The king when first he saw his wondrous spiritual power of miracle

rejoiced in heart; but now his feelings deeply affected by the joy of

hearing truth, he became a perfect vessel for receiving true religion,

and with clasped hands he breathed forth his praise: "Wonderful indeed!

the fruit of your resolve completed thus! Wonderful indeed! the

overwhelming sorrow passed away! Wonderful indeed, this gain to me! At

first my sorrowing heart was heavy, but now my sorrow has brought forth

only profit! Wonderful indeed! for now, to-day, I reap the full fruit of

a begotten son. It was right he should reject the choice pleasures of a

monarch, it was right he should so earnestly and with diligence practise

penance; it was right he should cast off his family and kin; it was

right he should cut off every feeling of love and affection. The old

Rishi kings boasting of their penance gained no merit; but you, living

in a peaceful, quiet place, have done all and completed all; yourself at

rest now you give rest to others, moved by your mighty sympathy for all

that lives! If you had kept your first estate with men, and as a

Kakravartin monarch ruled the world, possessing then no self-depending

power of miracle, how could my soul have then received deliverance? Then

there would have been no excellent law declared, causing me such joy

to-day; no! had you been a universal sovereign, the bonds of birth and

death would still have been unsevered, but now you have escaped from

birth and death; the great pain of transmigration overcome, you are

able, for the sake of every creature, widely to preach the law of life

immortal, and to exhibit thus your power miraculous, and show the deep

and wide power of wisdom; the grief of birth and death eternally

destroyed, you now have risen far above both gods and men. You might

have kept the holy state of a Kakravartin monarch; but no such good as

this would have resulted." Thus his words of praise concluded, filled

with increased reverence and religious love, he who occupied the honored

place of a royal father, bowed down respectfully and did obeisance. Then

all the people of the kingdom, beholding Buddha's miraculous power, and

having heard the deep and excellent law, seeing, moreover, the king's

grave reverence, with clasped hands bowed down and worshipped. Possessed

with deep portentous thoughts, satiated with sorrows attached to

lay-life, they all conceived a wish to leave their homes. The princes,

too, of the Sâkya tribe, their minds enlightened to perceive the perfect

fruit of righteousness, entirely satiated with the glittering joys of

the world, forsaking home, rejoiced to join his company. Ânanda, Nanda,

Kin-pi, Anuruddha, Nandupananda, with Kundadana, all these principal

nobles and others of the Sâkya family, from the teaching of Buddha

became disciples and accepted the law. The sons of the great minister of

state, Udâyin being the chief, with all the royal princes following in

order became recluses. Moreover, the son of Atalî, whose name was Upâli,

seeing all these princes and the sons of the chief minister becoming

hermits, his mind opening for conversion, he, too, received the law of

renunciation. The royal father seeing his son possessing the great

qualities of Riddhi, himself entered on the calm flowings of thought,

the gate of the true law of eternal life. Leaving his kingly estate and

country, lost in meditation, he drank sweet dew. Practising his

religious duties in solitude, silent and contemplative he dwelt in his

palace, a royal Rishi. Tathâgata following a peaceable life, recognized

fully by his tribe, repeating the joyful news of religion, gladdened the

hearts of all his kinsmen hearing him. And now, it being the right time

for begging food, he entered the Kapila country; in the city all the

lords and ladies, in admiration, raised this chant of praise:

"Siddhârtha! fully enlightened! has come back again!" The news flying

quickly in and out of doors, the great and small came forth to see him;

every door and every window crowded, climbing on shoulders, bending down

the eyes, they gazed upon the marks of beauty on his person, shining and

glorious! Wearing his Kashâya garment outside, the glory of his person

from within shone forth, like the sun's perfect wheel; within, without,

he seemed one mass of splendor. Those who beheld were filled with

sympathizing joy; their hands conjoined, they wept for gladness; and so

they watched him as he paced with dignity the road, his form collected,

all his organs well-controlled! His lovely body exhibiting the

perfection of religious beauty, his dignified compassion adding to their

regretful joy; his shaven head, his personal beauty sacrificed! his body

clad in dark and sombre vestment, his manner natural and plain, his

unadorned appearance; his circumspection as he looked upon the earth in

walking! "He who ought to have had held over him the feather-shade,"

they said, "whose hands should grasp 'the reins of the flying dragon,'

see how he walks in daylight on the dusty road! holding his alms-dish,

going to beg! Gifted enough to tread down every enemy, lovely enough to

gladden woman's heart, with glittering vesture and with godlike crown

reverenced he might have been by servile crowds! But now, his manly

beauty hidden, with heart restrained, and outward form subdued,

rejecting the much-coveted and glorious apparel, his shining body clad

with garments gray, what aim, what object, now! Hating the five delights

that move the world, forsaking virtuous wife and tender child, loving

the solitude, he wanders friendless; hard, indeed, for virtuous wife

through the long night, cherishing her grief; and now to hear he is a

hermit! She inquires not now of the royal Suddhodana if he has seen his

son or not! But as she views his beauteous person, to think his altered

form is now a hermit's! hating his home, still full of love; his father,

too, what rest for him! And then his loving child Râhula, weeping with

constant sorrowful desire! And now to see no change, or heart-relenting;

and this the end of such enlightenment! All these attractive marks, the

proofs of a religious calling, whereas, when born, all said, these are

marks of a 'great man,' who ought to receive tribute from the four seas!

And now to see what he has come to! all these predictive words vain and

illusive."

Thus they talked together, the gossiping multitude, with confused

accents. Tathâgata, his heart unaffected, felt no joy and no regret. But

he was moved by equal love to all the world, his one desire that men

should escape the grief of lust; to cause the root of virtue to

increase, and for the sake of coming ages, to leave the marks of

self-denial behind him, to dissipate the clouds and mists of sensual

desire.

He entered, thus intentioned, on the town to beg. He accepted food both

good or bad, whatever came, from rich or poor, without distinction;

having filled his alms-dish, he then returned back to the solitude.

Receiving the Getavana Vihâra

The lord of the world, having converted the people of Kapilavastu

according to their several circumstances, his work being done, he went

with the great body of his followers, and directed his way to the

country of Kosala, where dwelt King Prasenagit. The Getavana was now

fully adorned, and its halls and courts carefully prepared. The

fountains and streams flowed through the garden which glittered with

flowers and fruit; rare birds sat by the pools, and on the land they

sang in sweet concord, according to their kind.

Beautiful in every way as the palace of Mount Kilas, such was the

Getavana. Then the noble friend of the orphans, surrounded by his

attendants, who met him on the way, scattering flowers and burning

incense, invited the lord to enter the Getavana. In his hand he carried

a golden dragon-pitcher, and bending low upon his knees he poured the

flowing water as a sign of the gift of the Getavana Vihâra for the use

of the priesthood throughout the world. The lord then received it, with

the prayer that "overruling all evil influences it might give the

kingdom permanent rest, and that the happiness of Anâthapindada might

flow out in countless streams." Then the king Prasenagit, hearing that

the lord had come, with his royal equipage went to the Getavana to

worship at the lord's feet. Having arrived and taken a seat on one side,

with clasped hands he spake to Buddha thus:--

"O that my unworthy and obscure kingdom should thus suddenly have met

such fortune! For how can misfortunes or frequent calamities possibly

affect it, in the presence of so great a man? And now that I have seen

your sacred features, I may perhaps partake of the converting streams of

your teaching. A town although it is composed of many sections, yet both

ignoble and holy persons may enter the surpassing stream; and so the

wind which fans the perfumed grove causes the scents to unite and form

one pleasant breeze; and as the birds which collect on Mount Sumeru are

many, and the various shades that blend in shining gold, so an assembly

may consist of persons of different capacities: individually

insignificant, but a glorious body. The desert master by nourishing the

Rishi, procured a birth as the three leg, or foot star; worldly profit

is fleeting and perishable, religious profit is eternal and

inexhaustible; a man though a king is full of trouble, a common man, who

is holy, has everlasting rest."

Buddha knowing the state of the king's heart--that he rejoiced in

religion as Sakrarâga--considered the two obstacles that weighted

him--viz., too great love of money and of external pleasures, then

seizing the opportunity, and knowing the tendencies of his heart, he

began, for the king's sake, to preach: "Even those who, by evil karma,

have been born in low degree, when they see a person of virtuous

character, feel reverence for him; how much rather ought an independent

king, who by his previous conditions of life has acquired much merit,

when he encounters Buddha, to conceive even more reverence. Nor is it

difficult to understand, that a country should enjoy more rest and

peace, by the presence of Buddha, than if he were not to dwell therein.

And now, as I briefly declare my law, let the Mahârâga listen and weigh

my words, and hold fast that which I deliver! See now the end of my

perfected merit, my life is done, there is for me no further body or

spirit, but freedom from all ties of kith or kin! The good or evil deeds

we do from first to last follow us as shadows; most exalted then the

deeds of the king of the law. The prince who cherishes his people, in

the present life gains renown, and hereafter ascends to heaven; but by

disobedience and neglect of duty, present distress is felt and future

misery! As in old times Lui-'ma râga, by obeying the precepts, was born

in heaven, whilst Kin-pu râga, doing wickedly, at the end of life was

born in misery. Now then, for the sake of the great king, I will briefly

relate the good and evil law. The great requirement is a loving heart!

to regard the people as we do an only son, not to oppress, not to

destroy; to keep in due check every member of the body, to forsake

unrighteous doctrine and walk in the straight path; not to exalt one's

self by treading down others, but to comfort and befriend those in

suffering; not to exercise one's self in false theories, nor to ponder

much on kingly dignity, nor to listen to the smooth words of false

teachers. Not to vex one's self by austerities, not to exceed or

transgress the right rules of kingly conduct, but to meditate on Buddha

and weigh his righteous law, and to put down and adjust all that is

contrary to religion; to exhibit true superiority by virtuous conduct

and the highest exercise of reason, to meditate deeply on the vanity of

earthly things, to realize the fickleness of life by constant

recollection; to exalt the mind to the highest point of reflection, to

seek sincere faith (truth) with firm purpose; to retain an inward sense

of happiness resulting from one's self, and to look forward to increased

happiness hereafter; to lay up a good name for distant ages, this will

secure the favor of Tathâgata, as men now loving sweet fruit will

hereafter be praised by their descendants. There is a way of darkness

out of light, there is a way of light out of darkness; there is darkness

which follows after the gloom, there is a light which causes the

brightening of light. The wise man, leaving first principles, should go

on to get more light; evil words will be repeated far and wide by the

multitude, but there are few to follow good direction: It is impossible,

however, to avoid result of works, the doer cannot escape; if there had

been no first works, there had been in the end no result of doing--no

reward for good, no hereafter joy; but because works are done, there is

no escape. Let us then practise good works; let us inspect our thoughts

that we do no evil, because as we sow so we reap. As when enclosed in a

four-stone mountain, there is no escape or place of refuge for anyone,

so within this mountain-wall of old age, birth, disease, and death,

there is no escape for the world. Only by considering and practising the

true law can we escape from this sorrow-piled mountain. There is,

indeed, no constancy in the world, the end of the pleasures of sense is

as the lightning flash, whilst old age and death are as the piercing

bolts; what profit, then, in doing iniquity! All the ancient conquering

kings, who were as gods on earth, thought by their strength to overcome

decay; but after a brief life they too disappeared. The Kalpa-fire will

melt Mount Sumeru, the water of the ocean will be dried up, how much

less can our human frame, which is as a bubble, expect to endure for

long upon the earth! The fierce wind scatters the thick mists, the sun's

rays encircle Mount Sumeru, the fierce fire licks up the place of

moisture, so things are ever born once more to be destroyed! The body is

a thing of unreality, kept through the suffering of the long night

pampered by wealth, living idly and in carelessness, death suddenly

comes and it is carried away as rotten wood in the stream! The wise man,

expecting these changes, with diligence strives against sloth; the dread

of birth and death acts as a spur to keep him from lagging on the road;

he frees himself from engagements, he is not occupied with

self-pleasing, he is not entangled by any of the cares of life, he holds

to no business, seeks no friendships, engages in no learned career, nor

yet wholly separates himself from it; for his learning is the wisdom of

not-perceiving wisdom, but yet perceiving that which tells him of his

own impermanence; having a body, yet keeping aloof from defilement, he

learns to regard defilement as the greatest evil. He knows that, though

born in the Arûpa world, there is yet no escape from the changes of

time; his learning, then, is to acquire the changeless body; for where

no change is, there is peace. Thus the possession of this changeful body

is the foundation of all sorrow. Therefore, again, all who are wise make

this their aim--to seek a bodiless condition; all the various orders of

sentient creatures, from the indulgence of lust, derive pain; therefore

all those in this condition ought to conceive a heart, loathing lust;

putting away and loathing this condition, then they shall receive no

more pain; though born in a state with or without an external form, the

certainty of future change is the root of sorrow; for so long as there

is no perfect cessation of personal being, there can be, certainly, no

absence of personal desire; beholding, in this way, the character of the

three worlds, their inconstancy and unreality, the presence of

ever-consuming pain, how can the wise man seek enjoyment therein? When a

tree is burning with fierce flames how can the birds congregate therein?

