"For having spewed forth lust, passion, and ignorance, shall I return to feed upon it? as a man might go back to his vomit! such misery, how could I bear? Like a man whose house has caught fire, by some expedient finds a way to escape, will such a man forthwith go back and enter it again? such conduct would disgrace a man! So I, beholding the evils, birth, old age, and death, to escape the misery, have become a hermit; shall I then go back and enter in, and like a fool dwell in their company? He who enjoys a royal estate and yet seeks rescue, cannot dwell thus, this is no place for him; escape is born from quietness and rest; to be a king is to add distress and poison; to seek for rest and yet aspire to royal condition are but contradictions; royalty and rescue, motion and rest, like fire and water, having two principles, cannot be united. So one resolved to seek escape cannot abide possessed of kingly dignity! And if you say a man may be a king, and at the same time prepare deliverance for himself, there is no certainty in this! to seek certain escape is not to risk it thus; it is through this uncertain frame of mind that once a man gone forth is led to go back home again; but I, my mind is not uncertain; severing the baited hook of relationship, with straightforward purpose, I have left my home. Then tell me, why should I return again?"

The great minister, inwardly reflecting, thought, "The mind of the royal prince, my master, is full of wisdom, and agreeable to virtue, what he says is reasonable and fitly framed." Then he addressed the prince and said: "According to what your highness states, he who seeks religion must seek it rightly; but this is not the fitting time for you; your royal father, old and of declining years, thinking of you his son, adds grief to grief; you say indeed, 'I find my joy in rescue. To go back would be apostasy.' But yet your joy denotes unwisdom, and argues want of deep reflection; you do not see, because you seek the fruit, how vain to give up present duty. There are some who say, There is 'hereafter'; others there are who say, 'Nothing hereafter.' So whilst this question hangs in suspense, why should a man give up his present pleasure? If perchance there is 'hereafter,' we ought to bear patiently what it brings; if you say, 'Hereafter is not,' then there is not either salvation! If you say, 'Hereafter is,' you would not say, 'Salvation causes it.' As earth is hard, or fire is hot, or water moist, or wind is mobile, 'Hereafter' is just so. It has its own distinct nature. So when we speak of pure and impure, each comes from its own distinctive nature. If you should say, 'By some contrivance this can be removed,' such an opinion argues folly. Every root within the moral world has its own nature predetermined; loving remembrance and forgetfulness, these have their nature fixed and positive; so likewise age, disease, and death, these sorrows, who can escape by strategy? If you say, 'Water can put out fire,' or 'Fire can cause water to boil and pass away,' then this proves only that distinctive natures may be mutually destructive; but nature in harmony produces living things; so man when first conceived within the womb, his hands, his feet, and all his separate members, his spirit and his understanding, of themselves are perfected; but who is he who does it? Who is he that points the prickly thorn? This too is nature, self-controlling. And take again the different kinds of beasts, these are what they are, without desire on their part; and so, again, the heaven-born beings, whom the self-existent (Isvara) rules, and all the world of his creation; these have no self-possessed power of expedients; for if they had a means of causing birth, there would be also means for controlling death, and then what need of self-contrivance, or seeking for deliverance? There are those who say, 'I' (the soul) is the cause of birth, and others who affirm, 'I' (the soul) is the cause of death. There are some who say, 'Birth comes from nothingness, and without any plan of ours we perish.' Thus one is born a fortunate child, removed from poverty, of noble family, or learned in testamentary lore of Rishis, or called to offer mighty sacrifices to the gods, born in either state, untouched by poverty, then their famous name becomes to them 'escape,' their virtues handed down by name to us; yet if these attained their happiness, without contrivance of their own, how vain and fruitless is the toil of those who seek 'escape.' And you, desirous of deliverance, purpose to practise some high expedient, whilst your royal father frets and sighs; for a short while you have essayed the road, and leaving home have wandered through the wilds, to return then would not now be wrong; of old, King Ambarisha for a long while dwelt in the grievous forest, leaving his retinue and all his kinsfolk, but afterwards returned and took the royal office; and so Rama, son of the king of the country, leaving his country occupied the mountains, but hearing he was acting contrary to usage, returned and governed righteously. And so the king of Sha-lo-po, called To-lo-ma, father and son, both wandered forth as hermits, but in the end came back again together; so Po-'sz-tsau Muni, with On-tai-tieh, in the wild mountains practising as Brahmakarins, these too returned to their own country. Thus all these worthies of a by-gone age, famous for their advance in true religion, came back home and royally governed, as lamps enlightening the world. Wherefore for you to leave the mountain wilds, religiously to rule, is not a crime."

The royal prince, listening to the great minister's loving words without excess of speaking, full of sound argument, clear and unconfused, with no desire to wrangle after the way of the schools, with fixed purpose, deliberately speaking, thus answered the great minister: "The question of being and not being is an idle one, only adding to the uncertainty of an unstable mind, and to talk of such matters I have no strong inclination; purity of life, wisdom, the practice of asceticism, these are matters to which I earnestly apply myself, the world is full of empty studies which our teachers in their office skilfully involve; but they are without any true principle, and I will none of them! The enlightened man distinguishes truth from falsehood; but how can truth be born from such as those? For they are like the man born blind, leading the blind man as a guide; as in the night, as in thick darkness both wander on, what recovery is there for them? Regarding the question of the pure and impure, the world involved in self-engendered doubt cannot perceive the truth; better to walk along the way of purity, or rather follow the pure law of self-denial, hate the practice of impurity, reflect on what was said of old, not obstinate in one belief or one tradition, with sincere mind accepting all true words, and ever banishing sinful sorrow (i.e. sin, the cause of grief). Words which exceed sincerity are vainly spoken; the wise man uses not such words. As to what you say of Rama and the rest, leaving their home, practising a pure life, and then returning to their country, and once more mixing themselves in sensual pleasures, such men as these walk vainly; those who are wise place no dependence on them. Now, for your sakes, permit me, briefly, to recount this one true principle of action: The sun, the moon may fall to earth, Sumeru and all the snowy mountains overturn, but I will never change my purpose; rather than enter a forbidden place, let me be cast into the fierce fire; not to accomplish rightly what I have entered on, and to return once more to my own land, there to enter the fire of the five desires, let it befall me as my own oath records." So spake the prince, his arguments as pointed as the brightness of the perfect sun; then rising up he passed some distance off.

The Purohita and the minister, their words and discourse prevailing nothing, conversed together, after which, resolving to depart on their return, with great respect they quietly inform the prince, not daring to intrude their presence on him further; and yet regarding the king's commands, not willing to return with unbecoming haste. They loitered quietly along the way, and whomsoever they encountered, selecting those who seemed like wise men, they interchanged such thoughts as move the learned, hiding their true position, as men of title; then passing on, they speeded on their way.

