpose to obtain the joys of

heaven, although you may escape little sorrows, yet in the end involved

in great sorrow; promoting the destruction of your outward form, and

undergoing every kind of painful penance, and yet seeking to obtain

another birth; increasing and prolonging the causes of the five desires,

not considering that herefrom birth and death, undergoing suffering and,

by that, seeking further suffering; thus it is that the world of men,

though dreading the approach of death, yet strive after renewed birth;

and being thus born, they must die again. Although still dreading the

power of suffering, yet prolonging their stay in the sea of pain.

Disliking from their heart their present kind of life, yet still

striving incessantly after other life; enduring affliction that they may

partake of joy; seeking a birth in heaven, to suffer further trouble;

seeking joys, whilst the heart sinks with feebleness. For this is so

with those who oppose right reason; they cannot but be cramped and poor

at heart. But by earnestness and diligence, then we conquer. Walking in

the path of true wisdom, letting go both extremes, we then reach

ultimate perfection; to mortify the body, if this is religion, then to

enjoy rest, is something not resulting from religion. To walk

religiously and afterwards to receive happiness, this is to make the

fruit of religion something different from religion; but bodily exercise

is but the cause of death, strength results alone from the mind's

intention; if you remove from conduct the purpose of the mind, the

bodily act is but as rotten wood; wherefore, regulate the mind, and then

the body will spontaneously go right. You say that to eat pure things is

a cause of religious merit, but the wild beasts and the children of

poverty ever feed on these fruits and medicinal herbs; these then ought

to gain much religious merit. But if you say that the heart being good

then bodily suffering is the cause of further merit, then I ask why may

not those who live in ease, also possess a virtuous heart? If joys are

opposed to a virtuous heart, a virtuous heart may also be opposed to

bodily suffering; if, for instance, all those heretics profess purity

because they use water in various ways, then those who thus use water

among men, even with a wicked mind, yet ought ever to be pure. But if

righteousness is the groundwork of a Rishi's purity, then the idea of a

sacred spot as his dwelling, being the cause of his righteousness is

wrong. What is reverenced, should be known and seen. Reverence indeed is

due to righteous conduct, but let it not redound to the place or mode of

life."

Thus speaking at large on religious questions, they went on till the

setting sun. He then beheld their rites in connection with sacrifice to

fire, the drilling for sparks and the fanning into flame, also the

sprinkling of the butter libations, also the chanting of the mystic

prayers, till the sun went down. The prince considering these acts,

could not perceive the right reason of them, and was now desirous to

turn and go. Then all those Brahmakârins came together to him to request

him to stay; regarding with reverence the dignity of Bodhisattva, very

desirous, they earnestly besought him: "You have come from an

irreligious place, to this wood where true religion flourishes, and yet,

now, you wish to go away; we beg you, then, on this account, to stay."

All the old Brahmakârins, with their twisted hair and bark clothes, came

following after Bodhisattva, asking him as a god to stay a little while.

Bodhisattva seeing these aged ones following him, their bodies worn with

macerations, stood still and rested beneath a tree; and soothing them,

urged them to return. Then all the Brahmakârins, young and old,

surrounding him, made their request with joined hands: "You who have so

unexpectedly arrived here, amid these garden glades so full of

attraction, why now are you leaving them and going away, to seek

perfection in the wilderness? As a man loving long life, is unwilling to

let go his body, so we are even thus; would that you would stop awhile.

This is a spot where Brahmans and Rishis have ever dwelt, royal Rishis

and heavenly Rishis, these all have dwelt within these woods. The places

on the borders of the snowy mountains, where men of high birth undergo

their penance, those places are not to be compared to this. All the body

of learned masters from this place have reached heaven; all the learned

Rishis who have sought religious merit, have from this place and

northwards found it; those who have attained a knowledge of the true

law, and gained divine wisdom come not from southwards; if you indeed

see us remiss and not earnest enough, practising rules not pure, and on

that account are not pleased to stay, then we are the ones that ought to

go; you can still remain and dwell here; all these different

Brahmakârins ever desire to find companions in their penances. And you,

because you are conspicuous for your religious earnestness, should not

so quickly cast away their society: if you can remain here, they will

honor you as god Sakra, yea! as the Devas pay worship to Brihaspati."

Then Bodhisattva answered the Brahmakârins and told them what his

desires were: "I am seeking for a true method of escape, I desire solely

to destroy all mundane influences; but you, with strong hearts, practise

your rules as ascetics, and pay respectful attention to such visitors as

may come. My heart indeed is moved with affection towards you, for

pleasant conversation is agreeable to all, those who listen are affected

thereby; and so hearing your words, my mind is strengthened in religious

feeling; you indeed have all paid me much respect, in agreement with the

courtesy of your religious profession; but now I am constrained to

depart, my heart grieves thereat exceedingly: first of all, having left

my own kindred, and now about to be separated from you. The pain of

separation from associates, this pain is as great as the other; it is

impossible for my mind not to grieve, as it is not to see others'

faults. But you, by suffering pain, desire earnestly to obtain the joys

of birth in heaven; whilst I desire to escape from the three worlds, and

therefore I give up what my reason tells me must be rejected. The law

which you practise, you inherit from the deeds of former teachers, but

I, desiring to destroy all combination, seek a law which admits of no

such accident. And, therefore, I cannot in this grove delay for a longer

while in fruitless discussions."

At this time all the Brahmakârins, hearing the words spoken by

Bodhisattva, words full of right reason and truth, very excellent in the

distinction of principles, their hearts rejoiced and exulted greatly,

and deep feelings of reverence were excited within them.