The wise man, who is regarded as an enlightened sage, without this

knowledge is ignorant; having this knowledge, then true wisdom dawns;

without it, there is no enlightenment. To get this wisdom is the one

aim, to neglect it is the mistake of life. All the teaching of the

schools should be centred here; without it is no true reason. To recount

this excellent system is not for those who dwell in family connection;

nor is it, on that account, not to be said, for religion concerns a man

individually. Burned up with sorrow, by entering the cool stream, all

may obtain relief and ease; the light of a lamp in a dark coom lights up

equally objects of all colors, so is it with those who devote themselves

to religion--there is no distinction between the professed disciple and

the unlearned. Sometimes the mountain-dweller falls into ruin, sometimes

the humble householder mounts up to be a Rishi; the want of faith is the

engulfing sea, the presence of disorderly belief is the rolling flood.

The tide of lust carries away the world; involved in its eddies there is

no escape; wisdom is the handy boat, reflection is the hold-fast. The

drum-call of religion, the barrier of thought, these alone can rescue

from the sea of ignorance."

At this time the king, sincerely attentive to the words of the All-wise,

conceived a distaste for the world's glitter and was dissatisfied with

the pleasures of royalty, even as one avoids a drunken elephant, or

returns to right reason after a debauch. Then all the heretical

teachers, seeing that the king was well affected to Buddha, besought the

king, with one voice, to call on Buddha to exhibit his miraculous gifts.

Then the king addressed the lord of the world: "I pray you, grant their

request!" Then Buddha silently acquiesced. And now all the different

professors of religion, the doctors who boasted of their spiritual

power, came together in a body to where Buddha was; then he manifested

before them his power of miracle: ascending up into the air, he remained

seated, diffusing his glory as the light of the sun he shed abroad the

brightness of his presence. The heretical teachers were all abashed, the

people all were filled with faith. Then for the sake of preaching to his

mother, he forthwith ascended to the heaven of the thirty-three gods,

and for three months dwelt in heavenly mansions. There he converted the

occupants of that abode, and having concluded his pious mission to his

mother, the time of his sojourn in heaven finished, he forthwith

returned, the angels accompanying him on wing; he travelled down a

seven-gemmed ladder, and again arrived at Gambudvîpa. Stepping down he

alighted on the spot where all the Buddhas return, countless hosts of

angels accompanied him, conveying with them their palace abodes as a

gift.

The people of Gambudvipa, with closed hands, looking up with reverence,

beheld him.

Escaping the Drunken Elephant and Devadatta

Having instructed his mother in heaven with all the angel host, and once

more returned to men, he went about converting those capable of it.

Gutika, Gîvaka, Sula, and Kûrna, the noble's son Anga and the son of the

fearless king Abhaya Nyagrodha and the rest; Srîkutaka, Upâli the

Nirgrantha; all these were thoroughly converted. So also the king of

Gandhâra, whose name was Fo-kia-lo; he, having heard the profound and

excellent law, left his country and became a recluse. So also the demons

Himapati and Vâtagiri, on the mountain Vibhâra, were subdued and

converted. The Brahmakârin Prayantika, on the mountain Vagana, by the

subtle meaning of half a gâtha, he convinced and caused to rejoice in

faith; the village of Dânamati had one Kûtadanta, the head of the

twice-born Brahmans; at this time he was sacrificing countless victims;

Tathâgata by means converted him, and caused him to enter the true path.

On Mount Bhatika a heavenly being of eminent distinction, whose name was

Pañkasikha, receiving the law, attained Dhyâna; in the village of

Vainushta, he converted the mother of the celebrated Nanda. In the town

of Añkavari, he subdued the powerful mahâbâla spirit; Bhanabhadra,

Sronadanta, the malevolent and powerful Nâgas, the king of the country

and his harem, received together the true law, as he opened to them the

gate of immortality. In the celebrated Viggi village, Kina and Sila,

earnestly seeking to be born in heaven, he converted and made to enter

the right path. The Angulimâla, in that village of Sumu, through the

exhibition of his divine power, he converted and subdued; there was that

noble's son, Purigîvana, rich in wealth and stores as Punavatî, directly

he was brought to Buddha, accepting the doctrine, he became vastly

liberal. So in that village of Padatti he converted the celebrated

Patali, and also Patala, brothers, and both demons. In Bhidhavali there

were two Brahmans, one called Great-age, the other Brahma-age. These by

the power of a discourse he subdued, and caused them to attain knowledge

of the true law; when he came to Vaisâlî, he converted all the Raksha

demons, and the lion of the Likkhavis, and all the Likkhavis, Saka the

Nirgrantha, all these he caused to attain the true law. Hama kinkhava

had a demon Potala, and another Potalaka, these he converted. Again he

came to Mount Ala, to convert the demon Alava, and a second called

Kumâra, and a third Asidaka; then going back to Mount Gaga he converted

the demon Kañgana, and Kamo the Yaksha, with the sister and son. Then

coming to Benares, he converted the celebrated Katyâyana; then

afterwards going, by his miraculous power, to Sruvala, he converted the

merchants Davakin and Nikin, and received their sandalwood hall,

exhaling its fragrant odors till now. Going then to Mahîvatî, he

converted the Rishi Kapila, and the Muni remained with him; his foot

stepping on the stone, the thousand-spoked twin-wheels appeared, which

never could be erased.

Then he came to the place Po-lo-na, where he converted the demon

Po-lo-na; coming to the country of Mathurâ, he converted the demon

Godama. In the Thurakusati he also converted Pindapâla; coming to the

village of Vairañga, he converted the Brahman; in the village of

Kalamasa, he converted Savasasin, and also that celebrated Agirivasa.

Once more returning to the Srâvastî country, he converted the Gautamas

Gâtisruna and Dakâtili; returning to the Kosala country, he converted

the leaders of the heretics Vakrapali and all the Brahmakârins. Coming

to Satavaka, in the forest retreat, he converted the heretical Rishis,

and constrained them to enter the path of the Buddha Rishi. Coming to

the country of Ayodhyâ, he converted the demon Nâgas; coming to the

country of Kimbila, he converted the two Nâgarâgas; one called Kimbila,

the other called Kâlaka. Again coming to the Vaggi country, he converted

the Yaksha demon, whose name was Pisha, the father and mother of Nâgara,

and the great noble also, he caused to believe gladly in the true law.

Coming to the Kausârubî country, he converted Goshira, and the two

Upasikâs, Vaguttarâ and her companion Uvari; and besides these, many

others, one after the other. Coming to the country of Gandhâra he

converted the Nâga Apalâla; thus in due order all these air-going,

water-loving natures he completely converted and saved, as the sun when

he shines upon some dark and sombre cave. At this time Devadatta, seeing

the remarkable excellences of Buddha, conceived in his heart a jealous

hatred; losing all power of thoughtful abstraction he ever plotted

wicked schemes, to put a stop to the spread of the true law; ascending

the Gridhrakûta mount he rolled down a stone to hit Buddha; the stone

divided into two parts, each part passing on either side of him. Again,

on the royal highway he loosed a drunken, vicious elephant. With his

raised trunk trumpeting as thunder he ran, his maddened breath raising a

cloud around him, his wild pace like the rushing wind, to be avoided

more than the fierce tempest; his trunk and tusks and tail and feet,

when touched only, brought instant death. Thus he ran through the

streets and ways of Râgagriha, madly wounding and killing men; their

corpses lay across the road, their brains and blood scattered afar. Then

all the men and women filled with fear, remained indoors; throughout the

city there was universal terror, only piteous shrieks and cries were

heard; beyond the city men were running fast, hiding themselves in holes

and dens. Tathâgata, with five hundred followers, at this time came

towards the city; from tops of gates and every window, men, fearing for

Buddha, begged him not to advance; Tathâgata, his heart composed and

quiet, with perfect self-possession, thinking only on the sorrow caused

by hate, his loving heart desiring to appease it, followed by guardian

angel-nâgas, slowly approached the maddened elephant. The Bhikshus all

deserted him, Ânanda only remained by his side; joined by every tie of

duty, his steadfast nature did not shake or quail. The drunken elephant,

savage and spiteful, beholding Buddha, came to himself at once, and

bending, worshipped at his feet just as a mighty mountain falls to

earth. With lotus hand the master pats his head, even as the moon lights

up a flying cloud. And now, as he lay crouched before the master's feet,

on his account he speaks some sacred words: "The elephant cannot hurt

the mighty dragon, hard it is to fight with such a one; the elephant

desiring so to do will in the end obtain no happy state of birth;

deceived by lust, anger, and delusion, which are hard to conquer, but

which Buddha has conquered. Now, then, this very day, give up this lust,

this anger and delusion! You! swallowed up in sorrow's mud! if not now

given up, they will increase yet more and grow."

The elephant, hearing Buddha's words, escaped from drunkenness, rejoiced

in heart; his mind and body both found rest, as one athirst finds joy

who drinks of heavenly dew. The elephant being thus converted, the

people around were filled with joy; they all raised a cry of wonder at

the miracle, and brought their offerings of every kind. The

scarcely-good arrived at middle-virtue, the middling-good passed to a

higher grade, the unbelieving now became believers, those who believed

were strengthened in their faith. Agâtasatru, mighty king, seeing how

Buddha conquered the drunken elephant, was moved at heart by thoughts

profound; then, filled with joy, he found a twofold growth of piety.

Tathâgata, by exercise of virtue, exhibited all kinds of spiritual

powers; thus he subdued and harmonized the minds of all, and caused them

in due order to attain religious truth, and through the kingdom virtuous

seeds were sown, as at the first when men began to live. But Devadatta,

mad with rage, because he was ensnared by his own wickedness, at first

by power miraculous able to fly, now fallen, dwells in lowest hell.

The Lady Âmra Sees Buddha

The lord of the world having finished his wide work of conversion

conceived in himself a desire for Nirvana. Accordingly proceeding from

the city of Râgagriha, he went on towards the town of Pâtaliputra.

Having arrived there, he dwelt in the famous Pâtali ketiya. Now this

town of Pâtaliputra is the frontier town of Magadha, defending the

outskirts of the country. Ruling the country was a Brahman of wide

renown and great learning in the scriptures; and there was also an

overseer of the country, to take the omens of the land with respect to

rest or calamity. At this time the king of Magadha sent to that officer

of inspection a messenger, to warn and command him to raise

fortifications in the neighborhood of the town for its security and

protection. And now the lord of the world, as they were raising the

fortifications, predicted that in consequence of the Devas and spirits

who protected and kept the land, the place should continue strong and

free from calamity or destruction. On this the heart of the overseer

greatly rejoiced, and he made religious offerings to Buddha, the law,

and the church. Buddha now leaving the city gate went on towards the

river Ganges. The overseer, from his deep reverence for Buddha, named

the gate through which the lord had passed the "Gautama gate." Meanwhile

the people all by the side of the river Ganges went forth to pay

reverence to the lord of the world. They prepared for him every kind of

religious offering, and each one with his gaudy boat invited him to

cross over. The lord of the world, considering the number of the boats,

feared lest by an appearance of partiality in accepting one, he might

hurt the minds of all the rest. Therefore in a moment, by his spiritual

power, he transported himself and the great congregation across the

river, leaving this shore he passed at once to that, signifying thereby

the passage in the boat of wisdom from this world to Nirvâna: a boat

large enough to transport all that lives to save the world, even as

without a boat he crossed without hindrance the river Ganges. Then all

the people on the bank of the river, with one voice, raised a rapturous

shout, and all declared this ford should be called the Gautama ford. As

the city gate is called the Gautama gate, so this Gautama ford is so

known through ages; and shall be so called through generations to come.

Then Tathâgata, going forward still, came to that celebrated Kuli

village, where he preached and converted many; again he went on to the

Nâdi village, where many deaths had occurred among the people. The

friends of the dead then came to the lord and asked, "Where have our

friends and relatives deceased, now gone to be born, after this life

ended?" Buddha, knowing well the sequence of deeds, answered each

according to his several needs. Then going forward to Vaisâlî, he

located himself in the Âmrâ grove. The celebrated Lady Âmrâ, well

affected to Buddha, went to that garden followed by her waiting women,

whilst the children from the schools paid her respect. Thus with

circumspection and self-restraint, her person lightly and plainly

clothed, putting away all her ornamented robes and all adornments of

scent and flowers, as a prudent and virtuous woman goes forth to perform

her religious duties, so she went on, beautiful to look upon, like any

Devî in appearance. Buddha seeing the lady in the distance approaching,

spake thus to all the Bhikshus:--

"This woman is indeed exceedingly beautiful, able to fascinate the minds

of the religious; now then, keep your recollection straight! let wisdom

keep your mind in subjection! Better fall into the fierce tiger's mouth,

or under the sharp knife of the executioner, than to dwell with a woman

and excite in yourselves lustful thoughts. A woman is anxious to exhibit

her form and shape, whether walking, standing, sitting, or sleeping.