[Footnote 97: That is, raising his nose to look up at the sun.]

[Footnote 98: This description of the prince's hair seems to contradict the head arrangement of the figures of Buddha, unless the curls denote the shaven head of the recluse.]



CHAPTER III

Bimbisara Raga Invites the Prince

The royal prince, departing from the court-master (i.e. the Purohita) and the great minister, Saddharma, keeping along the stream, then crossing the Ganges, he took the road towards the Vulture Peak,[99] hidden among the five mountains, standing alone a lovely peak as a roof amid the others. The trees and shrubs and flowers in bloom, the flowing fountains, and the cooling rills; all these he gazed upon—then passing on, he entered the city of the five peaks, calm and peaceful, as one come down from heaven. The country folk, seeing the royal prince, his comeliness and his excessive grace, though young in years, yet glorious in his person, incomparable as the appearance of a great master, seeing him thus, strange thoughts affected them, as if they gazed upon the banner of Isvara. They stayed the foot, who passed athwart the path; those hastened on, who were behind; those going before, turned back their heads and gazed with earnest, wistful look. The marks and distinguishing points of his person, on these they fixed their eyes without fatigue, and then approached with reverent homage, joining both their hands in salutation. With all there was a sense of wondrous joy, as in their several ways they offered what they had, looking at his noble and illustrious features; bending down their bodies modestly, correcting every careless or unseemly gesture, thus they showed their reverence to him silently; those who with anxious heart, seeking release, were moved by love, with feelings composed, bowed down the more. Great men and women, in their several engagements, at the same time arrested on their way, paid to his person and his presence homage: and following him as they gazed, they went not back. For the white circle between his eyebrows adorning his wide and violet-colored eyes, his noble body bright as gold, his pure and web-joined fingers, all these, though he were but a hermit, were marks of one who was a holy king; and now the men and women of Ragagriha, the old and young alike, were moved, and cried, "This man so noble as a recluse, what common joy is this for us!" At this time Bimbisara Raga, placed upon a high tower of observation, seeing all those men and women, in different ways exhibiting one mark of surprise, calling before him some man outside, inquired at once the cause of it; this one bending his knee below the tower, told fully what he had seen and heard, "That one of the Sakya race, renowned of old, a prince most excellent and wonderful, divinely wise, beyond the way of this world, a fitting king to rule the eight regions, now without home, is here, and all men are paying homage to him."

The king on hearing this was deeply moved at heart, and though his body was restrained, his soul had gone. Calling his ministers speedily before him, and all his nobles and attendants, he bade them follow secretly the prince's steps, to observe what charity was given. So, in obedience to the command, they followed and watched him steadfastly, as with even gait and unmoved presence he entered on the town and begged his food, according to the rule of all great hermits, with joyful mien and undisturbed mind, not anxious whether much or little alms were given; whatever he received, costly or poor, he placed within his bowl, then turned back to the wood, and having eaten it and drunk of the flowing stream, he joyous sat upon the immaculate mountain. There he beheld the green trees fringing with their shade the crags, the scented flowers growing between the intervals, whilst the peacocks and the other birds, joyously flying, mingled their notes; his sacred garments bright and lustrous, shone as the sun-lit mulberry leaves; the messengers beholding his fixed composure, one by one returning, reported what they had seen; the king hearing it, was moved at heart, and forthwith ordered his royal equipment to be brought, his god-like crown and his flower-bespangled robes; then, as the lion-king, he strode forth, and choosing certain aged persons of consideration, learned men, able calmly and wisely to discriminate, he, with them, led the way, followed by a hundred thousand people, who like a cloud ascended with the king the royal mountain.

And now beholding the dignity of Bodhisattva, every outward gesture under government, sitting with ease upon the mountain crag, as the moon shining limpid in the pure heavens, so was his matchless beauty and purity of grace; then as the converting presence of religion dwelling within the heart makes it reverential, so, beholding him, he reverently approached, even as divine Sakara comes to the presence of Mo-hi-su-ma, so with every outward form of courtesy and reverence the king approached and asked him respectfully of his welfare.

Bodhisattva, answering as he was moved, in his turn made similar inquiries. Then the king, the questioning over, sat down with dignity upon a clean-faced rock. And so he steadfastly beheld the divine appearance of the prince, the sweetness and complacency of his features revealing what his station was and high estate, his family renown, received by inheritance; the king, who for a time restrained his feelings, now wishful to get rid of doubts, inquired why one descended from the royal family of the sun-brightness having attended to religious sacrifices through ten thousand generations, whereof the virtue had descended as his full inheritance, increasing and accumulating until now, why he so excellent in wisdom, so young in years, had now become a recluse, rejecting the position of a Kakravartin's son, begging his food, despising family fame, his beauteous form, fit for perfumes and anointings, why clothed with coarse Kasaya garments; the hand which ought to grasp the reins of empire, instead thereof, taking its little stint of food; if indeed (the king continued) you were not of royal descent, and would receive as an offering the transfer of this land, then would I divide with you my empire; saying this, he scarcely hoped to excite his feelings, who had left his home and family, to be a hermit. Then forthwith the king proceeded thus: "Give just weight I pray you to my truthful words: desire for power is kin to nobleness, and so is just pride of fame or family or wealth or personal appearance; no longer having any wish to subdue the proud, or to bend others down and so get thanks from men, it were better, then, to give to the strong and warlike martial arms to wear, for them to follow war and by their power to get supremacy; but when by one's own power a kingdom falls to hand, who would not then accept the reins of empire? The wise man knows the time to take religion, wealth, and worldly pleasure. But if he obtains not the threefold profit, then in the end he abates his earnest efforts, and reverencing religion, he lets go material wealth. Wealth is the one desire of worldly men; to be rich and lose all desire for religion, this is to gain but outside wealth. But to be poor and even thus despise religion, what pleasure can indulgence give in such a case! But when possessed of all the three, and when enjoyed with reason and propriety, then religion, wealth, and pleasure make what is rightly called a great master; permit not, then, your perfectly endowed body to lay aside its glory, without reward; the Kakravartin, as a monarch, ruled the four empires of the world, and shared with Sakra his royal throne, but was unequal to the task of ruling heaven. But you, with your redoubtable strength, may well grasp both heavenly and human power; I do not rely upon my kingly power, in my desire to keep you here by force, but seeing you change your comeliness of person, and wearing the hermit's garb, whilst it makes me reverence you for your virtue, moves me with pity and regret for you as a man; you now go begging your food, and I offer you the whole land as yours; whilst you are young and lusty enjoy yourself. During middle life acquire wealth, and when old and all your abilities ripened, then is the time for following the rules of religion; when young to encourage religious fervor, is to destroy the sources of desire; but when old and the breath is less eager, then is the time to seek religious solitude; when old we should avoid, as a shame, desire of wealth, but get honor in the world by a religious life; but when young, and the heart light and elastic, then is the time to partake of pleasure, in boon companionship to indulge in gayety, and partake to the full of mutual intercourse; but as years creep on, giving up indulgence, to observe the ordinances of religion, to mortify the five desires, and go on increasing a joyful and religious heart, is not this the law of the eminent kings of old, who as a great company paid worship to heaven, and borne on the dragon's back received the joys of celestial abodes? All these divine and victorious monarchs, glorious in person, richly adorned, thus having as a company performed their religious offering, in the end received the reward of their conduct in heaven." Thus Bimbasara Raga used every kind of winning expedient in argument The royal prince, unmoved and fixed, remained firm as Mount Sumeru.