At this time there was one Brahmakârin, who always slept in the dust,

with tangled hair and raiment of the bark of trees, his eyes bleared,

preparing himself in an ascetic practice called "high-nose."[97] This

one addressed Bodhisattva in the following words: "Strong in will!

bright in wisdom! firmly fixed in resolve to escape the limits of birth,

knowing that in escape from birth there alone is rest, not affected by

any desire after heavenly blessedness, the mind set upon the eternal

destruction of the bodily form, you are indeed miraculous in appearance,

as you are alone in the possession of such a mind. To sacrifice to the

gods, and to practise every kind of austerity, all this is designed to

secure a birth in heaven, but here there is no mortification of selfish

desire, there is still a selfish personal aim; but to bend the will to

seek final escape, this is indeed the work of a true teacher, this is

the aim of an enlightened master; this place is no right halting-place

for you; you ought to proceed to Mount Pinda: there dwells a great Muni,

whose name is A-lo-lam. He only has reached the end of religious aims,

the most excellent eye of the law. Go, therefore, to the place where he

dwells, and listen there to the true exposition of the law. This will

make your heart rejoice, as you learn to follow the precepts of his

system. As for me, beholding the joy of your resolve, and fearing that I

shall not obtain rest, I must once more let go those following me, and

seek other disciples; straighten my head and gaze with my full eyes;

anoint my lips and cleanse my teeth; cover my shoulders and make bright

my face, smooth my tongue and make it pliable. Thus, O excellently

marked sir! fully drinking at the fountain of the water you give, I

shall escape from the unfathomable depths. In the world nought is

comparable to this, that which old men and Rishis have not known, that

shall I know and obtain."

Bodhisattva having listened to these words, left the company of the

Rishis, whilst they all, turning round him to the right, returned to

their place.

The General Grief of the Palace

Kandaka leading back the horse, opening the way for his heart's sorrow,

as he went on, lamented and wept: unable to disburden his soul. First of

all with the royal prince, passing along the road for one night, but now

dismissed and ordered to return. As the darkness of night closed on him,

irresolute he wavered in mind. On the eighth day approaching the city,

the noble horse pressed onwards, exhibiting all his qualities of speed;

but yet hesitating as he looked around and beheld not the form of the

royal prince; his four members bent down with toil, his head and neck

deprived of their glossy look, whinnying as he went on with grief, he

refused night and day his grass and water, because he had lost his lord,

the deliverer of men. Returning thus to Kapilavastu, the whole country

appeared withered and bare, as when one comes back to a deserted

village; or as when the sun hidden behind Sumeru causes darkness to

spread over the world. The fountains of water sparkled no more, the

flowers and fruits were withered and dead, the men and women in the

streets seemed lost in grief and dismay. Thus Kandaka with the white

horse went on sadly and with slow advance, silent to those inquiring,

wearily progressing as when accompanying a funeral; so they went on,

whilst all the spectators seeing Kandaka, but not observing the royal

Sâkya prince, raised piteous cries of lamentation and wept; as when the

charioteer returned without Râma.

Then one by the side of the road, with his body bent, called out to

Kandaka: "The prince, beloved of the world, the defender of his people,

the one you have taken away by stealth, where dwells he now?" Kandaka,

then, with sorrowful heart, replied to the people and said: "I with

loving purpose followed after him whom I loved; 'tis not I who have

deserted the prince, but by him have I been sent away; by him who now

has given up his ordinary adornments, and with shaven head and religious

garb, has entered the sorrow-giving grove."

Then the men hearing that he had become an ascetic, were oppressed with

thoughts of wondrous boding; they sighed with heaviness and wept, and as

their tears coursed down their cheeks, they spake thus one to the other:

"What then shall we do?" Then they all exclaimed at once, "Let us haste

after him in pursuit; for as when a man's bodily functions fail, his

frame dies and his spirit flees, so is the prince our life, and he our

life gone, how shall we survive? This city, perfected with slopes and

woods; those woods, that cover the slopes of the city, all deprived of

grace, ye lie as Bharata when killed!"

Then the men and women within the town, vainly supposing the prince had

come back, in haste rushed out to the heads of the way, and seeing the

horse returning alone, not knowing whether the prince was safe or lost,

began to weep and to raise every piteous sound; and said, "Behold!

Kandaka advancing slowly with the horse, comes back with sighs and

tears; surely he grieves because the prince is lost." And thus sorrow is

added to sorrow!

Then like a captive warrior is drawn before the king his master, so did

he enter the gates with tears, his eyes filled so that he said nought.

Then looking up to heaven he loudly groaned; and the white horse too

whined piteously; then all the varied birds and beasts in the palace

court, and all the horses within the stables, hearing the sad whinnying

of the royal steed, replied in answer to him, thinking "now the prince

has come back." But seeing him not, they ceased their cries!

And now the women of the after-palace, hearing the cries of the horses,

birds, and beasts, their hair dishevelled, their faces wan and yellow,

their forms sickly to look at, their mouths and lips parched, their

garments torn and unwashed, the soil and heat not cleansed from their

bodies, their ornaments all thrown aside, disconsolate and sad,

cheerless in face, raised their bodies, without any grace, even as the

feeble little morning star; their garments torn and knotted, soiled like

the appearance of a robber, seeing Kandaka and the royal horse shedding

tears instead of the hoped-for return, they all, assembled thus, uttered

their cry, even as those who weep for one beloved just dead. Confused

and wildly they rushed about, as a herd of oxen that have lost their

way.