Even when represented as a picture, she desires most of all to set off

the blandishments of her beauty, and thus to rob men of their steadfast

heart! How then ought you to guard yourselves? By regarding her tears

and her smiles as enemies, her stooping form, her hanging arms, and all

her disentangled hair as toils designed to entrap man's heart. Then how

much more should you suspect her studied, amorous beauty; when she

displays her dainty outline, her richly ornamented form, and chatters

gayly with the foolish man! Ah, then! what perturbation and what evil

thoughts, not seeing underneath the horrid, tainted shape, the sorrows

of impermanence, the impurity, the unreality! Considering these as the

reality, all lustful thoughts die out; rightly considering these, within

their several limits, not even an Apsaras would give you joy. But yet

the power of lust is great with men, and is to be feared withal; take

then the bow of earnest perseverance, and the sharp arrow points of

wisdom, cover your head with the helmet of right-thought, and fight with

fixed resolve against the five desires. Better far with red-hot iron

pins bore out both your eyes, than encourage in yourselves lustful

thoughts, or look upon a woman's form with such desires. Lust beclouding

a man's heart, confused with woman's beauty, the mind is dazed, and at

the end of life that man must fall into an 'evil way.' Fear then the

sorrow of that 'evil way!' and harbor not the deceits of women. The

senses not confined within due limits, and the objects of sense not

limited as they ought to be, lustful and covetous thoughts grow up

between the two, because the senses and their objects are unequally

yoked. Just as when two ploughing oxen are yoked together to one halter

and cross-bar, but not together pulling as they go, so is it when the

senses and their objects are unequally matched. Therefore, I say,

restrain the heart, give it no unbridled license."

Thus Buddha, for the Bhikshus' sake, explained the law in various ways.

And now that Âmrâ lady gradually approached the presence of the lord;

seeing Buddha seated beneath a tree, lost in thought and wholly absorbed

by it, she recollected that he had a great compassionate heart, and

therefore she believed he would in pity receive her garden grove. With

steadfast heart and joyful mien and rightly governed feelings, her

outward form restrained, her heart composed, bowing her head at Buddha's

feet, she took her place as the lord bade her, whilst he in sequence

right declared the law:--

"Your heart, O lady! seems composed and quieted, your form without

external ornaments; young in years and rich, you seem well-talented as

you are beautiful. That one, so gifted, should by faith be able to

receive the law of righteousness is, indeed, a rare thing in the world!

The wisdom of a master derived from former births, enables him to accept

the law with joy: this is not rare; but that a woman, weak of will,

scant in wisdom, deeply immersed in love, should yet be able to delight

in piety, this, indeed, is very rare. A man born in the world, by proper

thought comes to delight in goodness, he recognizes the impermanence of

wealth and beauty, and looks upon religion as his best ornament. He

feels that this alone can remedy the ills of life and change the fate of

young and old; the evil destiny that cramps another's life cannot affect

him, living righteously; always removing that which excites desire, he

is strong in the absence of desire; seeking to find, not what vain

thoughts suggest, but that to which religion points him. Relying on

external help, he has sorrow; self-reliant, there is strength and joy.

But in the case of woman, from another comes the labor, and the nurture

of another's child. Thus then should everyone consider well, and loathe

and put away the form of woman."

Âmrâ, the lady, hearing the law, rejoiced. Her wisdom strengthened, and

still more enlightened, she was enabled to cast off desire, and of

herself dissatisfied with woman's form, was freed from all polluting

thoughts. Though still constrained to woman's form, filled with

religious joy, she bowed at Buddha's feet and spoke: "Oh! may the lord,

in deep compassion, receive from me, though ignorant, this offering, and

so fulfil my earnest vow." Then Buddha knowing her sincerity, and for

the good of all that lives, silently accepted her request, and caused in

her full joy, in consequence; whilst all her friends attentive, grew in

knowledge, and, after adoration, went back home.

CHAPTER V

By Spiritual Power Fixing His Term of Years

At this time the great men among the Likkhavis, hearing that the lord of

the world had entered their country and was located in the Âmrâ garden,

went thither riding in their gaudy chariots with silken canopies, and

clothed in gorgeous robes, both blue and red and yellow and white, each

one with his own cognizance. Accompanied by their body guard surrounding

them, they went; others prepared the road in front; and with their

heavenly crowns and flower-bespangled robes they rode, richly dight with

every kind of costly ornament. Their noble forms resplendent increased

the glory of that garden grove; now taking off the five distinctive

ornaments, alighting from their chariots, they advanced afoot. Slowly

thus, with bated breath, their bodies reverent they advanced. Then they

bowed down and worshipped Buddha's foot, and, a great multitude, they

gathered round the lord, shining as the sun's disc, full of radiance.

There was the lion Likkhavi, among the Likkhavis the senior, his noble

form bold as the lion's, standing there with lion eyes, but without the

lion's pride, taught by the Sâkya lion, who thus began: "Great and

illustrious personages, famed as a tribe for grace and comeliness! put

aside, I pray, the world's high thoughts, and now accept the abounding

lustre of religious teaching. Wealth and beauty, scented flowers and

ornaments like these, are not to be compared for grace with moral

rectitude! Your land productive and in peaceful quiet--this is your

great renown; but true gracefulness of body and a happy people depend

upon the heart well-governed. Add but to this a reverent feeling for

religion, then a people's fame is at its height! a fertile land and all

the dwellers in it, as a united body, virtuous! To-day then learn this

virtue, cherish with carefulness the people, lead them as a body in the

right way of rectitude, even as the ox-king leads the way across the

river-ford. If a man with earnest recollection ponder on things of this

world and the next, he will consider how by right behavior right morals

he prepares, as the result of merit, rest in either world. For all in

this world will exceedingly revere him, his fame will spread abroad

through every part, the virtuous will rejoice to call him friend, and

the outflowings of his goodness will know no bounds forever. The

precious gems found in the desert wilds are all from earth engendered;

moral conduct, likewise, as the earth, is the great source of all that

is good. By this, without the use of wings, we fly through space, we

cross the river needing not a handy boat; but without this a man will

find it hard indeed to cross the stream of sorrow or stay the rush of

sorrow. As when a tree with lovely flowers and fruit, pierced by some

sharp instrument, is hard to climb, so is it with the much-renowned for

strength and beauty, who break through the laws of moral rectitude!

Sitting upright in the royal palace, the heart of the king was grave and

majestic; with a view to gain the merit of a pure and moral life, he

became a convert of a great Rishi. With garments dyed and clad with

hair, shaved, save one spiral knot, he led a hermit's life, but, as he

did not rule himself with strict morality, he was immersed in suffering

and sorrow. Each morn and eve he used the three ablutions, sacrificed to

fire and practised strict austerity, let his body be in filth as the

brute beast, passed through fire and water, dwelt amidst the craggy

rocks, inhaled the wind, drank from the Ganges' stream, controlled

himself with bitter fasts--but all! far short of moral rectitude. For

though a man inure himself to live as any brute, he is not on that

account a vessel of the righteous law; whilst he who breaks the laws of

right behavior invites detraction, and is one no virtuous man can love;

his heart is ever filled with boding fear, his evil name pursues him as

a shadow. Having neither profit nor advantage in this world, how can he

in the next world reap content? Therefore the wise man ought to practise

pure behavior; passing through the wilderness of birth and death, pure

conduct is to him a virtuous guide. From pure behavior comes self-power,

which frees a man from many dangers; pure conduct, like a ladder,

enables us to climb to heaven. Those who found themselves on right

behavior, cut off the source of pain and grief; but they who by

transgression destroy this mind, may mourn the loss of every virtuous

principle. To gain this end first banish every ground of 'self'; this

thought of 'self' shades every lofty aim, even as the ashes that conceal

the fire, treading on which the foot is burned. Pride and indifference

shroud this heart, too, as the sun is obscured by the piled-up clouds;

supercilious thoughts root out all modesty of mind, and sorrow saps the

strongest will. As age and disease waste youthful beauty, so pride of

self destroys all virtue; the Devas and Asuras, thus from jealousy and

envy, raised mutual strife. The loss of virtue and of merit which we

mourn, proceeds from 'pride of self' throughout; and as I am a conqueror

amid conquerors, so he who conquers self is one with me. He who little

cares to conquer self, is but a foolish master; beauty, or earthly

things, family renown and such things, all are utterly inconstant, and

what is changeable can give no rest of interval. If in the end the law

of entire destruction is exacted, what use is there in indolence and

pride? Covetous desire is the greatest source of sorrow, appearing as a

friend in secret 'tis our enemy. As a fierce fire excited from within a

house, so is the fire of covetous desire: the burning flame of covetous

desire is fiercer far than fire which burns the world. For fire may be

put out by water in excess, but what can overpower the fire of lust? The

fire which fiercely burns the desert grass dies out, and then the grass

will grow again; but when the fire of lust burns up the heart, then how

hard for true religion there to dwell! for lust seeks worldly pleasures,

these pleasures add to an impure karman; by this evil karman a man falls

into perdition, and so there is no greater enemy to man than lust.

Lusting, man gives way to amorous indulgence, by this he is led to

practise every kind of lustful longing; indulging thus, he gathers

frequent sorrow. No greater evil is there than lust. Lust is a dire

disease, and the foolish master stops the medicine of wisdom. The study

of heretical books not leading to right thought, causes the lustful

heart to increase and grow, for these books are not correct on the

points of impermanency, the non-existence of self, and any object ground

for 'self.' But a true and right apprehension through the power of

wisdom, is effectual to destroy that false desire, and therefore our

object should be to practise this true apprehension. Right apprehension

once produced then there is deliverance from covetous desire, for a

false estimate of excellency produces a covetous desire to excel, whilst

a false view of demerit produces anger and regret; but the idea of

excelling and also of inferiority (in the sense of demerit) both

destroyed, the desire to excel and also anger (on account of

inferiority) are destroyed. Anger! how it changes the comely face, how

it destroys the loveliness of beauty! Anger dulls the brightness of the

eye, chokes all desire to hear the principles of truth, cuts and divides

the principle of family affection, impoverishes and weakens every

worldly aim. Therefore let anger be subdued, yield not to the angry

impulse; he who can hold his wild and angry heart is well entitled

'illustrious charioteer.' For men call such a one 'illustrious

team-breaker' who can with bands restrain the unbroken steed; so anger

not subdued, its fire unquenched, the sorrow of repentance burns like

fire. A man who allows wild passion to arise within, himself first burns

his heart, then after burning adds the wind thereto which ignites the

fire again, or not, as the case may be. The pain of birth, old age,

disease, and death, press heavily upon the world, but adding 'passion'

to the score, what is this but to increase our foes when pressed by

foes? But rather, seeing how the world is pressed by throngs of grief,

we ought to encourage in us love, and as the world produces grief on

grief, so should we add as antidotes unnumbered remedies." Tathâgata,

illustrious in expedients, according to the disease, thus briefly spoke;

even as a good physician in the world, according to the disease,

prescribes his medicine. And now the Likkhavis, hearing the sermon

preached by Buddha, arose forthwith and bowed at Buddha's feet, and

joyfully they placed them on their heads. Then they asked both Buddha

and the congregation on the morrow to accept their poor religious

offerings. But Buddha told them that already Âmrâ had invited him. On

this the Likkhavis, harboring thoughts of pride and disappointment,

said: "Why should that one take away our profit?" But, knowing Buddha's

heart to be impartial and fair, they once again regained their

cheerfulness. Tathâgata, moreover, nobly seizing the occasion, appeasing

them, produced within a joyful heart; and so subdued, their grandeur of

appearance came again, as when a snake subdued by charms glistens with

shining skin. And now, the night being passed, the signs of dawn

appearing, Buddha and the great assembly go to the abode of Âmrâ, and

having received her entertainment, they went on to the village of

Pi-nau, and there he rested during the rainy season; the three months'

rest being ended, again he returned to Vaisâli, and dwelt beside the

Monkey Tank; sitting there in a shady grove, he shed a flood of glory

from his person; aroused thereby, Mâra Pisuna came to the place where

Buddha was, and with closed palms exhorted him thus: "Formerly, beside

the Nairañganâ river, when you had accomplished your true and steadfast

aim, you said, 'When I have done all I have to do, then will I pass at

once to Nirvâna'; and now you have done all you have to do, you should,

as then you said, pass to Nirvâna."