The Reply to Bimbasara Raga

Bimbasara Raga, having, in a decorous manner, and with soothing speech, made his request, the prince on his part respectfully replied, in the following words, deep and heart-stirring: "Illustrious and world-renowned! Your words are not opposed to reason, descendant of a distinguished family—an Aryan—amongst men a true friend indeed, righteous and sincere to the bottom of your heart, it is proper for religion's sake to speak thus. In all the world, in its different sections, there is no chartered place for solid virtue, for if virtue flags and folly rules, what reverence can there be, or honor paid, to a high name or boast of prowess, inherited from former generations! And so there may be in the midst of great distress, large goodness, these are not mutually opposed. This then is so with the world in the connection of true worth and friendship. A true friend who makes good use of wealth—is rightly called a fast and firm treasure, but he who guards and stints the profit he has made, his wealth will soon be spent and lost; the wealth of a country is no constant treasure, but that which is given in charity is rich in returns, therefore charity is a true friend: although it scatters, yet it brings no repentance; you indeed are known as liberal and kind, I make no reply in opposition to you, but simply as we meet, so with agreeable purpose we talk. I fear birth, old age, disease, and death, and so I seek to find a sure mode of deliverance; I have put away thought of relatives and family affection, how is it possible then for me to return to the world and not to fear to revive the poisonous snake, and after the hail to be burned in the fierce fire; indeed, I fear the objects of these several desires, this whirling in the stream of life troubles my heart, these five desires, the inconstant thieves—stealing from men their choicest treasures, making them unreal, false, and fickle—are like the man called up as an apparition; for a time the beholders are affected by it, but it has no lasting hold upon the mind; so these five desires are the great obstacles, forever disarranging the way of peace; if the joys of heaven are not worth having, how much less the desires common to men, begetting the thirst of wild love, and then lost in the enjoyment, as the fierce wind fans the fire, till the fuel be spent and the fire expires; of all unrighteous things in the world, there is nothing worse than the domain of the five desires; for all men maddened by the power of lust, giving themselves to pleasure, are dead to reason. The wise man fears these desires, he fears to fall into the way of unrighteousness; for like a king who rules all within the four seas, yet still seeks beyond for something more, so is lust; like the unbounded ocean, it knows not when and where to stop. Mandha, the Kakravartin, when the heavens rained yellow gold, and he ruled all within the seas, yet sighed after the domain of the thirty-three heavens; dividing with Sakra his seat, and so through the power of this lust he died; Nung-Sha, whilst practising austerities, got power to rule the thirty-three heavenly abodes, but from lust he became proud and supercilious; the Rishi whilst stepping into his chariot, through carelessness in his gait, fell down into the midst of the serpent pit. Yen-lo, the universal monarch (Kakravartin), wandering abroad through the Trayastrimsas heaven, took a heavenly woman (Apsara) for a queen, and unjustly extorted the gold of a Rishi; the Rishi, in anger, added a charm, by which the country was ruined, and his life ended. Po-lo, and Sakra king of Devas, and Nung-Sha returning to Sakra; what certainty is there, even for the lord of heaven? Neither is any country safe, though kept by the mighty strength of those dwelling in it. But when one's clothing consists of grass, the berries one's food, the rivulets one's drink, with long hair flowing to the ground, silent as a Muni, seeking nothing, in this way practising austerities, in the end lust shall be destroyed. Know then, that the province of the five desires is avowedly an enemy of the religious man. Even the one-thousand-armed invincible king, strong in his might, finds it hard to conquer this. The Rishi Rama perished because of lust; how much more ought I, the son of a Kshatriya, to restrain lustful desire; but indulge in lust a little, and like the child it grows apace, the wise man hates it therefore; who would take poison for food? every sorrow is increased and cherished by the offices of lust. If there is no lustful desire, the risings of sorrow are not produced, the wise man seeing the bitterness of sorrow, stamps out and destroys the risings of desire; that which the world calls virtue, is but another form of this baneful law; worldly men enjoying the pleasure of covetous desire then every form of careless conduct results; these careless ways producing hurt, at death, the subject of them reaps perdition. But by the diligent use of means, and careful continuance therein, the consequences of negligence are avoided, we should therefore dread the non-use of means; recollecting that all things are illusory, the wise man covets them not; he who desires such things, desires sorrow, and then goes on again ensnared in love, with no certainty of ultimate freedom; he advances still and ever adds grief to grief, like one holding a lighted torch burns his hand, and therefore the wise man enters on no such things. The foolish man and the one who doubts, still encouraging the covetous and burning heart, in the end receives accumulated sorrow, not to be remedied by any prospect of rest; covetousness and anger are as the serpent's poison; the wise man casts away the approach of sorrow as a rotten bone; he tastes it not nor touches it, lest it should corrupt his teeth, that which the wise man will not take, the king will go through fire and water to obtain, the wicked sons labor for wealth as for a piece of putrid flesh, o'er which the hungry flocks of birds contend. So should we regard riches; the wise man is ill pleased at having wealth stored up, the mind wild with anxious thoughts, guarding himself by night and day, as a man who fears some powerful enemy, like as a man's feelings revolt with disgust at the sights seen beneath the slaughter post of the East Market; so the high post which marks the presence of lust, and anger, and ignorance, the wise man always avoids; as those who enter the mountains or the seas have much to contend with and little rest, as the fruit which grows on a high tree, and is grasped at by the covetous at the risk of life, so is the region of covetous desire, though they see the difficulty of getting it, yet how painfully do men scheme after wealth, difficult to acquire, easy to dissipate, as that which is got in a dream: how can the wise man hoard up such trash! Like covering over with a false surface a hole full of fire, slipping through which the body is burnt, so is the fire of covetous desire. The wise man meddles not with it. Like that Kaurava, or Pih-se-ni Nanda, or Ni-k'he-lai Danta, as some butcher's appearance, such also is the appearance of lustful desire; the wise man will have nothing to do with it; he would rather throw his body into the water or fire, or cast himself down over a steep precipice. Seeking to obtain heavenly pleasures, what is this but to remove the place of