Mahâpragâpati Gotamî, hearing that the prince had not returned, fell

fainting on the ground, her limbs entirely deprived of strength, even as

some mad tornado wind crushes the golden-colored plantain tree; and

again, hearing that her son had become a recluse, deeply sighing and

with increased sadness she thought, "Alas! those glossy locks turning to

the right, each hair produced from each orifice, dark and pure,

gracefully shining, sweeping the earth when loose,[98] or when so

determined, bound together in a heavenly crown, and now shorn and lying

in the grass! Those rounded shoulders and that lion step! Those eyes

broad as the ox-king's, that body shining bright as yellow gold; that

square breast and Brahma voice; that you! possessing all these excellent

qualities, should have entered on the sorrow-giving forest; what fortune

now remains for the world, losing thus the holy king of earth? That

those delicate and pliant feet, pure as the lily and of the same color,

should now be torn by stones and thorns; O how can such feet tread on

such ground! Born and nourished in the guarded palace, clad with

garments of the finest texture, washed in richly scented water, anointed

with the choicest perfumes, and now exposed to chilling blasts and dews

of night, O! where during the heat or the chilly morn can rest be found!

Thou flower of all thy race! Confessed by all the most renowned! Thy

virtuous qualities everywhere talked of and exalted, ever reverenced,

without self-seeking! why hast thou unexpectedly brought thyself upon

some morn to beg thy food for life! Thou who wert wont to repose upon a

soft and kingly couch, and indulge in every pleasure during thy waking

hours: how canst thou endure the mountain and the forest wilds, on the

bare grass to make thyself a resting-place!"

Thus thinking of her son--her heart was full of sorrow, disconsolate she

lay upon the earth. The waiting women raised her up, and dried the tears

from off her face, whilst all the other courtly ladies, overpowered with

grief, their limbs relaxed, their minds bound fast with woe, unmoved

they sat like pictured-folk.

And now Yasodharâ, deeply chiding, spoke thus to Kandaka: "Where now

dwells he, who ever dwells within my mind? You two went forth, the horse

a third, but now two only have returned! My heart is utterly o'erborne

with grief, filled with anxious thoughts, it cannot rest. And you,

deceitful man! Untrustworthy and false associate! evil contriver!

plainly revealed a traitor, a smile lurks underneath thy tears!

Escorting him in going; returning now with wails! Not one at heart--but

in league against him--openly constituted a friend and well-wisher,

concealing underneath a treacherous purpose; so thou hast caused the

sacred prince to go forth once and not return again! No questioning the

joy you feel! Having done ill you now enjoy the fruit; better far to

dwell with an enemy of wisdom, than work with one who, while a fool,

professes friendship. Openly professing sweetness and light, inwardly a

scheming and destructive enemy. And now this royal and kingly house, in

one short morn is crushed and ruined! All these fair and queen-like

women, with grief o'erwhelmed, their beauty marred, their breathing

choked with tears and sobs, their faces soiled with crossing tracks of

grief! Even the queen (Mâyâ) when in life, resting herself on him, as

the great snowy mountains repose upon the widening earth, through grief

in thought of what would happen, died. How sad the lot of these--within

these open lattices--these weeping ones, these deeply wailing! Born in

another state than hers in heaven, how can their grief be borne!" Then

speaking to the horse she said, "Thou unjust! what dulness this--to

carry off a man, as in the darkness some wicked thief bears off a

precious gem. When riding thee in time of battle, swords, and javelins

and arrows, none of these alarmed or frighted thee! But now what

fitfulness of temper this, to carry off by violence, to rob my soul of

one, the choicest jewel of his tribe. O! thou art but a vicious reptile,

to do such wickedness as this! to-day thy woeful lamentation sounds

everywhere within these palace walls, but when you stole away my

cherished one, why wert thou dumb and silent then! if then thy voice had

sounded loud, and roused the palace inmates from their sleep, if then

they had awoke and slumbered not, there would not have ensued the

present sorrow."

Kandaka, hearing these sorrowful words, drawing in his breath and

composing himself, wiping away his tears, with hands clasped together,

answered: "Listen to me, I pray, in self-justification--be not

suspicious of, nor blame the royal horse, nor be thou angry with me,

either. For in truth no fault has been committed by us. It is the gods

who have effected this. For I, indeed, extremely reverenced the king's

command, it was the gods who drove him to the solitudes, urgently

leading on the horse with him: thus they went together fleet as with

wings, his breathing hushed! suppressed was every sound, his feet scarce

touched the earth! The city gates wide opening of themselves! all space

self-lighted! this was the work indeed of the gods; and what was I, or

what my strength, compared with theirs?"

Yasodharâ hearing these words, her heart was lost in deep consideration!

the deeds accomplished by the gods could not be laid to others' charge,

as faults; and so she ceased her angry chiding, and allowed her great

consuming grief to smoulder. Thus prostrate on the ground she muttered

out her sad complaints, "That the two doves should be divided! Now," she

cried, "my stay and my support is lost, between those once agreed in

life, separation has sprung up! those who were at one as to religion are

now divided! where shall I seek another mode of life? In olden days the

former conquerors greatly rejoiced to see their kingly retinue; these

with their wives in company, in search of highest wisdom, roamed through

groves and plains. And now, that he should have deserted me! and what is

the religious state he seeks! the Brahman ritual respecting sacrifice,

requires the wife to take part in the offering, and because they both

share in the service they shall both receive a common reward hereafter!

but you O prince! art niggard in your religious rites, driving me away,

and wandering forth alone! Is it that you saw me jealous, and so turned

against me! that you now seek someone free from jealousy! or did you see

some other cause to hate me, that you now seek to find a heaven-born

nymph! But why should one excelling in every personal grace seek to

practise self-denying austerities! is it that you despise a common lot

with me, that variance rises in your breast against your wife! Why does

not Râhula fondly repose upon your knee. Alas! alas! unlucky master!

full of grace without, but hard at heart! The glory and the pride of all

your tribe, yet hating those who reverence you! O! can it be, you have

turned your back for good upon your little child, scarce able yet to

smile! My heart is gone! and all my strength! my lord has fled, to

wander in the mountains! he cannot surely thus forget me! he is then but

a man of wood or stone." Thus having spoken, her mind was dulled and

darkened, she muttered on, or spoke in wild mad words, or fancied that

she saw strange sights, and sobbing past the power of self-restraint,

her breath grew less, and sinking thus, she fell asleep upon the dusty

ground! The palace ladies seeing this, were wrung with heartfelt sorrow,

just as the full-blown lily, struck by the wind and hail, is broken down

and withered.