Then Buddha spake to Pisuna: "The time of my complete deliverance is at

hand, but let three months elapse, and I shall reach Nirvâna." Then

Mâra, knowing that Tathâgata had fixed the time for his emancipation,

his earnest wish being thus fulfilled, joyous returned to his abode in

heaven. Tathâgata, seated beneath a tree, straightway was lost in

ecstasy, and willingly rejected his allotted years, and by his spiritual

power fixed the remnant of his life. On this, Tathâgata thus giving up

his years, the great earth shook and quaked through all the limits of

the universe; great flames of fire were seen around, the tops of Sumeru

were shaken, from heaven there rained showers of flying stones, a

whirling tempest rose on every side, the trees were rooted up and fell,

heavenly music rose with plaintive notes, whilst angels for a time were

joyless. Buddha rising from out his ecstasy, announced to all the world:

"Now have I given up my term of years; I live henceforth by power of

faith; my body like a broken chariot stands, no further cause of

'coming' or of 'going'; completely freed from the three worlds, I go

enfranchised, as a chicken from its egg."

The Differences of the Likkhavis

The venerable Ânanda, seeing the earth shaking on every side, his heart

was tearful and his hair erect; he asked the cause thereof of Buddha.

Buddha replied: "Ânanda! I have fixed three months to end my life, the

rest of life I utterly give up; this is the reason why the earth is

greatly shaken."

Ânanda, hearing the instruction of Buddha, was moved with pity and the

tears flowed down his face, even as when an elephant of mighty strength

shakes the sandal-wood tree. Thus was Ânanda shaken and his mind

perturbed, whilst down his cheeks the tears, like drops of perfume,

flowed; so much he loved the lord his master, so full of kindness was

he, and, as yet, not freed from earthly thoughts. Thinking then on these

four things alone, he gave his grief full liberty, nor could he master

it, but said, "Now I hear the lord declare that he has fixed for good

his time to die, my body fails, my strength is gone, my mind is dazed,

my soul is all discordant, and all the words of truth forgotten; a wild

deserted waste seems heaven and earth. Have pity! save me, master!

perish not so soon! Perished with bitter cold, I chanced upon a

fire--forthwith it disappeared. Wandering amid the wilds of grief and

pain, deceived, confused, I lost my way--suddenly a wise and prudent

guide encountered me, but hardly saved from my bewilderment, he once

more vanished. Like some poor man treading through endless mud, weary

and parched with thirst, longs for the water, suddenly he lights upon a

cool refreshing lake, he hastens to it--lo! it dries before him. The

deep blue, bright, refulgent eye, piercing through all the worlds, with

wisdom brightens the dark gloom, the darkness for a moment is dispelled.

As when the blade shoots through the yielding earth, the clouds collect

and we await the welcome shower, then a fierce wind drives the big

clouds away, and so with disappointed hope we watch the dried-up field!

Deep darkness reigned for want of wisdom, the world of sentient

creatures groped for light, Tathâgata lit up the lamp of wisdom, then

suddenly extinguished it--ere he had brought it out."

Buddha, hearing Ânanda speaking thus, grieved at his words, and pitying

his distress, with soothing accents and with gentle presence spake with

purpose to declare the one true law:--

"If men but knew their own nature, they would not dwell in sorrow;

everything that lives, whate'er it be, all this is subject to

destruction's law; I have already told you plainly, the law of things

'joined' is to 'separate'; the principle of kindness and of love is not

abiding, 'tis better then to reject this pitiful and doting heart. All

things around us bear the stamp of instant change; born, they perish; no

self-sufficiency; those who would wish to keep them long, find in the

end no room for doing so. If things around us could be kept for aye, and

were not liable to change or separation, then this would be salvation!

where then can this be sought? You, and all that lives, can seek in me

this great deliverance! That which you may all attain I have already

told you, and tell you, to the end. Why then should I preserve this

body? The body of the excellent law shall long endure! I am resolved; I

look for rest! This is the one thing needful. So do I now instruct all

creatures, and as a guide, not seen before, I lead them; prepare

yourselves to cast off consciousness, fix yourselves well in your own

island. Those who are thus fixed mid-stream, with single aim and

earnestness striving in the use of means, preparing quietly a quiet

place, not moved by others' way of thinking, know well, such men are

safe on the law's island. Fixed in contemplation, lighted by the lamp of

wisdom, they have thus finally destroyed ignorance and gloom. Consider

well the world's four bounds, and dare to seek for true religion only;

forget 'yourself,' and every 'ground of self,' the bones, the nerves,

the skin, the flesh, the mucus, the blood that flows through every vein;

behold these things as constantly impure, what joy then can there be in

such a body? every sensation born from cause, like the bubble floating

on the water. The sorrow coming from the consciousness of birth and

death and inconstancy, removes all thought of joy--the mind acquainted

with the law of production, stability, and destruction, recognizes how

again and once again things follow or succeed one another with no

endurance. But thinking well about Nirvâna, the thought of endurance is

forever dismissed; we see how the samskâras from causes have arisen, and

how these aggregates will again dissolve, all of them impermanent. The

foolish man conceives the idea of 'self,' the wise man sees there is no

ground on which to build the idea of 'self,' thus through the world he

rightly looks and well concludes, all, therefore, is but evil; the

aggregate amassed by sorrow must perish in the end! if once confirmed in

this conviction, that man perceives the truth. This body, too, of Buddha

now existing soon will perish: the law is one and constant, and without

exception." Buddha having delivered this excellent sermon, appeased the

heart of Ânanda.

Then all the Likkhavis, hearing the report, with fear and apprehension

assembled in a body; devoid of their usual ornaments, they hastened to

the place where Buddha was. Having saluted him according to custom, they

stood on one side, wishing to ask him a question, but not being able to

find words. Buddha, knowing well their heart, by way of remedy, in the

right use of means, spake thus:--

"Now I perfectly understand that you have in your minds unusual

thoughts, not referring to worldly matters, but wholly connected with

subjects of religion; and now you wish to hear from me, what may be

known respecting the report about my resolve to terminate my life, and

my purpose to put an end to the repetition of birth. Impermanence is the

nature of all that exists, constant change and restlessness its

conditions; unfixed, unprofitable, without the marks of long endurance.

In ancient days the Rishi kings, Vasishtha Rishi, Mândhâtri, the

Kakravartin monarchs, and the rest, these and all others like them, the

former conquerors, who lived with strength like Îsvara, these all have

long ago perished, not one remains till now; the sun and moon, Sakra

himself, and the great multitude of his attendants, will all, without

exception, perish; there is not one that can for long endure; all the

Buddhas of the past ages, numerous as the sands of the Ganges, by their

wisdom enlightening the world, have all gone out as a lamp; all the

Buddhas yet to come will also perish in the same way; why then should I

alone be different? I too will pass into Nirvana; but as they prepared

others for salvation, so now should you press forward in the path;

Vaisâli may be glad indeed, if you should find the way of rest! The

world, in truth, is void of help, the 'three worlds' not enough for

joy--stay then the course of sorrow, by engendering a heart without

desire. Give up for good the long and straggling way of life, press

onward on the northern track, step by step advance along the upward

road, as the sun skirts along the western mountains."

At this time the Likkhavis, with saddened hearts, went back along the

way; lifting their hands to heaven and sighing bitterly: "Alas! what

sorrow this! His body like the pure gold mountain, the marks upon his

person so majestic, ere long and like a towering crag he falls; not to

live, then why not, 'not to love'? The powers of birth and death,

weakened awhile, the lord Tathâgata, himself the fount of wisdom

appeared, and now to give it up and disappear! without a saviour now,

what check to sorrow? The world long time endured in darkness, and men

were led by a false light along the way--when lo! the sun of wisdom

rose; and now, again, it fades and dies--no warning given. Behold the

whirling waves of ignorance engulfing all the world! Why is the bridge

or raft of wisdom in a moment cut away? The loving and the great

physician king came with remedies of wisdom, beyond all price, to heal

the hurts and pains of men--why suddenly goes he away? The excellent and

heavenly flag of love adorned with wisdom's blazonry, embroidered with

the diamond heart, the world not satisfied with gazing on it, the

glorious flag of heavenly worship! Why in a moment is it snapped? Why

such misfortune for the world, when from the tide of constant

revolutions a way of escape was opened--but now shut again! and there is

no escape from weary sorrow! Tathâgata, possessed of fond and loving

heart, now steels himself and goes away; he holds his heart so patient

and so loving, and, like the Wai-ka-ni flower, with thoughts cast down,

irresolute and tardy, he goes depressed along the road. Or like a man

fresh from a loved one's grave, the funeral past and the last farewell

taken, comes back with anxious look."

Parinirvâna

When Buddha went towards the place of his Nirvâna, the city of Vaisâli

was as if deserted, as when upon a dark and cloudy night the moon and

stars withdraw their shining. The land that heretofore had peace, was

now afflicted and distressed; as when a loving father dies, the orphan

daughter yields to constant grief. Her personal grace unheeded, her

clever skill but lightly thought of, with stammering lips she finds

expression for her thoughts; how poor her brilliant wit and wisdom now!

Her spiritual powers ill regulated without attractiveness, her loving

heart faint and fickle, exalted high but without strength, and all her

native grace neglected; such was the case at Vaisâli; all outward show

now fallen, like autumn verdure in the fields bereft of water, withered

up and dry; or like the smoke of a half-smouldering fire, or like those

who having food before them yet forget to eat, so these forgot their

common household duties, and nought prepared they for the day's

emergencies. Thinking thus on Buddha, lost in deep reflection, silent

they sat nor spoke a word. And now the lion Likkhavis manfully enduring

their great sorrow, with flowing tears and doleful sighs, signifying

thereby their love of kindred, destroyed forever all their books of

heresy, to show their firm adherence to the true law. Having put down

all heresy, they left it once for all; severed from the world and the

world's doctrines, convinced that non-continuance was the great disease.

Moreover thus they thought: "The lord of men now enters the great quiet

place (Nirvâna), and we are left without support, and with no saviour;

the highest lord of 'means' is now about to extinguish all his glory in

the final place of death. Now we indeed have lost our steadfast will, as

fire deprived of fuel; greatly to be pitied is the world, now that the

lord gives up his world-protecting office, even as a man bereft of

spiritual power throughout the world is greatly pitied. Oppressed by

heat we seek the cooling lake, nipped by the cold we use the fire; but

in a moment all is lost, the world is left without resource; the

excellent law, indeed, is left, to frame the world anew, as a

metal-caster frames anew his work. The world has lost its master-guide,

and, men bereaved of him, the way is lost; old age, disease, and death,

self-sufficient, now that the road is missed, pervade the world without

a way. What is there now throughout the world equal to overcome the

springs of these great sorrows? The great cloud's rain alone can make

the raging and excessive fire, that burns the world, go out. So only he

can make the raging fire of covetous desire go out; and now he, the

skilful maker of comparisons, has firmly fixed his mind to leave the

world! And why, again, is the sword of wisdom, ever ready to be used for

an uninvited friend, only like the draught of wine given to him about to

undergo the torture and to die? Deluded by false knowledge the mass of

living things are only born to die again; as the sharp knife divides the

wood, so constant change divides the world. The gloom of ignorance like

the deep water, lust like the rolling billow, sorrow like the floating

bubbles, false views like the Makara fish, amidst all these the ship of

wisdom only can carry us across the mighty sea. The mass of ills are

like the flowers of the sorrow-tree, old age and all its griefs, the

tangled boughs; death the tree's tap-root, deeds done in life the buds,

the diamond sword of wisdom only strong enough to cut down the mundane

tree! Ignorance the burning-glass, covetous desire the scorching rays,

the objects of the five desires the dry grass, wisdom alone the water to

put out the fire. The perfect law, surpassing every law, having

destroyed the gloom of ignorance, we see the straight road leading to

quietness and rest, the end of every grief and sorrow. And now the

loving one, converting men, impartial in his thoughts to friend or foe,

the all-knowing, perfectly instructed, even he is going to leave the

world! He with his soft and finely modulated voice, his compact body and

broad shoulders, he, the great Rishi, ends his life! Who then can claim

exemption? Enlightened, now he quickly passes hence! let us therefore

seek with earnestness the truth, even as a man meets with the stream

beside the road, then drinks and passes on. Inconstancy, this is the

dreaded enemy--the universal destroyer--sparing neither rich nor poor;

rightly perceiving this and keeping it in mind, this man, though

sleeping, yet is the only ever-wakeful."