sorrow, without profit. Suen-tau, Po-sun-tau, brothers of Asura, lived together in great affection, but on account of lustful desire slew one another, and their name perished; all this then comes from lust; it is this which makes a man vile, and lashes and goads him with piercing sorrow; lust debases a man, robs him of all hope, whilst through the long night his body and soul are worn out; like the stag that covets the power of speech and dies, or the winged bird that covets sensual pleasure, or the fish that covets the baited hook, such are the calamities that lust brings; considering what are the requirements of life, none of these possess permanency; we eat to appease the pain of hunger, to do away with thirst we drink, we clothe ourselves to keep out the cold and wind, we lie down to rest to get sleep, to procure locomotion we seek a carriage, when we would halt we seek a seat, we wash to cleanse ourselves from dirt; all these things are done to avoid inconvenience; we may gather therefore that these five desires have no permanent character; for as a man suffering from fever seeks and asks for some cooling medicine, so covetousness seeks for something to satisfy its longings; foolish men regard these things as permanent, and as the necessary requirements of life, but, in sooth, there is no permanent cessation of sorrow; for by coveting to appease these desires we really increase them; there is no character of permanency therefore about them. To be filled and clothed are no lasting pleasures, time passes, and the sorrow recurs; summer is cool during the moon-tide shining; winter comes and cold increases; and so through all the eightfold laws of the world they possess no marks of permanence, sorrow and joy cannot agree together, as a person slave-governed loses his renown. But religion causes all things to be of service, as a king reigning in his sovereignty; so religion controls sorrow, as one fits on a burden according to power of endurance. Whatever our condition in the world, still sorrows accumulate around us. Even in the condition of a king, how does pain multiply, though bound to others by love, yet this is a cause of grief; without friends and living alone, what joy can there be in this? Though a man rules over the four kingdoms, yet only one part can be enjoyed; to be concerned in ten thousand matters, what profit is there in this, for we only accumulate anxieties. Put an end to sorrow, then, by appeasing desire, refrain from busy work, this is rest. A king enjoys his sensual pleasures; deprived of kingship there is the joy of rest; in both cases there are pleasures but of different kinds; why then be a king! Make then no plan or crafty expedient, to lead me back to the five desires; what my heart prays for, is some quiet place and freedom; but you desire to entangle me in relationships and duties, and destroy the completion of what I seek; I am in no fear of family hatred, nor do I seek the joys of heaven; my heart hankers after no vulgar profit, so I have put away my royal diadem; and contrary to your way of thinking, I prefer, henceforth, no more to rule. A hare rescued from the serpent's mouth, would it go back again to be devoured? holding a torch and burning himself, would not a man let it go? A man blind and recovering his sight, would he again seek to be in darkness? the rich, does he sigh for poverty? the wise, does he long to be ignorant? Has the world such men as these? then will I again enjoy my country. But I desire to get rid of birth, old age, and death, with body restrained, to beg my food; with appetites moderated, to keep in my retreat; and then to avoid the evil modes of a future life, this is to find peace in two worlds: now then I pray you pity me not. Pity, rather, those who rule as kings! their souls ever vacant and athirst, in the present world no repose, hereafter receiving pain as their meed. You, who possess a distinguished family name, and the reverence due to a great master, would generously share your dignity with me, your worldly pleasures and amusements; I, too, in return, for your sake, beseech you to share my reward with me; he who indulges in the threefold kinds of pleasure, this man the world calls 'Lord,' but this is not according to reason either, because these things cannot be retained, but where there is no birth, or life, or death, he who exercises himself in this way, is Lord indeed! You say that while young a man should be gay, and when old then religious, but I regard the feebleness of age as bringing with it loss of power to be religious, unlike the firmness and power of youth, the will determined and the heart established; but death as a robber with a drawn sword follows us all, desiring to catch his prey; how then should we wait for old age, ere we bring our mind to a religious life? Inconstancy is the great hunter, age his bow, disease his arrows, in the fields of life and death he hunts for living things as for the deer; when he can get his opportunity, he takes our life; who then would wait for age? And what the teachers say and do, with reference to matters connected with life and death, exhorting the young, mature, or middle-aged, all to contrive by any means, to prepare vast meetings for sacrifices, this they do indeed of their own ignorance; better far to reverence the true law, and put an end to sacrifice to appease the gods! Destroying life to gain religious merit, what love can such a man possess? even if the reward of such sacrifices were lasting, even for this, slaughter would be unseemly; how much more, when the reward is transient! Shall we, in search of this, slay that which lives, in worship? this is like those who practise wisdom, and the way of religious abstraction, but neglect the rules of moral conduct. It ill behooves us then to follow with the world, and attend these sacrificial assemblies, and seek some present good in killing that which lives; the wise avoid destroying life! Much less do they engage in general sacrifices, for the purpose of gaining future reward! the fruit promised in the three worlds is none of mine to choose for happiness! All these are governed by transient, fickle laws, like the wind, or the drop that is blown from the grass; such things therefore I put away from me, and I seek for true escape. I hear there is one O-lo-lam who eloquently discourses on the way of escape; I must go to the place where he dwells, that great Rishi and hermit. But in truth, sorrow must be banished; I regret indeed leaving you; may your country have repose and quiet! safely defended by you as by the divine Sakra raga! May wisdom be shed abroad as light upon your empire, like the brightness of the meridian sun! may you be exceedingly victorious as lord of the great earth, with a perfect heart ruling over its destiny! May you direct and defend its sons! ruling your empire in righteousness! Water and snow and fire are opposed to one another, but the fire by its influence causes vapor, the vapor causes the floating clouds, the floating clouds drop down rain; there are birds in space, who drink the rain, with rainless bodies.[100] Slaughter and peaceful homes are enemies! those who would have peace hate slaughter, and if those who slaughter are so hateful, then put an end, O king, to those who practise it! And bid these find release, as those who drink and yet are parched with thirst."