And now the king, his father, having lost the prince, was filled, both

night and day, with grief; and fasting, sought the gods for help. He

prayed that they would soon restore him, and having prayed and finished

sacrifice, he went from out the sacred gates; then hearing all the cries

and sounds of mourning, his mind distressed became confused, as when

heaven's thundering and lightning put to bewildering flight a herd of

elephants. Then seeing Kandaka with the royal steed, after long

questioning, finding his son a hermit, fainting he fell upon the earth,

as when the flag of Indra falls and breaks. Then all the ministers of

state, upraising him, exhort him, as was right, to calm himself. After

awhile, his mind somewhat recovered, speaking to the royal steed, he

said: "How often have I ridden thee to battle, and every time have

thought upon your excellence! but now I hate and loathe thee, more than

ever I have loved or praised thee! My son, renowned for noble qualities,

thou hast carried off and taken from me; and left him 'mid the mountain

forests; and now you have come back alone; take me, then, quickly hence

and go! And going, never more come back with me! For since you have not

brought him back, my life is worth no more preserving; no longer care I

about governing! My son about me was my only joy; as the Brahman Gayanta

met death for his son's sake, so I, deprived of my religious son, will

of myself deprive myself of life. So Manu, lord of all that lives, ever

lamented for his son; how much more I, a mortal man deprived of mine,

must lose all rest! In old time the king Aga, loving his son, wandering

through the mountains, lost in thought, ended life, and forthwith was

born in heaven. And now I cannot die! Through the long night fixed in

this sad state, with this great palace round me, thinking of my son,

solitary and athirst as any hungry spirit; as one who, thirsty, holding

water in his hand, but when he tries to drink lets all escape, and so

remains athirst till death ensues, and after death becomes a wandering

ghost; so I, in the extremity of thirst, through loss, possessed once of

a son, but now without a son, still live and cannot end my days! But

come! tell me at once where is my son! let me not die athirst for want

of knowing this and fall among the Pretas. In former days, at least, my

will was strong and firm, difficult to move as the great earth; but now

I've lost my son, my mind is dazed, as was in old time the king

Dasaratha's."

And now the royal teacher (Purohita), an illustrious sage, with the

chief minister, famed for wisdom, with earnest and considerate minds,

both exhorted with remonstrances, the king. "Pray you (they said) arouse

yourself to thought, and let not grief cramp and hold your mind! in

olden days there were mighty kings, who left their country, as flowers

are scattered; your son now practises the way of wisdom; why then nurse

your grief and misery; you should recall the prophecy of Asita, and

reasonably count on what was probable! Think of the heavenly joys which

you, a universal king, have inherited! But now, so troubled and

constrained in mind, how will it not be said, 'The Lord of earth can

change his golden-jewel-heart!' Now, therefore, send us forth, and bid

us seek the place he occupies, then by some stratagem and strong

remonstrances, and showing him our earnestness of purpose, we will break

down his resolution, and thus assuage your kingly sorrow."

The king, with joy, replied and said: "Would that you both would go in

haste, as swiftly as the Saketa bird flies through the void for her

young's sake; thinking of nought but the royal prince, and sad at

heart--I shall await your search!"

The two men having received their orders, the king retired among his

kinsfolk, his heart somewhat more tranquillized, and breathing freely

through his throat.

The Mission to Seek the Prince

The king now suppressing his grief, urged on his great teacher and chief

minister, as one urges on with whip a ready horse, to hasten onwards as

the rapid stream; whilst they fatigued, yet with unflagging effort, come

to the place of the sorrow-giving grove; then laying on one side the

five outward marks of dignity and regulating well their outward

gestures, they entered the Brahmans' quiet hermitage, and paid reverence

to the Rishis. They, on their part, begged them to be seated, and

repeated the law for their peace and comfort.

Then forthwith they addressed the Rishis and said: "We have on our minds

a subject on which we would ask for advice. There is one who is called

Suddhodana râga, a descendant of the famous Ikshvâku family, we are his

teacher and his minister, who instruct him in the sacred books as

required. The king indeed is like Indra for dignity; his son, like

Ke-yan-to, in order to escape old age, disease, and death, has become a

hermit, and depends on this; on his account have we come hither, with a

view to let your worships know of this."

Replying, they said: "With respect to this youth, has he long arms and

the signs of a great man? Surely he is the one who, inquiring into our

practice, discoursed so freely on the matter of life and death. He has

gone to the abode of Arâda, to seek for a complete mode of escape."

Having received this certain information, respectfully considering the

urgent commands of the anxious king, they dared not hesitate in their

undertaking, but straightway took the road and hastened on. Then seeing

the wood in which the royal prince dwelt, and him, deprived of all

outward marks of dignity, his body still glorious with lustrous shining,

as when the sun comes forth from the black cloud; then the religious

teacher of the country and the great minister holding to the true law,

put off from them their courtly dress, and descending from the chariot

gradually advanced, like the royal Po-ma-ti and the Rishi Vasishtha,

went through the woods and forests, and seeing the royal prince Râma,

each according to his own prescribed manner, paid him reverence, as he

advanced to salute him; or as Sukra, in company with Angiras, with

earnest heart paid reverence, and sacrificed to Indra râga.