Thus the Likkhavi lions, ever mindful of the Buddha's wisdom, disquieted

with the pain of birth and death, sighed forth their fond remembrance of

the man-lion. Retaining in their minds no love of worldly things, aiming

to rise above the power of every lustful quality, subduing in their

hearts the thought of light or trivial matters, training their thoughts

to seek the quiet, peaceful place; diligently practising the rules of

unselfish, charitable conduct; putting away all listlessness, they found

their joy in quietness and seclusion, meditating only on religious

truth. And now the all-wise, turning his body round with a lion-turn,

once more gazed upon Vaisâli, and uttered this farewell verse:--

"Now this, the last time this, I leave Vaisâli--the land where heroes

live and flourish! Now am I going to die." Then gradually advancing,

stage by stage he came to Bhoga-nagara, and there he rested in the Sâla

grove, where he instructed all his followers in the precepts:--

"Now having gone on high I shall enter on Nirvana: ye must rely upon the

law--this is your highest, strongest, vantage ground. What is not found

in Sûtra, or what disagrees with rules of Vinaya, opposing the one true

system of my doctrine, this must not be held by you. What opposes

Dharma, what opposes Vinaya, or what is contrary to my words, this is

the result of ignorance: ye must not hold such doctrine, but with haste

reject it. Receiving that which has been said aright, this is not

subversive of true doctrine, this is what I have said, as the Dharma and

Vinaya say. Accepting that which I, the law, and the Vinaya declare,

this is to be believed. But words which neither I, the law, nor the

Vinaya declare, these are not to be believed. Not gathering the true and

hidden meaning, but closely holding to the letter, this is the way of

foolish teachers, but contrary to my doctrine and a false way of

teaching. Not separating the true from false, accepting in the dark

without discrimination, is like a shop where gold and its alloys are

sold together, justly condemned by all the world. The foolish masters,

practising the ways of superficial wisdom, grasp not the meaning of the

truth; but to receive the law as it explains itself, this is to accept

the highest mode of exposition. Ye ought, therefore, thus to investigate

true principles, to consider well the true law and the Vinaya, even as

the goldsmith does who melts and strikes and then selects the true. Not

to know the Sûtras and the Sâstras, this is to be devoid of wisdom; not

saying properly that which is proper, is like doing that which is not

fit to see. Let all be done in right and proper order, according as the

meaning of the sentence guides, for he who grasps a sword unskilfully,

does but inflict a wound upon his hand. Not skilfully to handle words

and sentences, the meaning then is hard to know; as in the night-time

travelling and seeking for a house, if all be dark within, how difficult

to find. Losing the meaning, then the law is disregarded, disregarding

the law the mind becomes confused; therefore every wise and prudent

master neglects not to discover the true and faithful meaning."

Having spoken these words respecting the precepts of religion, he

advanced to the town of Pâvâ, where all the Mallas prepared for him

religious offerings of every kind. At this time a certain householder's

son whose name was Kunda, invited Buddha to his house, and there he gave

him, as an offering, his very last repast. Having partaken of it and

declared the law, he onward went to the town of Kusi, crossing the river

Tsae-kieuh and the Hiranyavati. Then in that Sâla grove, a place of

quiet and seclusion, he took his seat: entering the golden river he

bathed his body, in appearance like a golden mountain. Then he spake his

bidding thus to Ânanda: "Between those twin Sâla trees, sweeping and

watering, make a clean space, and then arrange my sitting-mat. At

midnight coming, I shall die."

Ânanda hearing the bidding of his master, his breath was choked with

heart-sadness; but going and weeping he obeyed the instruction, and

spreading out the mat he came forthwith back to his master and

acquainted him. Tathâgata having lain down with his head towards the

north and on his right side, slept thus. Resting upon his hand as on a

pillow with his feet crossed, even as a lion-king; all grief is passed,

his last-born body from this one sleep shall never rise. His followers

round him, in a circle gathered, sigh dolefully: "The eye of the world

is now put out!" The wind is hushed, the forest streams are silent, no

voice is heard of bird or beast. The trees sweat out large flowing

drops, flowers and leaves out of season singly fall, whilst men and

Devas, not yet free from desire, are filled with overwhelming fear. Thus

were they like men wandering through the arid desert, the road full

dangerous, who fail to reach the longed-for hamlet; full of fear they go

on still, dreading they might not find it, their heart borne down with

fear they faint and droop. And now Tathâgata, aroused from sleep,

addressed Ânanda thus: "Go! tell the Mallas, the time of my decease is

come; they, if they see me not, will ever grieve and suffer deep

regret." Ânanda listening to the bidding of his master, weeping went

along the road. And then he told those Mallas all--"The lord is near to

death." The Mallas hearing it, were filled with great, excessive grief.

The men and women hurrying forth, bewailing as they went, came to the

spot where Buddha was; with garments torn and hair dishevelled, covered

with dust and sweat they came. With piteous cries they reached the

grove, as when a Deva's day of merit comes to an end, so did they bow

weeping and adoring at the feet of Buddha, grieving to behold his

failing strength. Tathâgata, composed and quiet, spake: "Grieve not! the

time is one for joy; no call for sorrow or for anguish here; that which

for ages I have aimed at, now am I just about to obtain; delivered now

from the narrow bounds of sense, I go to the place of never-ending rest

and peace. I leave these things, earth, water, fire, and air, to rest

secure where neither birth nor death can come. Eternally delivered there

from grief, oh! tell me! why should I be sorrowful? Of yore on Sirsha's

mount, I longed to rid me of this body, but to fulfil my destiny I have

remained till now with men in the world; I have kept this sickly,

crumbling body, as dwelling with a poisonous snake; but now I am come to

the great resting-place, all springs of sorrow now forever stopped. No

more shall I receive a body, all future sorrow now forever done away; it

is not meet for you, on my account, for evermore, to encourage any

anxious fear."

The Mallas hearing Buddha's words, that he was now about to die, their

minds confused, their eyes bedimmed, as if they saw before them nought

but blackness, with hands conjoined, spake thus to Buddha: "Buddha is

leaving now the pain of birth and death, and entering on the eternal joy

of rest; doubtless we ought to rejoice thereat. Even as when a house is

burnt a man rejoices if his friends are saved from out the flames; the

gods! perhaps they rejoice--then how much more should men! But--when

Tathâgata has gone and living things no more may see him, eternally cut

off from safety and deliverance--in thought of this we grieve and

sorrow. Like as a band of merchants crossing with careful steps a

desert, with only a single guide, suddenly he dies! Those merchants now

without a protector, how can they but lament! The present age, coming to

know their true case, has found the omniscient, and looked to him, but

yet has not obtained the final conquest; how will the world deride! Even

as it would laugh at one who, walking o'er a mountain full of treasure,

yet ignorant thereof, hugs still the pain of poverty."

So spake the Mallas, and with tearful words excuse themselves to Buddha,

even as an only child pleads piteously before a loving father. Buddha

then, with speech most excellent, exhibited and declared the highest

principle of truth, and thus addressed the Mallas:--

"In truth, 'tis as you say; seeking the way, you must exert yourselves

and strive with diligence--it is not enough to have seen me! Walk, as I

have commanded you; get rid of all the tangled net of sorrow; walk in

the way with steadfast aim; 'tis not from seeing me this comes--even as

a sick man depending on the healing power of medicine, gets rid of all

his ailments easily without beholding the physician. He who does not do

what I command sees me in vain, this brings no profit; whilst he who

lives far off from where I am, and yet walks righteously, is ever near

me! A man may dwell beside me, and yet, being disobedient, be far away

from me. Keep your heart carefully--give not place to listlessness!

earnestly practise every good work. Man born in this world is pressed by

all the sorrows of the long career, ceaselessly troubled--without a

moment's rest, as any lamp blown by the wind!" The Mallas all, hearing

Buddha's loving instruction, inwardly composed, restrained their tears,

and, firmly self-possessed, returned.

Mahâparinirvâna

At this time there was a Brahmakârin whose name was Su-po-to-lo; he was

well-known for his virtuous qualities, leading a pure life according to

the rules of morality, and protecting all living things. When young he

had adopted heretical views, and become a recluse among

unbelievers--this one, wishing to see the lord, spake to Ânanda thus:--

"I hear that the system of Tathâgata is of a singular character and very

profound, and that he has reached the highest wisdom in the world, the

first of all horse-tamers. I hear moreover that he is now about to die,

it will be difficult indeed to meet with him again, and difficult to see

those who have seen him with difficulty, even as it is to catch in a

mirror the reflection of the moon. I now desire respectfully to see him

the greatest and most virtuous guide of men, because I seek to escape

this mass of sorrow and reach the other shore of birth and death. The

sun of Buddha now about to quench its rays, O! let me for a moment gaze

upon him." The feelings of Ânanda now were much affected, thinking that

this request was made with a view to controversy, or that he felt an

inward joy because the lord was on the eve of death. He was not willing

therefore to permit the interview with Buddha. Buddha, knowing the man's

earnest desire and that he was a vessel fit for true religion, therefore

addressed Ânanda thus: "Permit that heretic to advance; I was born to

save mankind, make no hindrance therefore, or excuse!"

Subhadra, hearing this, was overjoyed at heart, and his religious

feelings were much enlarged, as with increased reverence he advanced to

Buddha's presence. Then, as the occasion required, he spoke becoming

words and with politeness made his salutation, his features pleasing and

with hands conjoined he said:--

"Now I desire to ask somewhat from thee; the world has many teachers of

religion, those who know the law as I am myself; but I hear that Buddha

has attained a way which is the end of all complete emancipation. O that

you would, on my account, briefly explain your method, moisten my empty,

thirsty soul! not with a view to controversy or from a desire to gain

the mastery, but with sincerity I ask you so to do."

Then Buddha, for the Brahmakârin's sake, in brief recounted the eight

"right ways"--on hearing which, his empty soul accepted it, as one

deceived accepts direction in the right road. Perceiving now, he knew

that what he had before perceived was not the final way of salvation,

but now he felt he had attained what he had not before attained, and so

he gave up and forsook his books of heresy. Moreover, now he rejected

the gloomy hindrances of doubt, reflecting how by his former practices,

mixed up with anger, hate, and ignorance, he had long cherished no real

joy. For if, he argued, the ways of lust and hate and ignorance are able

to produce a virtuous karman, then "hearing much" and "persevering

wisdom," these, too, are born from lust, which cannot be. But if a man

is able to cut down hate and ignorance, then also he puts off all

consequences of works, and these being finally destroyed, this is

complete emancipation. Those thus freed from works are likewise freed

from subtle questionings, such as what the world says "that all things,

everywhere, possess a self-nature." But if this be the case and

therefore lust, hate, and ignorance, possess a self-implanted nature,

then this nature must inhere in them; what then means the word

"deliverance"? For even if we rightly cause the overthrow of hate and

ignorance, yet if lust remains, then there is a return of birth; even as

water, cold in its nature, may by fire be heated, but when the fire goes

out then it becomes cold again, because this is its constant nature; so

we may ever know that the nature which lust has is permanent, and

neither hearing wisdom nor perseverance can alter it. Neither capable of

increase or diminution, how can there be deliverance? I held aforetime

that birth and death resulted thus, from their own innate nature; but

now I see that such a belief excludes deliverance; for what is born by

nature must endure so, what end can such things have? Just as a burning

lamp cannot but give its light; the way of Buddha is the only true one,

that lust, as the root-cause, brings forth the things that live; destroy

this lust then there is Nirvana; the cause destroyed then the fruit is

not produced. I formerly maintained that "I" was a distinct entity, not

seeing that it has no maker. But now I hear the right doctrine preached

by Buddha, there is no "self" in all the world, for all things are

produced by cause, and therefore there is no creator. If then sorrow is

produced by cause, the cause may likewise be destroyed; for if the world

is cause-produced, then is the view correct, that by destruction of the

cause, there is an end. The cause destroyed, the world brought to an

end, there is no room for such a thought as permanence, and therefore

all my former views are "done away," and so he deeply "saw" the true

doctrine taught by Buddha.

Because of seeds well sown in former times, he was enabled thus to

understand the law on hearing it; thus he reached the good and perfect

state of quietness, the peaceful, never-ending place of rest. His heart

expanding to receive the truth, he gazed with earnest look on Buddha as

he slept, nor could he bear to see Tathâgata depart and die; "ere yet,"

he said, "Buddha shall reach the term I will myself first leave the

world;" and then with hands close joined, retiring from the holy form,

he took his seat apart, and sat composed and firm. Then giving up his

life, he reached Nirvâna, as when the rain puts out a little fire. Then

Buddha spake to all his followers: "This my very last disciple has now

attained Nirvâna, cherish him properly."

Then Buddha, the first night watch passed, the moon bright shining and

all the stars clear in their lustre, the quiet grove without a sound,

moved by his great compassionate heart, declared to his disciples this

his bequeathed precepts: "After my Nirvâna, ye ought to reverence and

obey the Pratimoksha, as your master, a shining lamp in the dark night,

or as a great jewel treasured by a poor man. These injunctions I have

ever given, these you ought to obey and follow carefully, and treat in

no way different from myself. Keep pure your body, words, and conduct,

put from you all concerns of daily life, lands, houses, cattle, storing

wealth or hoarding grain. All these should be avoided as we avoid a

fiery pit; sowing the land, cutting down shrubs, healing of wounds or

the practice of medicine, star-gazing and astrology, forecasting lucky

or unfortunate events by signs, prognosticating good or evil, all these

are things forbidden. Keeping the body temperate, eat at proper times;

receive no mission as a go-between; compound no philteries; abhor

dissimulation; follow right doctrine, and be kind to all that lives;

receive in moderation what is given; receive but hoard not up; these

are, in brief, my spoken precepts. These form the groundwork of my

rules, these also are the ground of full emancipation. Enabled thus to

live this is rightly to receive all other things. This is true wisdom

which embraces all, this is the way to attain the end; this code of

rules, therefore, ye should hold and keep, and never let it slip or be

destroyed. For when pure rules of conduct are observed then there is

true religion; without these, virtue languishes; found yourselves

therefore well on these my precepts; grounded thus in rules of purity,

the springs of feeling will be well controlled, even as the

well-instructed cow-herd guides well his cattle. Ill-governed feelings,

like the horse, run wild through all the six domains of sense, bringing

upon us in the present world unhappiness, and in the next, birth in an

evil way. So, like the horse ill-broken, these land us in the ditch;

therefore the wise and prudent man will not allow his senses license.