Then the king, clasping together his hands, with greatest reverence and joyful heart, said, "That which you now seek, may you obtain quickly the fruit thereof; having obtained the perfect fruit, return I pray and graciously receive me!"

Bodhisattva, his heart inwardly acquiescing, purposing to accomplish his prayer, departing, pursued his road, going to the place where Arada Kalama dwelt; whilst the king with all his retinue, their hands clasped, themselves followed a little space, then with thoughtful and mindful heart, returned once more to Ragagriha!

Visit to Arada Udrarama

The child of the glorious sun of the Ikshvaku race, going to that quiet peaceful grove, reverently stood before the Muni, the great Rishi Arada Rama; the dark-clad followers of the Kalam (Sangharama) seeing afar-off Bodhisattva approaching, with loud voice raised a joyful chant, and with suppressed breath muttered "Welcome," as with clasped hands they reverenced him. Approaching one another, they made mutual inquiries; and this being done, with the usual apologies, according to their precedence in age they sat down; the Brahmakarins observing the prince, beheld his personal beauty and carefully considered his appearance; respectfully they satisfied themselves of his high qualities, like those who, thirsty, drink the "pure dew." Then with raised hands they addressed the prince: "Have you been long an ascetic, divided from your family and broken from the bonds of love, like the elephant who has cast off restraint? Full of wisdom, completely enlightened, you seem well able to escape the poisonous fruit of this world. In old time the monarch Ming Shing gave up his kingly estate to his son, as a man who has carried a flowery wreath, when withered casts it away: but such is not your case, full of youthful vigor, and yet not enamoured with the condition of a holy king; we see that your will is strong and fixed, capable of becoming a vessel of the true law, able to embark in the boat of wisdom, and to cross over the sea of life and death. The common class, enticed to come to learn, their talents first are tested, then they are taught; but as I understand your case, your mind is already fixed and your will firm; and now you have undertaken the purpose of learning, I am persuaded you will not in the end shrink from it."

The prince hearing this exhortation, with gladness made reply: "You have with equal intention, illustrious! cautioned me with impartial mind; with humble heart I accept the advice, and pray that it may be so with me as you anticipate; that I may in my night-journey obtain a torch, to guide me safely through treacherous places; a handy boat to cross over the sea;—may it be so even now with me! But as I am somewhat in doubt and anxious to learn, I will venture to make known my doubts, and ask, with respect to old age, disease, and death, how are these things to be escaped?"

At this time O-lo-lam hearing the question asked by the prince, briefly from the various Sutras and Sastras quoted passages in explanation of a way of deliverance. "But thou," he said, "illustrious youth! so highly gifted, and eminent among the wise! hear what I have to say, as I discourse upon the mode of ending birth and death; nature, and change, birth, old age, and death, these five attributes belong to all; nature is (in itself) pure and without fault; the involution of this with the five elements, causes an awakening and power of perception, which, according to its exercise, is the cause of change; form, sound, order, taste, touch, these are called the five objects of sense; as the hand and foot are called the two ways, so these are called the roots of action (the five skandhas); the eye, the ear, the nose, the tongue, the body, these are named the roots (instruments) of understanding. The root of mind (manas) is twofold, being both material, and also intelligent; nature by its involutions is the cause, the knower of the cause is I (the soul); Kapila the Rishi and his numerous followers, on this deep principle of soul, practising wisdom (Buddhi), found deliverance. Kapila and now Vakaspati, by the power of Buddhi perceiving the character of birth, old age, and death, declare that on this is founded true philosophy; whilst all opposed to this, they say, is false. Ignorance and passion, causing constant transmigration, abiding in the midst of these (they say) is the lot of all that lives. Doubting the truth of soul is called excessive doubt, and without distinguishing aright, there can be no method of escape. Deep speculation as to the limits of perception is but to involve the soul; thus unbelief leads to confusion, and ends in differences of thought and conduct. Again, the various speculations on soul, such as 'I say,' 'I know and perceive,' 'I come' and 'I go,' or 'I remain fixed,' these are called the intricacies of soul. And then the fancies raised in different natures, some saying 'this is so,' others denying it, and this condition of uncertainty is called the state of darkness. Then there are those who say that outward things are one with soul, who say that the objective is the same as mind, who confuse intelligence with instruments, who say that number is the soul. Thus not distinguishing aright, these are called excessive quibbles, marks of folly, nature changes, and so on. To worship and recite religious books, to slaughter living things in sacrifice, to render pure by fire and water, and thus awake the thought of final rescue, all these ways of thinking are called without right expedient, the result of ignorance and doubt, by means of word or thought or deed; involving outward relationships, this is called depending on means; making the material world the ground of soul, this is called depending on the senses. By these eight sorts of speculation are we involved in birth and death. The foolish masters of the world make their classifications in these five ways: Darkness, folly, and great folly, angry passion, with timid fear. Indolent coldness is called darkness; birth and death are called folly; lustful desire is great folly; because of great men subjected to error, cherishing angry feelings, passion results; trepidation of the heart is called fear. Thus these foolish men dilate upon the five desires; but the root of the great sorrow of birth and death, the life destined to be spent in the five ways, the cause of the whirl of life, I clearly perceive, is to be placed in the existence of 'I'; because of the influence of this cause, result the consequences of repeated birth and death; this cause is without any nature of its own, and its fruits have no nature; rightly considering what has been said, there are four matters which have to do with escape, kindling wisdom—opposed to dark ignorance—making manifest—opposed to concealment and obscurity—if these four matters be understood, then we may escape birth, old age, and death. Birth, old age, and death being over, then we attain a final place; the Brahmans all depending on this principle, practising themselves in a pure life, have also largely dilated on it, for the good of the world."

The prince hearing these words again inquired of Arada: "Tell me what are the expedients you name, and what is the final place to which they lead, and what is the character of that pure Brahman life; and again what are the stated periods during which such life must be practised, and during which such life is lawful; all these are principles to be inquired into; and on them I pray you discourse for my sake."

Then that Arada, according to the Sutras and Sastras, spoke: "Yourself using wisdom is the expedient; but I will further dilate on this a little; first by removing from the crowd and leading a hermit's life, depending entirely on alms for food, extensively practising rules of decorum, religiously adhering to right rules of conduct; desiring little and knowing when to abstain, receiving whatever is given in food, whether pleasant or otherwise, delighting to practise a quiet life, diligently studying all the Sutras and Sastras; observing the character of covetous longing and fear, without remnant of desire to live in purity, to govern well the organs of life, the mind quieted and silently at rest; removing desire, and hating vice, all the sorrows of life put away, then there is happiness; and we obtain the enjoyment of the first dhyana.[101] Having obtained this first dhyana, then with the illumination thus obtained, by inward meditation is born reliance on thought alone, and the entanglements of folly are put away; the mind depending on this, then after death, born in the Brahma heavens, the enlightened are able to know themselves; by the use of means is produced further inward illumination; diligently persevering, seeking higher advance, accomplishing the second dhyana, tasting of that great joy, we are born in the Kwong-yin heaven; then by the use of means putting away this delight, practising the third dhyana, resting in such delight and wishing no further excellence, there is a birth in the Subhakritsna heaven; leaving the thought of such delight, straightway we reach the fourth dhyana, all joys and sorrows done away, the thought of escape produced; we dwell in this fourth dhyana, and are born in the Vrihat-phala heaven; because of its long enduring years, it is thus called Vrihat-phala (extensive-fruit); whilst in that state of abstraction rising higher, perceiving there is a place beyond any bodily condition, adding still and persevering further in practising wisdom, rejecting this fourth dhyana, firmly resolved to persevere in the search, still contriving to put away every desire after form, gradually from every pore of the body there is perceived a feeling of empty release, and in the end this extends to every solid part, so that the whole is perfected in an apprehension of emptiness. In brief, perceiving no limits to this emptiness, there is opened to the view boundless knowledge. Endowed with inward rest and peace, the idea of 'I' departs, and the object of 'I'—clearly discriminating the non-existence of matter, this is the condition of immaterial life. As the Munga (grass) when freed from its horny case, or as the wild bird which escapes from its prison trap, so, getting away from all material limitations, we thus find perfect release. Thus ascending above the Brahmans, deprived of every vestige of bodily existence, we still endure. Endued with wisdom! let it be known this is real and true deliverance. You ask what are the expedients for obtaining this escape; even as I have before detailed, those who have deep faith will learn. The Rishis Gaigishavya, Ganaka, Vriddha Parasara, and other searchers after truth, all by the way I have explained, have reached true deliverance."