Then the royal prince in return paid reverence to the royal teacher and

the great minister, as the divine Indra placed at their ease Sukra and

Angiras; then, at his command, the two men seated themselves before the

prince, as Pou-na and Pushya, the twin stars attend beside the moon;

then the Purohita and the great minister respectfully explained to the

royal prince, even as Pi-li-po-ti spoke to that Gayanta: "Your royal

father, thinking of the prince, is pierced in heart, as with an iron

point; his mind distracted, raves in solitude; he sleeps upon the dusty

ground; by night and day he adds to his sorrowful reflections; his tears

flow down like the incessant rain; and now to seek you out, he has sent

us hither. Would that you would listen with attentive mind; we know that

you delight to act religiously; it is certain, then, without a doubt,

this is not the time for you to enter the forest wilds; a feeling of

deep pity consumes our heart! You, if you be indeed moved by religion,

ought to feel some pity for our case; let your kindly feelings flow

abroad, to comfort us who are worn at heart; let not the tide of sorrow

and of sadness completely overwhelm the outlets of our heart; as the

torrents which roll down the grassy mountains; or the calamities of

tempest, fiery heat, and lightning; for so the grieving heart has these

four sorrows, turmoil and drought, passion and overthrow. But come!

return to your native place, the time will arrive when you can go forth

again as a recluse. But now to disregard your family duties, to turn

against father and mother, how can this be called love and affection?

that love which overshadows and embraces all. Religion requires not the

wild solitudes; you can practise a hermit's duties in your home;

studiously thoughtful, diligent in expedients, this is to lead a

hermit's life in truth. A shaven head, and garments soiled with dirt--to

wander by yourself through desert wilds--this is but to encourage

constant fears, and cannot be rightly called 'an awakened hermit's

life.' Would rather we might take you by the hand, and sprinkle water on

your head, and crown you with a heavenly diadem, and place you

underneath a flowery canopy, that all eyes might gaze with eagerness

upon you; after this, in truth, we would leave our home with joy. The

former kings, Teou-lau-ma, A-neou-ke-o-sa, Po-ke-lo-po-yau,

Pi-po-lo-'anti, Pi-ti-o-ke-na, Na-lo-sha-po-lo, all these several kings

refused not the royal crown, the jewels, and the ornaments of person;

their hands and feet were adorned with gems, around them were women to

delight and please, these things they cast not from them, for the sake

of escape; you then may also come back home, and undertake both

necessary duties; your mind prepare itself in higher law, whilst for the

sake of earth you wield the sceptre; let there be no more weeping, but

comply with what we say, and let us publish it; and having published it

with your authority, then you may return and receive respectful welcome.

Your father and your mother, for your sake, in grief shed tears like the

great ocean; having no stay and no dependence now--no source from which

the Sâkya stem may grow--you ought, like the captain of the ship, to

bring it safely across to a place of safety. The royal prince Pi-san-ma,

as also Lo-me-po-ti, they respectfully attended to the command of their

father: you also should do the same! Your loving mother who cherished

you so kindly, with no regard for self, through years of care, as the

cow deprived of her calf, weeps and laments, forgetting to eat or sleep;

you surely ought to return to her at once, to protect her life from

evil; as a solitary bird, away from its fellows, or as the lonely

elephant, wandering through the jungle, losing the care of their young,

ever think of protecting and defending them, so you the only child,

young and defenceless, not knowing what you do, bring trouble and

solicitude; cause, then, this sorrow to dissipate itself; as one who

rescues the moon from being devoured, so do you reassure the men and

women of the land, and remove from them the consuming grief, and

suppress the sighs that rise like breath to heaven, which cause the

darkness that obscures their sight; seeking you, as water, to quench the

fire; the fire quenched, their eyes shall open."

Bodhisattva, hearing of his father the king, experienced the greatest

distress of mind, and sitting still, gave himself to reflection; and

then, in due course, replied respectfully: "I know indeed that my royal

father is possessed of a loving and deeply considerate mind, but my fear

of birth, old age, disease, and death, has led me to disobey, and

disregard his extreme kindness. Whoever neglects right consideration

about his present life, and because he hopes to escape in the end,

therefore disregards all precautions in the present: on this man comes

the inevitable doom of death. It is the knowledge of this, therefore,

that weighs with me, and after long delay has constrained me to a

hermit's life; hearing of my father, the king, and his grief, my heart

is affected with increased love; but yet, all is like the fancy of a

dream, quickly reverting to nothingness. Know then, without fear of

contradiction, that the nature of existing things is not uniform; the

cause of sorrow is not necessarily the relationship of child with

parent, but that which produces the pain of separation, results from the

influence of delusion; as men going along a road suddenly meet midway

with others, and then a moment more are separated, each one going his

own way, so by the force of concomitance, relationships are framed, and

then, according to each one's destiny, there is separation; he who

thoroughly investigates this false connection of relationship ought not

to cherish in himself grief; in this world there is rupture of family

love, in another life it is sought for again; brought together for a

moment, again rudely divided, everywhere the fetters of kindred are

formed! Ever being bound, and ever being loosened! who can sufficiently

lament such constant separations; born into the world, and then

gradually changing, constantly separated by death and then born again.