For these senses are, indeed, our greatest foes, causes of misery; for

men enamoured thus by sensuous things cause all their miseries to recur.

Destructive as a poisonous snake, or like a savage tiger, or like a

raging fire, the greatest evil in the world, he who is wise, is freed

from fear of these. But what he fears is only this--a light and trivial

heart, which drags a man to future misery--just for a little sip of

pleasure, not looking at the yawning gulf before us; like the wild

elephant freed from the iron curb, or like the ape that has regained the

forest trees, such is the light and trivial heart; the wise man should

restrain and hold it therefore. Letting the heart go loose without

restraint, that man shall not attain Nirvâna; therefore we ought to hold

the heart in check, and go apart from men and seek a quiet

resting-place. Know when to eat and the right measure; and so with

reference to the rules of clothing and of medicine; take care you do not

by the food you take, encourage in yourselves a covetous or an angry

mind. Eat your food to satisfy your hunger and drink to satisfy your

thirst, as we repair an old or broken chariot, or like the butterfly

that sips the flower destroying not its fragrance or its texture. The

Bhikshu, in begging food, should beware of injuring the faithful mind of

another; if a man opens his heart in charity, think not about his

capabilities, for 'tis not well to calculate too closely the strength of

the ox, lest by loading him beyond his strength you cause him injury. At

morning, noon, and night, successively, store up good works. During the

first and after-watch at night be not overpowered by sleep, but in the

middle watch, with heart composed, take sleep and rest--be thoughtful

towards the dawn of day. Sleep not the whole night through, making the

body and the life relaxed and feeble; think! when the fire shall burn

the body always, what length of sleep will then be possible? For when

the hateful brood of sorrow rising through space, with all its attendant

horrors, meeting the mind o'erwhelmed by sleep and death, shall seize

its prey, who then shall waken it?

"The poisonous snake dwelling within a house can be enticed away by

proper charms, so the black toad that dwells within his heart, the early

waker disenchants and banishes. He who sleeps on heedlessly without

plan, this man has no modesty; but modesty is like a beauteous robe, or

like the curb that guides the elephant. Modest behavior keeps the heart

composed, without it every virtuous root will die. Who has this modesty,

the world applauds; without it, he is but as any beast. If a man with a

sharp sword should cut the body bit by bit, let not an angry thought, or

of resentment, rise, and let the mouth speak no ill word. Your evil

thoughts and evil words but hurt yourself and not another; nothing so

full of victory as patience, though your body suffer the pain of

mutilation. For recollect that he who has this patience cannot be

overcome, his strength being so firm; therefore give not way to anger or

evil words towards men in power. Anger and hate destroy the true law;

and they destroy dignity and beauty of body; as when one dies we lose

our name for beauty, so the fire of anger itself burns up the heart.

Anger is foe to all religious merit, he who loves virtue let him not be

passionate; the layman who is angry when oppressed by many sorrows is

not wondered at. But he who has 'left his home' indulging anger, this is

indeed opposed to principle, as if in frozen water there were found the

heat of fire. If indolence arises in your heart, then with your own hand

smooth down your head, shave off your hair, and clad in sombre garments,

in your hand holding the begging-pot, go ask for food; on every side the

living perish, what room for indolence? the worldly man, relying on his

substance or his family, indulging in indolence, is wrong; how much more

the religious man, whose purpose is to seek the way of rescue, who

encourages within an indolent mind; this surely is impossible!

"Crookedness and straightness are in their nature opposite and cannot

dwell together more than frost and fire; for one who has become

religious, and practises the way of straight behavior, a false and

crooked way of speech is not becoming. False and flattering speech is

like the magician's art; but he who ponders on religion cannot speak

falsely. To 'covet much,' brings sorrow; desiring little, there is rest

and peace. To procure rest, there must be small desire--much more in

case of those who seek salvation. The niggard dreads the much-seeking

man lest he should filch away his property, but he who loves to give has

also fear, lest he should not possess enough to give; therefore we ought

to encourage small desire, that we may have to give to him who wants,

without such fear. From this desiring-little-mind we find the way of

true deliverance; desiring true deliverance we ought to practise

knowing-enough contentment.

"A contented mind is always joyful, but joy like this is but religion;

the rich and poor alike, having contentment, enjoy perpetual rest. The

ill-contented man, though he be born to heavenly joys, because he is not

contented would ever have a mind burned up by the fire of sorrow. The

rich, without contentment, endures the pain of poverty; though poor, if

yet he be contented, then he is rich indeed! That ill-contented man, the

bounds of the five desires extending further still, becomes insatiable

in his requirements, and so through the long night of life gathers

increasing sorrow. Without cessation thus he cherishes his careful

plans, whilst he who lives contented, freed from anxious thoughts about

relationships, his heart is ever peaceful and at rest. And so because he

rests and is at peace within, the gods and men revere and do him

service. Therefore we ought to put away all cares about relationship.

"For like a solitary desert tree in which the birds and monkeys gather,

so is it when we are cumbered much with family associations; through the

long night we gather many sorrows. Many dependents are like the many

bands that bind us, or like the old elephant that struggles in the mud.

By diligent perseverance a man may get much profit; therefore night and

day men ought with ceaseless effort to exert themselves; the tiny

streams that trickle down the mountain slopes by always flowing eat away

the rock. If we use not earnest diligence in drilling wood in wood for

fire, we shall not obtain the spark, so ought we to be diligent and

persevere, as the skilful master drills the wood for fire. A 'virtuous

friend' though he be gentle is not to be compared with right

reflection--right thought kept well in the mind, no evil thing can ever

enter there.

"Wherefore those who practise a religious life should always think about

'the body'; if thought upon one's self be absent, then all virtue dies.

For as the champion warrior relies for victory upon his armor's

strength, so 'right thought' is like a strong cuirass, able to withstand

the six sense-robbers. Right faith enwraps the enlightened heart, so

that a man perceives the world throughout is liable to birth and death;

therefore the religious man should practise faith.

"Having found peace in faith, we put an end to all the mass of sorrows,

wisdom then can enlighten us, and so we put away the rules by which we

acquire knowledge by the senses. By inward thought and right

consideration following with gladness the directions of the 'true law,'

this is the way in which both laymen of the world and men who have left

their homes should walk.

"Across the sea of birth and death, 'wisdom' is the handy bark; 'wisdom'

is the shining lamp that lightens up the dark and gloomy world. 'Wisdom'

is the grateful medicine for all the defiling ills of life; 'wisdom' is

the axe wherewith to level all the tangled forest trees of sorrow.

'Wisdom' is the bridge that spans the rushing stream of ignorance and

lust--therefore, in every way, by thought and right attention, a man

should diligently inure himself to engender wisdom. Having acquired the

threefold wisdom, then, though blind, the eye of wisdom sees throughout;

but without wisdom the mind is poor and insincere; such things cannot

suit the man who has left his home.

"Wherefore let the enlightened man lay well to heart that false and

fruitless things become him not, and let him strive with single mind for

that pure joy which can be found alone in perfect rest and quietude.

"Above all things be not careless, for carelessness is the chief foe of

virtue; if a man avoid this fault he may be born where Sakra-râga

dwells. He who gives way to carelessness of mind must have his lot where

the Asuras dwell. Thus have I done my task, my fitting task, in setting

forth the way of quietude, the proof of love. On your parts be diligent!

with virtuous purpose practise well these rules, in quiet solitude of

desert hermitage nourish and cherish a still and peaceful heart. Exert

yourselves to the utmost, give no place to remissness, for as in worldly

matters when the considerate physician prescribes fit medicine for the

disease he has detected, should the sick man neglect to use it, this

cannot be the physician's fault, so I have told you the truth, and set

before you this the one and level road. Hearing my words and not with

care obeying them, this is not the fault of him who speaks; if there be

anything not clearly understood in the principles of the 'four truths,'

you now may ask me, freely; let not your inward thoughts be longer hid."

The lord in mercy thus instructing them, the whole assembly remained

silent.

Then Anuruddha, observing that the great congregation continued silent

and expressed no doubt, with closed hands thus spake to Buddha:--

"The moon may be warm, the sun's rays be cool, the air be still, the

earth's nature mobile; these four things, though yet unheard of in the

world, may happen; but this assembly never can have doubt about the

principles of sorrow, accumulation, destruction, and the

incontrovertible truths, as declared by the lord. But because the lord

is going to die, we all have sorrow; and we cannot raise our thoughts to

the high theme of the lord's preaching. Perhaps some fresh disciple,

whose feelings are yet not entirely freed from other influences might

doubt; but we, who now have heard this tender, sorrowful discourse, have

altogether freed ourselves from doubt. Passed the sea of birth and

death, without desire, with nought to seek, we only know how much we

love, and, grieving, ask why Buddha dies so quickly?"

Buddha regarding Anuruddha, perceiving how his words were full of

bitterness, again with loving heart, appeasing him, replied:--

"In the beginning things were fixed, in the end again they separate;

different combinations cause other substances, for there is no uniform

and constant principle in nature. But when all mutual purposes be

answered, what then shall chaos and creation do! the gods and men alike

that should be saved, shall all have been completely saved! Ye then! my

followers, who know so well the perfect law, remember! the end must

come; give not way again to sorrow!

"Use diligently the appointed means; aim to reach the home where

separation cannot come; I have lit the lamp of wisdom, its rays alone

can drive away the gloom that shrouds the world. The world is not

forever fixed! Ye should rejoice therefore! as when a friend, afflicted

grievously, his sickness healed, escapes from pain. For I have put away

this painful vessel, I have stemmed the flowing sea of birth and death,

free forever now, from pain! for this you should exult with joy! Now

guard yourselves aright, let there be no remissness! that which exists

will all return to nothingness! and now I die. From this time forth my

words are done, this is my very last instruction."

Then entering the Samâdhi of the first Dhyâna, he went successively

through all the nine in a direct order; then inversely he returned

throughout and entered on the first, and then from the first he raised

himself and entered on the fourth. Leaving the state of Samâdhi, his

soul without a resting-place, forthwith he reached Nirvâna. And then, as

Buddha died, the great earth quaked throughout. In space, on every hand,

was fire like rain, no fuel, self-consuming. And so from out the earth

great flames arose on every side.

Thus up to the heavenly mansions flames burst forth; the crash of

thunder shook the heavens and earth, rolling along the mountains and the

valleys, even as when the Devas and Asuras fight with sound of drums and

mutual conflict. A wind tempestuous from the four bounds of earth

arose--whilst from the crags and hills, dust and ashes fell like rain.

The sun and moon withdrew their shining; the peaceful streams on every

side were torrent-swollen; the sturdy forests shook like aspen leaves,

whilst flowers and leaves untimely fell around, like scattered rain. The

flying dragons, carried on pitchy clouds, wept down their tears; the

four kings and their associates, moved by pity, forgot their works of

charity. The pure Devas came to earth from heaven, halting mid-air they

looked upon the changeful scene, not sorrowing, not rejoicing. But yet

they sighed to think of the world, heedless of its sacred teacher,

hastening to destruction. The eightfold heavenly spirits, on every side

filled space: cast down at heart and grieving, they scattered flowers as

offerings. Only Mâra-râga rejoiced, and struck up sounds of music in his

exultation. Whilst Gambudvipa shorn of its glory, seemed to grieve as

when the mountain tops fall down to earth, or like the great elephant

robbed of its tusks, or like the ox-king spoiled of his horns; or heaven

without the sun and moon, or as the lily beaten by the hail; thus was

the world bereaved when Buddha died!

Praising Nirvâna

At this time there was a Devaputra, riding on his thousand white-swan

palace in the midst of space, who beheld the Parinirvâna of Buddha. This

one, for the universal benefit of the Deva assembly, sounded forth at

large these verses on impermanence:--

"Impermanency is the nature of all things, quickly born, they quickly

die. With birth there comes the rush of sorrows, only in Nirvâna is

there joy. The accumulated fuel heaped up by the power of karman, this

the fire of wisdom alone can consume. Though the fame of our deeds reach

up to heaven as smoke, yet in time the rains which descend will

extinguish all, as the fire that rages at the kalpa's end is put out by

the judgment of water."