The prince hearing these words, deeply pondering on the outline of these principles, and reaching back to the influences produced by our former lives, again asked with further words: "I have heard your very excellent system of wisdom, the principles very subtle and deep-reaching, from which I learn that because of not 'letting go' (by knowledge as a cause), we do not reach the end of the religious life; but by understanding nature in its involutions, then, you say, we obtain deliverance; I perceive this law of birth has also concealed in it another law as a germ; you say that the 'I' (i.e. the soul of Kapila) being rendered pure, forthwith there is true deliverance; but if we encounter a union of cause and effect, then there is a return to the trammels of birth; just as the germ in the seed, when earth, fire, water, and wind seem to have destroyed in it the principle of life, meeting with favorable concomitant circumstances will yet revive, without any evident cause, but because of desire; so those who have gained this supposed release, likewise keeping the idea of 'I' and living things, have in fact gained no final deliverance; in every condition, letting go the three classes and again reaching the three excellent qualities, because of the eternal existence of soul, by the subtle influences of that (influences resulting from the past), the heart lets go the idea of expedients, and obtains an almost endless duration of years. This, you say, is true release; you say 'letting go the ground on which the idea of soul rests,' that this frees us from 'limited existence,' and that the mass of people have not yet removed the idea of soul, and are therefore still in bondage. But what is this letting go gunas (cords fettering the soul); if one is fettered by these gunas, how can there be release? For guni (the object) and guna (the quality) in idea are different, but in substance one; if you say that you can remove the properties of a thing and leave the thing by arguing it to the end, this is not so. If you remove heat from fire, then there is no such thing as fire, or if you remove surface from body, what body can remain? Thus guna is as it were surface, remove this and there can be no guni. So that this deliverance, spoken of before, must leave a body yet in bonds. Again, you say that by clear knowledge you get rid of body; there is then such a thing as knowledge or the contrary; if you affirm the existence of clear knowledge, then there should be someone who possesses it (i.e. possesses this knowledge); if there be a possesor, how can there be deliverance from this personal 'I'? If you say there is no 'knower,' then who is it that is spoken of as 'knowing'? If there is knowledge and no person, then the subject of knowledge may be a stone or a log; moreover, to have clear knowledge of these minute causes of contamination and reject them thoroughly, these being so rejected, there must be an end, then, of the 'doer.' What Arada has declared cannot satisfy my heart. This clear knowledge is not universal wisdom, I must go on and seek a better explanation."

Going on then to the place of Udra Rishi, he also expatiated on this question of "I." But although he refined the matter to the utmost, laying down a term of "thought" and "no thought" taking the position of removing "thought" and "no thought," yet even so he came not out of the mire; for supposing creatures attained that state, still (he said) there is a possibility of returning to the coil, whilst Bodhisattva sought a method of getting out of it. So once more leaving Udra Rishi, he went on in search of a better system, and came at last to Mount Kia-ke (the forest of mortification), where was a town called Pain-suffering forest. Here the five Bhikshus had gone before. When then he beheld these five, virtuously keeping in check their senses, holding to the rules of moral conduct, practising mortification, dwelling in that grove of mortification; occupying a spot beside the Nairangana river, perfectly composed and filled with contentment, Bodhisattva forthwith by them selecting one spot, quietly gave himself to thought. The five Bhikshus knowing him with earnest heart to be seeking escape, offered him their services with devotion, as if reverencing Isvara Deva.

Having finished their attentions and dutiful services, then going on he took his seat not far off, as one about to enter on a course of religious practice, composing all his members as he desired. Bodhisattva diligently applied himself to "means," as one about to cross over old age, disease, and death. With full purpose of heart he set himself to endure mortification, to restrain every bodily passion, and give up thought about sustenance, with purity of heart to observe the fast-rules, which no worldly man can bear; silent and still, lost in thoughtful meditation; and so for six years he continued, each day eating one hemp grain, his bodily form shrunken and attenuated, seeking how to cross the sea of birth and death, exercising himself still deeper and advancing further; making his way perfect by the disentanglements of true wisdom, not eating, and yet not looking to that as a cause of emancipation, his four members although exceedingly weak, his heart of wisdom increasing yet more and more in light; his spirit free, his body light and refined, his name spreading far and wide, as "highly gifted," even as the moon when first produced, or as the Kumuda flower spreading out its sweetness. Everywhere through the country his excellent fame extended; the daughters of the lord of the place both coming to see him, his mortified body like a withered branch, just completing the period of six years, fearing the sorrow of birth and death, seeking earnestly the method of true wisdom, he came to the conviction that these were not the means to extinguish desire and produce ecstatic contemplation; nor yet the means by which in former time, seated underneath the Gambu tree, he arrived at that miraculous condition, that surely was the proper way, he thought, the way opposed to this of "withered body."

"I should therefore rather seek strength of body, by drink and food refresh my members, and with contentment cause my mind to rest. My mind at rest, I shall enjoy silent composure; composure is the trap for getting ecstasy (dhyana); while in ecstasy perceiving the true law, then the force of truth obtained, disentanglement will follow. And thus composed, enjoying perfect quiet, old age and death are put away; and then defilement is escaped by this first means; thus then by equal steps the excellent law results from life restored by food and drink."

Having carefully considered this principle, bathing in the Nairangana river, he desired afterwards to leave the water, but owing to extreme exhaustion was unable to rise; then a heavenly spirit holding out a branch, taking this in his hand he raised himself and came forth. At this time on the opposite side of the grove there was a certain chief herdsman, whose eldest daughter was called Nanda. One of the Suddhavasa Devas addressing her said, "Bodhisattva dwells in the grove, go you then, and present to him a religious offering."