All things which exist in time must perish; the forests and mountains,

all things that exist; in time are born all sensuous things, so is it

both with worldly substance and with time. Because, then, death pervades

all time, get rid of death, and time will disappear. You desire to make

me king, and it is difficult to resist the offices of love; but as a

disease is difficult to bear without medicine, so neither can I bear

this weight of dignity; in every condition, high or low, we find folly

and ignorance, and men carelessly following the dictates of lustful

passion; at last, we come to live in constant fear; thinking anxiously

of the outward form, the spirit droops; following the ways of men, the

mind resists the right; but, the conduct of the wise is not so. The

sumptuously ornamented and splendid palace I look upon as filled with

fire; the hundred dainty dishes of the divine kitchen, as mingled with

destructive poisons; the lily growing on the tranquil lake, in its midst

harbors countless noisome insects; and so the towering abode of the rich

is the house of calamity; the wise will not dwell therein. In former

times illustrious kings, seeing the many crimes of their home and

country, affecting as with poison the dwellers therein, in sorrowful

disgust sought comfort in seclusion; we know, therefore, that the

troubles of a royal estate are not to be compared with the repose of a

religious life; far better dwell in the wild mountains, and eat the

herbs like the beasts of the field; therefore I dare not dwell in the

wide palace, for the black snake has its dwelling there. I reject the

kingly estate and the five desires; to escape such sorrows I wander

through the mountain wilds. This, then, would be the consequence of

compliance: that I, who, delighting in religion, am gradually getting

wisdom, should now quit these quiet woods, and returning home, partake

of sensual pleasures, and thus by night and day increase my store of

misery. Surely this is not what should be done! that the great leader of

an illustrious tribe, having left his home from love of religion, and

forever turned his back upon tribal honor, desiring to confirm his

purpose as a leader--that he--discarding outward form, clad in religious

garb, loving religious meditation, wandering through the wilds--should

now reject his hermit vestment, tread down his sense of proper shame and

give up his aim. This, though I gained heaven's kingly state, cannot be

done! how much less to gain an earthly, though distinguished, home!

"For having spewed forth lust, passion, and ignorance, shall I return to

feed upon it? as a man might go back to his vomit! such misery, how

could I bear? Like a man whose house has caught fire, by some expedient

finds a way to escape, will such a man forthwith go back and enter it

again? such conduct would disgrace a man! So I, beholding the evils,

birth, old age, and death, to escape the misery, have become a hermit;

shall I then go back and enter in, and like a fool dwell in their

company? He who enjoys a royal estate and yet seeks rescue, cannot dwell

thus, this is no place for him; escape is born from quietness and rest;

to be a king is to add distress and poison; to seek for rest and yet

aspire to royal condition are but contradictions; royalty and rescue,

motion and rest, like fire and water, having two principles, cannot be

united. So one resolved to seek escape cannot abide possessed of kingly

dignity! And if you say a man may be a king, and at the same time

prepare deliverance for himself, there is no certainty in this! to seek

certain escape is not to risk it thus; it is through this uncertain

frame of mind that once a man gone forth is led to go back home again;

but I, my mind is not uncertain; severing the baited hook of

relationship, with straightforward purpose, I have left my home. Then

tell me, why should I return again?"

The great minister, inwardly reflecting, thought, "The mind of the royal

prince, my master, is full of wisdom, and agreeable to virtue, what he

says is reasonable and fitly framed." Then he addressed the prince and

said: "According to what your highness states, he who seeks religion

must seek it rightly; but this is not the fitting time for you; your

royal father, old and of declining years, thinking of you his son, adds

grief to grief; you say indeed, 'I find my joy in rescue. To go back

would be apostasy.' But yet your joy denotes unwisdom, and argues want

of deep reflection; you do not see, because you seek the fruit, how vain

to give up present duty. There are some who say, There is 'hereafter';

others there are who say, 'Nothing hereafter.' So whilst this question

hangs in suspense, why should a man give up his present pleasure? If

perchance there is 'hereafter,' we ought to bear patiently what it

brings; if you say, 'Hereafter is not,' then there is not either

salvation! If you say, 'Hereafter is,' you would not say, 'Salvation

causes it.' As earth is hard, or fire is hot, or water moist, or wind is

mobile, 'Hereafter' is just so. It has its own distinct nature. So when

we speak of pure and impure, each comes from its own distinctive nature.

If you should say, 'By some contrivance this can be removed,' such an

opinion argues folly. Every root within the moral world has its own

nature predetermined; loving remembrance and forgetfulness, these have

their nature fixed and positive; so likewise age, disease, and death,

these sorrows, who can escape by strategy? If you say, 'Water can put

out fire,' or 'Fire can cause water to boil and pass away,' then this

proves only that distinctive natures may be mutually destructive; but

nature in harmony produces living things; so man when first conceived

within the womb, his hands, his feet, and all his separate members, his

spirit and his understanding, of themselves are perfected; but who is he

who does it? Who is he that points the prickly thorn? This too is

nature, self-controlling. And take again the different kinds of beasts,

these are what they are, without desire on their part; and so, again,

the heaven-born beings, whom the self-existent (Isvara) rules, and all

the world of his creation; these have no self-possessed power of

expedients; for if they had a means of causing birth, there would be

also means for controlling death, and then what need of

self-contrivance, or seeking for deliverance? There are those who say,

'I' (the soul) is the cause of birth, and others who affirm, 'I' (the

soul) is the cause of death. There are some who say, 'Birth comes from

nothingness, and without any plan of ours we perish.' Thus one is born a

fortunate child, removed from poverty, of noble family, or learned in

testamentary lore of Rishis, or called to offer mighty sacrifices to the

gods, born in either state, untouched by poverty, then their famous name

becomes to them 'escape,' their virtues handed down by name to us; yet

if these attained their happiness, without contrivance of their own, how

vain and fruitless is the toil of those who seek 'escape.' And you,

desirous of deliverance, purpose to practise some high expedient, whilst

your royal father frets and sighs; for a short while you have essayed

the road, and leaving home have wandered through the wilds, to return

then would not now be wrong; of old, King Ambarisha for a long while

dwelt in the grievous forest, leaving his retinue and all his kinsfolk,

but afterwards returned and took the royal office; and so Râma, son of

the king of the country, leaving his country occupied the mountains, but

hearing he was acting contrary to usage, returned and governed

righteously. And so the king of Sha-lo-po, called To-lo-ma, father and

son, both wandered forth as hermits, but in the end came back again

together; so Po-'sz-tsau Muni, with On-tai-tieh, in the wild mountains

practising as Brahmakârins, these too returned to their own country.