Again there was a Brahma-Rishi-deva, like a most exalted Rishi, dwelling

in heaven, possessed of superior happiness, with no taint in his bliss,

who thus sighed forth his praises of Tathâgata's Nirvâna, with his mind

fixed in abstraction as he spoke:

"Looking through all the conditions of life, from first to last nought

is free from destruction. But the incomparable seer dwelling in the

world, thoroughly acquainted with the highest truth, whose wisdom grasps

that which is beyond the world's ken, he it is who can save the

worldly-dwellers. He it is who can provide lasting escape from the

destructive power of impermanence. But, alas! through the wide world,

all that lives is sunk in unbelief."

At this time Anuruddha, "not stopped" by the world, "not stopped" from

being delivered, the stream of birth and death forever "stopped," sighed

forth the praises of Tathâgata's Nirvâna:--

"All living things completely blind and dark! the mass of deeds all

perishing, even as the fleeting cloud-pile! Quickly arising and as

quickly perishing! the wise man holds not to such a refuge, for the

diamond mace of inconstancy can overturn the mountain of the Rishi

hermit. How despicable and how weak the world! doomed to destruction,

without strength! Impermanence, like the fierce lion, can even spoil the

Nâga-elephant-great-Rishi. Only the diamond curtain of Tathâgata can

overwhelm inconstancy! How much more should those not yet delivered from

desire, fear and dread its power? From the six seeds there grows one

sprout, one kind of water from the rain, the origin of the four points

is far removed: five kinds of fruit from the two 'Koo'--the three

periods, past, present, future, are but one in substance; the

Muni-great-elephant plucks up the great tree of sorrow, and yet he

cannot avoid the power of impermanence. For like the crested bird

delights within the pool to seize the poisonous snake, but when from

sudden drought he is left in the dry pool, he dies; or as the prancing

steed advances fearlessly to battle, but when the fight has passed goes

back subdued and quiet; or as the raging fire burns with the fuel, but

when the fuel is done, expires; so is it with Tathâgata, his task

accomplished he returns to find his refuge in Nirvâna: just as the

shining of the radiant moon sheds everywhere its light and drives away

the gloom, all creatures grateful for its light, it disappears concealed

by Sumeru; such is the case with Tathâgata, the brightness of his wisdom

lit up the gloomy darkness, and for the good of all that lives drove it

away, when suddenly it disappears behind the mountain of Nirvâna. The

splendor of his fame throughout the world diffused, had banished all

obscurity, but like the stream that ever flows, it rests not with us;

the illustrious charioteer with his seven prancing steeds flies through

the host and disappears.

"The bright-rayed Sûrya-deva, entering the Yen-tsz' cave, was, with the

moon, surrounded with fivefold barriers; 'all things that live,'

deprived of light, present their offerings to heaven; but from their

sacrifice nought but the blackened smoke ascends; thus it is with

Tathâgata, his glory hidden, the world has lost its light. Rare was the

expectancy of grateful love that filled the heart of all that lives;

that love, reached its full limit, then was left to perish! The cords of

sorrow all removed, we found the true and only way; but now he leaves

the tangled mesh of life, and enters on the quiet place! His spirit

mounting through space, he leaves the sorrow-bearing vessel of his body!

the gloom of doubt and the great darkness all dispelled, by the bright

rays of wisdom! The earthy soil of sorrow's dust his wisdom's water

purifies! no more, no more, returns he here! forever gone to the place

of rest!

"The power of birth and death destroyed, the world instructed in the

highest doctrine! he bids the world rejoice in knowledge of his law, and

gives to all the benefit of wisdom! Giving complete rest to the world,

the virtuous streams flow forth! his fame known throughout the world,

shines still with increased splendor! How great his pity and his love to

those who opposed his claims, neither rejoicing in their defeat nor

exulting in his own success. Illustriously controlling his feelings, all

his senses completely enlightened, his heart impartially observing

events, unpolluted by the six objects of sense! Reaching to that

unreached before! obtaining that which man had not obtained! with the

water which he provided filling every thirsty soul! Bestowing that which

never yet was given, and providing a reward not hoped for! his peaceful,

well-marked person, perfectly knowing the thoughts of all.

"Not greatly moved either by loving or disliking! overcoming all enemies

by the force of his love! the welcome physician for all diseases, the

one destroyer of impermanency! All living things rejoicing in religion,

fully satisfied! obtaining all they need, their every wish fulfilled!

The great master of holy wisdom once gone returns no more! even as the

fire gone out for want of fuel! Declaring the eight rules without taint;

overcoming the five senses, difficult to compose! with the three powers

of sight seeing the three precious ones; removing the three robbers

(i.e. lust, anger, ignorance); perfecting the three grades of a holy

life, concealing the one (himself) and obtaining the one

saintship--leaping over the seven 'bodhyangas' and obtaining the long

sleep; the end of all, the quiet, peaceful way; the highest prize of

sages and of saints!

"Having himself severed the barriers of sorrow, now he is able to save

his followers, and to provide the draught of immortality for all who are

parched with thirst! Armed with the heavy cuirass of patience, he has

overcome all enemies! by the subtle principles of his excellent law to

satisfy every heart. Planting a sacred seed in the hearts of those

practising virtue; impartially directing and not casting off those who

are right or not right in their views! Turning the wheel of the

superlative law! received with gladness through the world by those who

have in former conditions implanted in themselves a love for religion,

these all saved by his preaching! Going forth among men converting those

not yet converted; those who had not seen the truth, causing them to see

the truth! All those practising a false method of religion, delivering

to them deep principles of his religion! preaching the doctrines of

birth and death and impermanency; declaring that without a master

teacher there can be no happiness! Erecting the standard of his great

renown, overcoming and destroying the armies of Mâra! advancing to the

point of indifference to pleasure or pain, caring not for life, desiring

only rest! Causing those not yet converted to obtain conversion! those

not yet saved to be saved! those not yet at rest to find rest! those not

yet enlightened to be enlightened!

"Thus the Muni taught the way of rest for the direction of all living

things! alas! that any transgressing the way of holiness should practise

impure works. Even as at the end of the great kalpa, those holding the

law who die, when the rolling sound of the mysterious thunder-cloud

severs the forests, upon these there shall fall the rain of immortality.

The little elephant breaks down the prickly forest, and by cherishing it

we know that it can profit men; but the cloud that removes the sorrow of

the elephant old-age, this none can bear. He by destroying systems of

religion has perfected his system, in saving the world and yet saving!

he has destroyed the teaching of heresy, in order to reach his

independent mode of doctrine.

"And now he enters the great quiet place! no longer has the world a

protector or saviour! the great army host of Mâra-râga, rousing their

warrior, shaking the great earth, desired to injure the honored Muni:

but they could not move him, whom in a moment now the Mâra 'inconstancy'

destroys. The heavenly occupants everywhere assemble as a cloud! they

fill the space of heaven, fearing the endless birth and death! their

hearts are full of grief and dread! His Deva eyes clearly behold,

without the limitations of near or distant, the fruits of works

discerned throughout, as an image perceived in a mirror! His Deva ears

perfect and discriminating throughout, hear all, though far away,

mounting through space he teaches all the Devas, surpassing his method

of converting men! He divides his body still one in substance, crosses

the water as if it were not weak (to bear)! remembers all his former

births, through countless kalpas none forgotten! His senses wandering

through the fields of sense, all these distinctly remembered; knowing

the wisdom learned in every state of mind, all this perfectly

understood! By spiritual discernment and pure mysterious wisdom equally

surveying all things! every vestige of imperfection removed! thus he has

accomplished all he had to do. By wisdom rejecting other spheres of

life, his wisdom now completely perfected, lo! he dies! let the world,

hard and unyielding, still, beholding it, relent!

"All living things though blunt in sense, beholding him, receive the

enlightenment of wisdom! their endless evil deeds long past, as they

behold, are cancelled and completely cleansed! In a moment gone! who

shall again exhibit qualities like his? no saviour now in all the

world--our hope cut off, our very breath is stopped and gone! Who now

shall give us life again with the cool water of his doctrine? his own

great work accomplished, his great compassion now has ceased to work for

long: has long ceased or stopped! The world ensnared in the toils of

folly, who shall destroy the net? who shall, by his teaching, cause the

stream of birth and death to turn again? Who shall declare the way of

rest to instruct the heart of all that lives, deceived by ignorance? Who

will point out the quiet place, or who make known the one true doctrine?

"All flesh suffering great sorrow, who shall deliver, like a loving

father? Like the horse changing his master loses all gracefulness, as he

forgets his many words of guidance! as a king without a kingdom, such is

the world without a Buddha! as a disciple with no power of dialectic

left, or like a physician without wisdom, as men whose king has lost the

marks of royalty, so, Buddha dead, the world has lost its glory! the

gentle horses left without a charioteer, the boat without a pilot left!

The three divisions of an army left without a general! the merchantman

without a guide! the suffering and diseased without a physician! a holy

king without his seven insignia. The stars without the moon! the loving

years without the power of life! such is the world now that Buddha, the

great teacher, dies!"

Thus spake the Arhat, all done that should be done, all imperfections

quite removed, knowing the meed of gratitude, he was grateful therefore.

Thus thinking of his master's love he spake! setting forth the world's

great sorrow; whilst those, not yet freed from the power of passion,

wept with many tears, unable to control themselves. Yet even those who

had put away all faults, sighed as they thought of the pain of birth and

death. And now the Malla host hearing that Buddha had attained Nirvâna,

with cries confused, wept piteously, greatly moved, as when a flight of

herons meet a hawk. In a body now they reach the twin trees, and as they

gaze upon Tathâgata dead, entered on his long sleep, those features

never again to awake to consciousness, they smote their breasts and

sighed to heaven; as when a lion seizing on a calf, the whole herd

rushes on with mingled sounds.

In the midst there was one Malla, his mind enamoured of the righteous

law, who gazed with steadfastness upon the holy law-king, now entered on

the mighty calm, and said: "The world was everywhere asleep, when Buddha

setting forth his law caused it to awake; but now he has entered on the

mighty calm, and all is finished in an unending sleep. For man's sake he

had raised the standard of his law, and now, in a moment, it has fallen;

the sun of Tathâgata's wisdom spreading abroad the lustre of its 'great

awakening,' increasing ever more and more in glory, spreading abroad the

thousand rays of highest knowledge, scattering and destroying all the

gloom of earth, why has the darkness great come back again? His

unequalled wisdom lightening the three worlds, giving eyes that all the

world might see, now suddenly the world is blind again, bewildered,

ignorant of the way; in a moment fallen the bridge of truth that spanned

the rolling stream of birth and death, the swelling flood of lust and

rage and doubt, and all flesh overwhelmed therein, forever lost."

Thus all that Malla host wept piteously and lamented; whilst some

concealed their grief nor spoke a word; others sank prostrate on the

earth; others stood silent, lost in meditation; others, with sorrowful

heart, groaned deeply. Then on a gold and silver gem-decked couch richly

adorned with flowers and scents, they placed the body of Tathâgata; a

jewelled canopy they raised above, and round it flags and streamers and

embroidered banners; then using every kind of dance and music, the lords

and ladies of the Mallas followed along the road presenting offerings,

whilst all the Devas scattered scents and flowers, and raised the sound

of drums and music in the heavens. Thus men and Devas shared one common

sorrow, their cries united as they grieved together. Entering the city,

there the men and women, old and young, completed their religious

offerings. Leaving the city, then, and passing through the Lung-tsiang

gate, and crossing over the Hiranyavati river, they repaired to where

the former Buddhas, having died, had Kaityas raised to them. There

collecting ox-head sandal-wood and every famous scented wood, they

placed the whole above the Buddha's body, pouring various scented oils

upon the pyre; then placing fire beneath to kindle it, three times they

walked around; but yet it burned not. At this time the great Kâsyapa had

taken his abode at Râgagriha, and knowing Buddha was about to die was

coming thence with all his followers; his pure mind, deeply moved,

desired to see the body of the lord; and so, because of that his sincere

wish, the fire went out and would not kindle. Then Kâsyapa and his

followers coming, with piteous sighs looked on the sight and reverenced

at the master's feet; and then, forthwith, the fire burst out. Quenched

the fire of grief within; without, the fire has little power to burn. Or

though it burn the outside skin and flesh, the diamond true-bone still

remains. The scented oil consumed, the fire declines, the bones they

place within a golden pitcher; for as the mystic world is not destroyed,

neither can these, the bones of Buddha, perish; the consequence of

diamond wisdom, difficult to move as Sumeru. The relics which the mighty

golden-pinioned bird cannot remove or change, they place within the

precious vase, to remain until the world shall pass away; and wonderful!

the power of men can thus fulfil Nirvâna's laws, the illustrious name of

one far spread, is sounded thus throughout the universe; and as the ages

roll, the long Nirvâna, by these, the sacred relics, sheds through the

world its glorious light, and brightens up the abodes of life. He

perished in a moment! but these relics, placed within the vase, the

imperishable signs of wisdom, can overturn the mount of sorrow; the body

of accumulated griefs this imperishable mind can cause to rest, and

banish once forever all the miseries of life. Thus the diamond substance

was dealt with at the place of burning. And now those valiant Mallas,

unrivalled in the world for strength, subduing all private animosities,

sought escape from sorrow in the true refuge. Finding sweet comfort in

united love, they resolved to banish every complaining thought.