Nanda Balada (or Balaga or Baladhya) with joy came to the spot, above her hands (i.e. on her wrists) white chalcedony bracelets, her clothing of a gray color; the gray and the white together contrasted in the light, as the colors of the rounded river bubble; with simple heart and quickened step she came, and, bowing down at Bodhisattva's feet, she reverently offered him perfumed rice milk, begging him of his condescension to accept it. Bodhisattva taking it, partook of it at once, whilst she received, even then, the fruits of her religious act. Having eaten it, all his members refreshed, he became capable of receiving Bodhi; his body and limbs glistening with renewed strength, and his energies swelling higher still, as the hundred streams swell the sea, or the first quartered moon daily increases in brightness. The five Bhikshus having witnessed this, perturbed, were filled with suspicious reflection; they supposed that his religious zeal was flagging, and that he was leaving and looking for a better abode, as though he had obtained deliverance, the five elements entirely removed.

Bodhisattva wandered on alone, directing his course to that "fortunate" tree,[102] beneath whose shade he might accomplish his search after complete enlightenment. Over the ground wide and level, producing soft and pliant grass, easily he advanced with lion step, pace by pace, whilst the earth shook withal; and as it shook, Kala naga aroused, was filled with joy, as his eyes were opened to the light. Forthwith he exclaimed: "When formerly I saw the Buddhas of old, there was the sign of an earthquake as now; the virtues of a Muni are so great in majesty, that the great earth cannot endure them; as step by step his foot treads upon the ground, so is there heard the sound of the rumbling earth-shaking; a brilliant light now illumes the world, as the shining of the rising sun; five hundred bluish-tinted birds I see, wheeling round to the right, flying through space; a gentle, soft, and cooling breeze blows around in an agreeable way; all these auspicious signs are the same as those of former Buddhas; wherefore I know that this Bodhisattva will certainly arrive at perfect wisdom. And now, behold! from yonder man, a grass cutter, he obtains some pure and pliant grass, which spreading out beneath the tree, with upright body, there he takes his seat; his feet placed under him, not carelessly arranged, moving to and fro, but like the firmly fixed and compact body of a Naga; nor shall he rise again from off his seat till he has completed his undertaking." And so he (the Naga) uttered these words by way of confirmation. The heavenly Nagas, filled with joy, caused a cool refreshing breeze to rise; the trees and grass were yet unmoved by it, and all the beasts, quiet and silent, looked on in wonderment.

These are the signs that Bodhisattva will certainly attain enlightenment.

Defeats Mara

The great Rishi, of the royal tribe of Rishis, beneath the Bodhi tree firmly established, resolved by oath to perfect the way of complete deliverance.

The spirits, Nagas, and the heavenly multitude, all were filled with joy; but Mara Devaraga, enemy of religion, alone was grieved, and rejoiced not; lord of the five desires, skilled in all the arts of warfare, the foe of those who seek deliverance, therefore his name is rightly given Pisuna. Now this Mara raga had three daughters, mincingly beautiful and of a pleasant countenance, in every way fit by artful ways to inflame a man with love, highest in this respect among the Devis. The first was named Yuh-yen, the second Neng-yueh-gin, the third Ngai-loh. These three, at this time, advanced together, and addressed their father Pisuna and said: "May we not know the trouble that afflicts you?"

The father, calming his feelings, addressed his daughters thus: "The world has now a great Muni, he has taken a strong oath as a helmet, he holds a mighty bow in his hand, wisdom is the diamond shaft he uses. His object is to get the mastery in the world, to ruin and destroy my territory; I am myself unequal to him, for all men will believe in him, and all find refuge in the way of his salvation; then will my land be desert and unoccupied. But as when a man transgresses the laws of morality, his body is then empty. So now, the eye of wisdom, not yet opened in this man, whilst my empire still has peace, I will go and overturn his purpose, and break down and divide the ridge-pole of his house."