Thus all these worthies of a by-gone age, famous for their advance in

true religion, came back home and royally governed, as lamps

enlightening the world. Wherefore for you to leave the mountain wilds,

religiously to rule, is not a crime."

The royal prince, listening to the great minister's loving words without

excess of speaking, full of sound argument, clear and unconfused, with

no desire to wrangle after the way of the schools, with fixed purpose,

deliberately speaking, thus answered the great minister: "The question

of being and not being is an idle one, only adding to the uncertainty of

an unstable mind, and to talk of such matters I have no strong

inclination; purity of life, wisdom, the practice of asceticism, these

are matters to which I earnestly apply myself, the world is full of

empty studies which our teachers in their office skilfully involve; but

they are without any true principle, and I will none of them! The

enlightened man distinguishes truth from falsehood; but how can truth be

born from such as those? For they are like the man born blind, leading

the blind man as a guide; as in the night, as in thick darkness both

wander on, what recovery is there for them? Regarding the question of

the pure and impure, the world involved in self-engendered doubt cannot

perceive the truth; better to walk along the way of purity, or rather

follow the pure law of self-denial, hate the practice of impurity,

reflect on what was said of old, not obstinate in one belief or one

tradition, with sincere mind accepting all true words, and ever

banishing sinful sorrow (i.e. sin, the cause of grief). Words which

exceed sincerity are vainly spoken; the wise man uses not such words. As

to what you say of Râma and the rest, leaving their home, practising a

pure life, and then returning to their country, and once more mixing

themselves in sensual pleasures, such men as these walk vainly; those

who are wise place no dependence on them. Now, for your sakes, permit

me, briefly, to recount this one true principle of action: The sun, the

moon may fall to earth, Sumeru and all the snowy mountains overturn, but

I will never change my purpose; rather than enter a forbidden place, let

me be cast into the fierce fire; not to accomplish rightly what I have

entered on, and to return once more to my own land, there to enter the

fire of the five desires, let it befall me as my own oath records." So

spake the prince, his arguments as pointed as the brightness of the

perfect sun; then rising up he passed some distance off.

The Purohita and the minister, their words and discourse prevailing

nothing, conversed together, after which, resolving to depart on their

return, with great respect they quietly inform the prince, not daring to

intrude their presence on him further; and yet regarding the king's

commands, not willing to return with unbecoming haste. They loitered

quietly along the way, and whomsoever they encountered, selecting those

who seemed like wise men, they interchanged such thoughts as move the

learned, hiding their true position, as men of title; then passing on,

they speeded on their way.

[Footnote 97: That is, raising his nose to look up at the sun.]

[Footnote 98: This description of the prince's hair seems to contradict

the head arrangement of the figures of Buddha, unless the curls denote

the shaven head of the recluse.]

CHAPTER III

Bimbisâra Raga Invites the Prince

The royal prince, departing from the court-master (i.e. the Purohita)

and the great minister, Saddharma, keeping along the stream, then

crossing the Ganges, he took the road towards the Vulture Peak,[99]

hidden among the five mountains, standing alone a lovely peak as a roof

amid the others. The trees and shrubs and flowers in bloom, the flowing

fountains, and the cooling rills; all these he gazed upon--then passing

on, he entered the city of the five peaks, calm and peaceful, as one

come down from heaven. The country folk, seeing the royal prince, his

comeliness and his excessive grace, though young in years, yet glorious

in his person, incomparable as the appearance of a great master, seeing

him thus, strange thoughts affected them, as if they gazed upon the

banner of Isvara. They stayed the foot, who passed athwart the path;

those hastened on, who were behind; those going before, turned back

their heads and gazed with earnest, wistful look. The marks and

distinguishing points of his person, on these they fixed their eyes

without fatigue, and then approached with reverent homage, joining both

their hands in salutation. With all there was a sense of wondrous joy,

as in their several ways they offered what they had, looking at his

noble and illustrious features; bending down their bodies modestly,

correcting every careless or unseemly gesture, thus they showed their

reverence to him silently; those who with anxious heart, seeking

release, were moved by love, with feelings composed, bowed down the

more. Great men and women, in their several engagements, at the same

time arrested on their way, paid to his person and his presence homage:

and following him as they gazed, they went not back. For the white

circle between his eyebrows adorning his wide and violet-colored eyes,

his noble body bright as gold, his pure and web-joined fingers, all

these, though he were but a hermit, were marks of one who was a holy

king; and now the men and women of Râgagriha, the old and young alike,

were moved, and cried, "This man so noble as a recluse, what common joy

is this for us!" At this time Bimbisâra Râga, placed upon a high tower

of observation, seeing all those men and women, in different ways

exhibiting one mark of surprise, calling before him some man outside,

inquired at once the cause of it; this one bending his knee below the

tower, told fully what he had seen and heard, "That one of the Sâkya

race, renowned of old, a prince most excellent and wonderful, divinely

wise, beyond the way of this world, a fitting king to rule the eight

regions, now without home, is here, and all men are paying homage to

him."