Beholding thus the death of Tathâgata, they controlled their grieving

hearts, and with full strength of manly virtue dismissing every listless

thought, they submitted to the course of nature. Oppressed by thoughts

of grievous sorrow, they entered the city as a deserted wild: holding

the relics thus they entered, whilst from every street were offered

gifts. They placed the relics then upon a tower for men and Devas to

adore.

Division of the Sariras

Thus those Mallas offered religious reverence to the relics, and used

the most costly flowers and scents for their supreme act of worship.

Then the kings of the seven countries, having heard that Buddha was

dead, sent messengers to the Mallas asking to share the sacred relics of

Buddha. Then the Mallas reverencing the body of Tathâgata, trusting to

their martial renown, conceived a haughty mind: "They would rather part

with life itself," they said, "than with the relics of the Buddha"--so

those messengers returned from the futile embassage. Then the seven

kings, highly indignant, with an army numerous as the rain-clouds,

advanced on Kusinagara; the people who went from the city filled with

terror soon returned and told the Mallas all: that the soldiers and the

cavalry of the neighboring countries were coming, with elephants and

chariots, to surround the Kusinagara city. The gardens, lying without

the town, the fountains, lakes, flower and fruit-trees were now

destroyed by the advancing host, and all the pleasant resting-places lay

in ruins.

The Mallas, mounting on the city towers, beheld the great supports of

life destroyed; they then prepared their warlike engines to crush the

foe without: balistas and catapults and "flying torches," to hurl

against the advancing host. Then the seven kings entrenched themselves

around the city, each army host filled with increasing courage; their

wings of battle shining in array as the sun's seven beams of glory

shine; the heavy drums rolling as the thunder, the warlike breath rising

as the full cloud mist. The Mallas, greatly incensed, opening the gates

command the fray to begin; the aged men and women whose hearts had trust

in Buddha's law, with deep concern breathed forth their vow, "Oh! may

the victory be a bloodless one!" Those who had friends used mutual

exhortations not to encourage in themselves a desire for strife.

And now the warriors, clad in armor, grasping their spears and

brandishing their swords 'midst the confused noise and heavy drums

advanced. But ere the contest had begun, there was a certain Brahman

whose name was Drona, celebrated for penetration, honored for modesty

and lowliness, whose loving heart took pleasure in religion. This one

addressed those kings and said: "Regarding the unequalled strength of

yonder city, one man alone would be enough for its defence; how much

less when with determined heart they are united, can you subdue it! In

the beginning mutual strife produced destruction, how now can it result

in glory or renown? The clash of swords and bloody onset done, 'tis

certain one must perish! and therefore whilst you aim to vanquish those,

both sides will suffer in the fray. Then there are many chances, too, of

battle: 'tis hard to measure strength by appearances; the strong,

indeed, may overcome the weak, the weak may also overcome the strong;

the powerful champion may despise the snake, but how will he escape a

wounded body? there are men whose natures bland and soft, seem suited

for the company of women or of children, but when enlisted in the ranks,

make perfect soldiers. As fire when it is fed with oil, though reckoned

weak, is not extinguished easily, so when you say that they are weak,

beware of leaning overmuch on strength of body; nought can compare with

strength of right religion. There was in ancient times a Gina king,

whose name was Kârandhama, his graceful upright presence caused such

love in others that he could overcome all animosity; but though he ruled

the world and was high renowned, and rich and prosperous, yet in the end

he went back and all was lost! So when the ox has drunk enough, he too

returns. Use then the principles of righteousness, use the expedients of

good will and love. Conquer your foe by force, you increase his enmity;

conquer by love, and you will reap no after-sorrow. The present strife

is but a thirst for blood, this thing cannot be endured! If you desire

to honor Buddha, follow the example of his patience and long-suffering!"

Thus this Brahman with confidence declared the truth; imbued with

highest principles of peace, he spake with boldness and unflinchingly.

And now the kings addressed the Brahman thus: "You have chosen a fitting

time for giving increase to the seed of wisdom: the essence of true

friendship is the utterance of truth. The greatest force of reason lies

in righteous judgment. But now in turn hear what we say: The rules of

kings are framed to avoid the use of force when hatred has arisen from

low desires, or else to avoid the sudden use of violence in trifling

questions where some trifling matter is at stake. But we for the sake of

law are about to fight. What wonder is it! Swollen pride is a principle

to be opposed, for it leads to the overthrow of society; no wonder then

that Buddha preached against it, teaching men to practise lowliness and

humility. Then why should we be forbidden to pay our reverence to his

body-relics? In ancient days a lord of the great earth, Pih-shih-tsung

and Nanda, for the sake of a beautiful woman fought and destroyed each

other; how much more now, for the sake of religious reverence to our

master, freed from passion, gone to Nirvâna, without regard to self, or

careful of our lives, should we contend and assert our rights! A former

king, Kaurava, fought with a Pândava king, and the more they increased

in strength the more they struggled, all for some temporary gain; how

much more for our not-coveting master should we contend, coveting to get

his living relics? The son of Râma, too, the Rishi, angry with King

Dasa-ratha, destroyed his country, slew the people, because of the rage

he felt; how much less for our master, freed from anger, should we be

niggard of our lives! Râma, for Sita's sake, killed all the

demon-spirits; how much more for our lord, heaven-received, should we

not sacrifice our lives! The two demons A-lai and Po-ku were ever drawn

into contention; in the first place, because of their folly and

ignorance, causing wide ruin among men; how much less for our all-wise

master should we begrudge our lives! Wherefore if from these examples we

find others ready to die for no real principle, how shall we for our

teacher of gods (Devas) and men, reverenced by the universe, spare our

bodies or begrudge our lives, and not be earnest in desire to make our

offerings! Now then, if you desire to stay the strife, go and for us

demand within the city that they open wide the relics, and so cause our

prayer to be fulfilled. But because your words are right ones, we hold

our anger for a while; even as the great, angry snake, by the power of

charms is quieted."

And now the Brahman, having received the kings' instruction, entering

the city, went to the Mallas, and saluting them, spoke these true words:

"Without the city those who are kings among men grasp with their hands

their martial weapons, and with their bodies clad in weighty armor wait

eagerly to fight; glorious as the sun's rays, bristling with rage as the

roused lion. These united are, to overthrow this city. But whilst they

wage this religious war, they fear lest they may act irreligiously, and

so they have sent me here to say what they require: 'We have come, not

for the sake of territory, much less for money's sake, nor on account of

any insolent feeling, nor yet from any thought of hatred; but because we

venerate the great Rishi, we have come on this account. You, noble sirs!

know well our mind! Why should there be such sorrowful contention! You

honor what we honor, both alike, then we are brothers as concerns

religion. We both with equal heart revere the bequeathed spiritual

relics of the lord. To be miserly in hoarding wealth, this is an

unreasonable fault; how much more to grudge religion, of which there is

so little knowledge in the world! The exclusive and the selfishly

inclined, should practise laws of hospitality; but if ye have not rules

of honor such as these, then shut your gates and guard yourselves.' This

is the tenor of the words, be they good or bad, spoken by them. But now

for myself and my own feelings, let me add these true and sincere

words:--Let there be no contention either way; reason ought to minister

for peace, the lord when dwelling in the world ever employed the force

of patience. Not to obey his holy teaching, and yet to offer gifts to

him, is contradiction. Men of the world, for some indulgence, some

wealth or land, contend and fight, but those who believe the righteous

law should obediently conform their lives to it; to believe and yet to

harbor enmity, this is to oppose 'religious principle' to 'conduct.'

Buddha himself at rest, and full of love, desired to bestow the rest he

enjoyed on all. To adore with worship the great merciful, and yet to

gender wide destruction, how is this possible? Divide the relics, then,

that all may worship them alike; obeying thus the law, the fame thereof

widespread, then righteous principles will be diffused; but if others

walk not righteously, we ought by righteous dealing to appease them, in

this way showing the advantage of religion, we cause religion everywhere

to take deep hold and abide. Buddha has told us that of all charity

'religious charity' is the highest; men easily bestow their wealth in

charity, but hard is the charity that works for righteousness."

The Mallas hearing the Brahman's words with inward shame gazed at one

another; and answered the Brahmakârin thus: "We thank you much for

purposing to come to us, and for your friendly and religious

counsel--speaking so well, and reasonably. Yours are words which a

Brahman ought to use, in keeping with his holy character; words full of

reconciliation, pointing out the proper road; like one recovering a

wandering horse brings him back by the path which he had lost. We then

ought to adopt the plan of reconciliation such as you have shown us; to

hear the truth and not obey it brings afterwards regretful sorrow."

Then they opened out the master's relics and in eight parts equally

divided them. Themselves paid reverence to one part, the other seven

they handed to the Brahman; the seven kings having accepted these,

rejoiced and placed them on their heads; and thus with them returned to

their own country, and erected Dâgobas for worship over them. The

Brahmakârin then besought the Mallas to bestow on him the relic-pitcher

as his portion, and from the seven kings he requested a fragment of

their relics, as an eighth share. Taking this, he returned and raised a

Kaitya, which still is named "the Golden Pitcher Dâgoba." Then the men

of Kusinagara collecting all the ashes of the burning, raised over them

a Kaitya, and called it "the Ashes Dâgoba." The eight Stûpas of the

eight kings, "the Golden Pitcher" and "the Ashes Stûpa."

Thus throughout Gambudvipa there first were raised ten Dâgobas. Then all

the lords and ladies of the country holding gem-embroidered canopies,

paid their offerings at the various shrines, adorning them as any golden

mountain. And so with music and with dancing through the day and night

they made merry, and sang. And now the Arhats numbering five hundred,

having forever lost their master's presence, reflecting there was now no

ground of certainty, returned to Gridhrakûta mount; assembling in King

Sakra's cavern, they collected there the Sûtra Pitaka; all the assembly

agreeing that the venerable Ânanda should say, for the sake of the

congregation, the sermons of Tathâgata from first to last: "Great and

small, whatever you have heard from the mouth of the deceased Muni."

Then Ânanda in the great assembly ascending the lion throne, declared in

order what the lord had preached, uttering the words "Thus have I

heard."

The whole assembly, bathed in tears, were deeply moved as he pronounced

the words "I heard"; and so he announced the law as to the time, as to

the place, as to the person; as he spoke, so was it written down from

first to last, the complete Sûtra Pitaka. By diligent attention in the

use of means, practising wisdom, all these Arhats obtained Nirvâna;

those now able so to do, or hereafter able, shall attain Nirvâna in the

same way. King Asoka born in the world when strong, caused much sorrow;

when feeble, then he banished sorrow; as the Asoka-flower tree, ruling

over Gambudvipa, his heart forever put an end to sorrow, when brought to

entire faith in the true law; therefore he was called "the King who

frees from sorrow." A descendant of the Mayûra family, receiving from

heaven a righteous disposition, he ruled equally over the world; he

raised everywhere towers and shrines, his private name the "violent

Asoka," now called the "righteous Asoka."

Opening the Dâgobas raised by those seven kings to take the Sarîras

thence, he spread them everywhere, and raised in one day eighty-four

thousand towers; only with regard to the eighth pagoda in Râmagrama,

which the Nâga spirit protected, the king was unable to obtain those

relics; but though he obtained them not, knowing they were spiritually

bequeathed relics of Buddha which the Nâga worshipped and adored, his

faith was increased and his reverent disposition. Although the king was

ruler of the world, yet was he able to obtain the first holy fruit; and

thus induced the entire empire to honor and revere the shrines of

Tathâgata.

In the past and present, thus there has been deliverance for all.

Tathâgata, when in the world; and now his relics--after his Nirvana;

those who worship and revere these, gain equal merit; so also those who

raise themselves by wisdom, and reverence the virtues of the Tathâgata,

cherishing religion, fostering a spirit of almsgiving, they gain great

merit also. The noble and superlative law of Buddha ought to receive the

adoration of the world. Gone to that undying place, those who believe

his law shall follow him there; therefore let all the Devas and men,

without exception, worship and adore the one great loving and

compassionate, who mastered thoroughly the highest truth, in order to

deliver all that lives. Who that hears of him, but yearns with love! The

pains of birth, old age, disease and death, the endless sorrows of the

world, the countless miseries of "hereafter," dreaded by all the Devas,

he has removed all these accumulated sorrows; say, who would not revere

him? to escape the joys of after life, this is the world's chief joy! To

add the pain of other births, this is the world's worst sorrow! Buddha,

escaped from pain of birth, shall have no joy of the "hereafter"!

And having shown the way to all the world, who would not reverence and

adore him? To sing the praises of the lordly monk, and declare his acts

from first to last, without self-seeking or self-honor, without desire

for personal renown, but following what the scriptures say, to benefit

the world, has been my aim.