The king on hearing this was deeply moved at heart, and though his body

was restrained, his soul had gone. Calling his ministers speedily before

him, and all his nobles and attendants, he bade them follow secretly the

prince's steps, to observe what charity was given. So, in obedience to

the command, they followed and watched him steadfastly, as with even

gait and unmoved presence he entered on the town and begged his food,

according to the rule of all great hermits, with joyful mien and

undisturbed mind, not anxious whether much or little alms were given;

whatever he received, costly or poor, he placed within his bowl, then

turned back to the wood, and having eaten it and drunk of the flowing

stream, he joyous sat upon the immaculate mountain. There he beheld the

green trees fringing with their shade the crags, the scented flowers

growing between the intervals, whilst the peacocks and the other birds,

joyously flying, mingled their notes; his sacred garments bright and

lustrous, shone as the sun-lit mulberry leaves; the messengers beholding

his fixed composure, one by one returning, reported what they had seen;

the king hearing it, was moved at heart, and forthwith ordered his royal

equipment to be brought, his god-like crown and his flower-bespangled

robes; then, as the lion-king, he strode forth, and choosing certain

aged persons of consideration, learned men, able calmly and wisely to

discriminate, he, with them, led the way, followed by a hundred thousand

people, who like a cloud ascended with the king the royal mountain.

And now beholding the dignity of Bodhisattva, every outward gesture

under government, sitting with ease upon the mountain crag, as the moon

shining limpid in the pure heavens, so was his matchless beauty and

purity of grace; then as the converting presence of religion dwelling

within the heart makes it reverential, so, beholding him, he reverently

approached, even as divine Sâkara comes to the presence of Mo-hi-su-ma,

so with every outward form of courtesy and reverence the king approached

and asked him respectfully of his welfare.

Bodhisattva, answering as he was moved, in his turn made similar

inquiries. Then the king, the questioning over, sat down with dignity

upon a clean-faced rock. And so he steadfastly beheld the divine

appearance of the prince, the sweetness and complacency of his features

revealing what his station was and high estate, his family renown,

received by inheritance; the king, who for a time restrained his

feelings, now wishful to get rid of doubts, inquired why one descended

from the royal family of the sun-brightness having attended to religious

sacrifices through ten thousand generations, whereof the virtue had

descended as his full inheritance, increasing and accumulating until

now, why he so excellent in wisdom, so young in years, had now become a

recluse, rejecting the position of a Kakravartin's son, begging his

food, despising family fame, his beauteous form, fit for perfumes and

anointings, why clothed with coarse Kasâya garments; the hand which

ought to grasp the reins of empire, instead thereof, taking its little

stint of food; if indeed (the king continued) you were not of royal

descent, and would receive as an offering the transfer of this land,

then would I divide with you my empire; saying this, he scarcely hoped

to excite his feelings, who had left his home and family, to be a

hermit. Then forthwith the king proceeded thus: "Give just weight I pray

you to my truthful words: desire for power is kin to nobleness, and so

is just pride of fame or family or wealth or personal appearance; no

longer having any wish to subdue the proud, or to bend others down and

so get thanks from men, it were better, then, to give to the strong and

warlike martial arms to wear, for them to follow war and by their power

to get supremacy; but when by one's own power a kingdom falls to hand,

who would not then accept the reins of empire? The wise man knows the

time to take religion, wealth, and worldly pleasure. But if he obtains

not the threefold profit, then in the end he abates his earnest efforts,

and reverencing religion, he lets go material wealth. Wealth is the one

desire of worldly men; to be rich and lose all desire for religion, this

is to gain but outside wealth. But to be poor and even thus despise

religion, what pleasure can indulgence give in such a case! But when

possessed of all the three, and when enjoyed with reason and propriety,

then religion, wealth, and pleasure make what is rightly called a great

master; permit not, then, your perfectly endowed body to lay aside its

glory, without reward; the Kakravartin, as a monarch, ruled the four

empires of the world, and shared with Sakra his royal throne, but was

unequal to the task of ruling heaven. But you, with your redoubtable

strength, may well grasp both heavenly and human power; I do not rely

upon my kingly power, in my desire to keep you here by force, but seeing

you change your comeliness of person, and wearing the hermit's garb,

whilst it makes me reverence you for your virtue, moves me with pity and

regret for you as a man; you now go begging your food, and I offer you

the whole land as yours; whilst you are young and lusty enjoy yourself.

During middle life acquire wealth, and when old and all your abilities

ripened, then is the time for following the rules of religion; when

young to encourage religious fervor, is to destroy the sources of

desire; but when old and the breath is less eager, then is the time to

seek religious solitude; when old we should avoid, as a shame, desire of

wealth, but get honor in the world by a religious life; but when young,

and the heart light and elastic, then is the time to partake of

pleasure, in boon companionship to indulge in gayety, and partake to the

full of mutual intercourse; but as years creep on, giving up indulgence,

to observe the ordinances of religion, to mortify the five desires, and

go on increasing a joyful and religious heart, is not this the law of

the eminent kings of old, who as a great company paid worship to heaven,

and borne on the dragon's back received the joys of celestial abodes?

All these divine and victorious monarchs, glorious in person, richly

adorned, thus having as a company performed their religious offering, in

the end received the reward of their conduct in heaven." Thus Bimbasâra

Râga used every kind of winning expedient in argument The royal prince,

unmoved and fixed, remained firm as Mount Sumeru.

The Reply to Bimbasâra Râga

And now in the household of Suddhodana râga, because of the birth of the