Seizing then his bow and his five arrows, with all his retinue of male and female attendants, he went to that grove of "fortunate rest" with the vow that the world should not find peace. Then seeing the Muni, quiet and still, preparing to cross the sea of the three worlds, in his left hand grasping his bow, with his right hand pointing his arrow, he addressed Bodhisattva and said: "Kshatriya! rise up quickly! for you may well fear! your death is at hand; you may practise your own religious system, but let go this effort after the law of deliverance for others; wage warfare in the field of charity as a cause of merit, appease the tumultuous world, and so in the end reach your reward in heaven. This is a way renowned and well established, in which former saints have walked, Rishis and kings and men of eminence; but this system of penury and alms-begging is unworthy of you. Now then if you rise not, you had best consider with yourself, that if you give not up your vow, and tempt me to let fly an arrow, how that Aila, grandchild of Soma, by one of these arrows just touched, as by a fanning of the wind, lost his reason and became a madman. And how the Rishi Vimala, practising austerities, hearing the sound of one of these darts, his heart possessed by great fear, bewildered and darkened he lost his true nature; how much less can you—a late-born one—hope to escape this dart of mine. Quickly arise then! if hardly you may get away! This arrow full of rankling poison, fearfully insidious where it strikes a foe! See now! with all my force, I point it! and are you resting in the face of such calamity? How is it that you fear not this dread arrow? say! why do you not tremble?" Mara uttered such fear-inspiring threats, bent on overawing Bodhisattva. But Bodhisattva's heart remained unmoved; no doubt, no fear was present. Then Mara instantly discharged his arrow, whilst the three women came in front. Bodhisattva regarded not the arrow, nor considered aught the women three. Mara raga now was troubled much with doubt, and muttered thus 'twixt heart and mouth: "Long since the maiden of the snowy mountains, shooting at Mahesvara, constrained him to change his mind; and yet Bodhisattva is unmoved, and heeds not even this dart of mine, nor the three heavenly women! nought prevails to move his heart or raise one spark of love within him. Now must I assemble my army-host, and press him sore by force;" having thought thus awhile, Mara's army suddenly assembled round. Each assumed his own peculiar form; some were holding spears, others grasping swords, others snatching up trees, others wielding diamond maces; armed with every sort of weapon. Some had heads like hogs, others like fishes, others like asses, others like horses; some with forms like snakes or like the ox or savage tiger; lion-headed, dragon-headed, and like every other kind of beast. Some had many heads on one body-trunk, with faces having but a single eye, and then again with many eyes; some with great-bellied mighty bodies. And others thin and skinny, belly-less; others long-legged, mighty-kneed; others big-shanked and fat-calved; some with long and claw-like nails. Some were headless, breastless, faceless; some with two feet and many bodies; some with big faces looking every way; some pale and ashy-colored; others colored like the bright star rising, others steaming fiery vapor, some with ears like elephants, with humps like mountains, some with naked forms covered with hair. Some with leather skins for clothing, their faces parti-colored, crimson, and white; some with tiger skins as robes, some with snake skins over them, some with tinkling bells around their waists, others with twisted screw-like hair, others with hair dishevelled covering the body, some breath-suckers, others body-snatchers, some dancing and shrieking awhile, some jumping onwards with their feet together, some striking one another as they went. Others waving in the air, others flying and leaping between the trees, others howling, or hooting, or screaming, or whining, with their evil noises shaking the great earth; thus this wicked goblin troop encircled on its four sides the Bodhi tree; some bent on tearing his body to pieces, others on devouring it whole; from the four sides flames belched forth, and fiery steam ascended up to heaven; tempestuous winds arose on every side; the mountain forests shook and quaked. Wind, fire, and steam, with dust combined, produced a pitchy darkness, rendering all invisible. And now the Devas well affected to the law, and all the Nagas and the spirits, all incensed at this host of Mara, with anger fired, wept tears of blood; the great company of Suddhavasa gods, beholding Mara tempting Bodhisattva, free from low-feeling, with hearts undisturbed by passion, moved by pity towards him and commiseration, came in a body to behold the Bodhisattva, so calmly seated and so undisturbed, surrounded with an uncounted host of devils, shaking the heaven and earth with sounds ill-omened. Bodhisattva silent and quiet in the midst remained, his countenance as bright as heretofore, unchanged; like the great lion-king placed amongst all the beasts howling and growling round him so he sat, a sight unseen before, so strange and wonderful! The host of Mara hastening, as arranged, each one exerting his utmost force, taking each other's place in turns, threatening every moment to destroy him. Fiercely staring, grinning with their teeth, flying tumultuously, bounding here and there; but Bodhisattva, silently beholding them, watched them as one would watch the games of children. And now the demon host waxed fiercer and more angry, and added force to force, in further conflict; grasping at stones they could not lift, or lifting them, they could not let them go. Their flying spears, lances, and javelins, stuck fast in space, refusing to descend; the angry thunderdrops and mighty hail, with these, were changed into five-colored lotus flowers, whilst the foul poison of the dragon snakes was turned to spicy-breathing air. Thus all these countless sorts of creatures, wishing to destroy the Bodhisattva, unable to remove him from the spot, were with their own weapons wounded. Now Mara had an aunt-attendant whose name was Ma-kia-ka-li, who held a skull-dish in her hands, and stood in front of Bodhisattva, and with every kind of winsome gesture, tempted to lust the Bodhisattva. So all these followers of Mara, possessed of every demon-body form, united in discordant uproar, hoping to terrify Bodhisattva; but not a hair of his was moved, and Mara's host was filled with sorrow. Then in the air the crowd of angels, their forms invisible, raised their voices, saying: "Behold the great Muni; his mind unmoved by any feeling of resentment, whilst all that wicked Mara race, besotted, are vainly bent on his destruction; let go your foul and murderous thoughts against that silent Muni, calmly seated! You cannot with a breath move the Sumeru mountain. Fire may freeze, water may burn, the roughened earth may grow soft and pliant, but ye cannot hurt the Bodhisattva! Through ages past disciplined by suffering. Bodhisattva rightly trained in thought, ever advancing in the use of 'means,' pure and illustrious for wisdom, loving and merciful to all. These four conspicuous virtues cannot with him be rent asunder, so as to make it hard or doubtful whether he gain the highest wisdom. For as the thousand rays of yonder sun must drown the darkness of the world, or as the boring wood must kindle fire, or as the earth deep-dug gives water, so he who perseveres in the 'right means,' by seeking thus, will find. The world without instruction, poisoned by lust and hate and ignorance; because he pitied 'flesh,' so circumstanced, he sought on their account the joy of wisdom. Why then would you molest and hinder one who seeks to banish sorrow from the world? The ignorance that everywhere prevails is due to false pernicious books, and therefore Bodhisattva, walking uprightly, would lead and draw men after him. To obscure and blind the great world-leader, this undertaking is impossible, for 'tis as though in the Great Desert a man would purposely mislead the merchant-guide. So 'all flesh' having fallen into darkness, ignorant of where they are going, for their sakes he would light the lamp of wisdom; say then! why would you extinguish it? All flesh engulfed and overwhelmed in the great sea of birth and death, this one prepares the boat of wisdom; say then! why destroy and sink it? Patience is the sprouting of religion, firmness its root, good conduct is the flower, the enlightened heart the boughs and branches. Wisdom supreme the entire tree, the 'transcendent law' the fruit, its shade protects all living things; say then! why would you cut it down? Lust, hate, and ignorance, are the rack and bolt, the yoke placed on the shoulder of the world; through ages long he has practised austerities to rescue men from these their fetters. He now shall certainly attain his end, sitting on this right-established throne; as all the previous Buddhas, firm and compact like a diamond. Though all the earth were moved and shaken, yet would this place be fixed and stable; him, thus fixed and well assured, think not that you can overturn. Bring down and moderate your mind's desire, banish these high and envious thoughts, prepare yourselves for right reflection, be patient in your services."

Mara hearing these sounds in space, and seeing Bodhisattva still unmoved, filled with fear and banishing his high and supercilious thoughts, again took up his way to heaven above. Whilst all his host were scattered, o'erwhelmed with grief and disappointment, fallen from their high estate, bereft of their warrior pride, their warlike weapons and accoutrements thrown heedlessly and cast away 'mid woods and deserts. Like as when some cruel chieftain slain, the hateful band is all dispersed and scattered, so the host of Mara disconcerted, fled away. The mind of Bodhisattva now reposed peaceful and quiet. The morning sunbeams brighten with the dawn, the dust-like mist dispersing, disappears; the moon and stars pale their faint light, the barriers of the night are all removed, whilst from above a fall of heavenly flowers pay their sweet tribute to the Bodhisattva.

O-wei-san-pou-ti (Abhisambodhi)

Bodhisattva having subdued Mara, his firmly fixed mind at rest, thoroughly exhausting the first principle of truth, he entered into deep and subtle contemplation. Every kind of Samadhi in order passed before his eyes. During the first watch he entered on "right perception" and in recollection all former births passed before his eyes. Born in such a place, of such a name, and downwards to his present birth, so through hundreds, thousands, myriads, all his births and deaths he knew. Countless in number were they, of every kind and sort; then knowing, too, his family relationships, great pity rose within his heart.

This sense of deep compassion passed, he once again considered "all that lives," and how they moved within the six portions of life's revolution, no final term to birth and death; hollow all, and false and transient as the plantain tree, or as a dream, or phantasy. Then in the middle watch of night, he reached to knowledge of the pure Devas, and beheld before him every creature, as one sees images upon a mirror; all creatures born and born again to die, noble and mean, the poor and rich, reaping the fruit of right or evil doing, and sharing happiness or misery in consequence. First he considered and distinguished evil-doers' works, that such must ever reap an evil birth. Then he considered those who practise righteous deeds, that these must gain a place with men or gods; but those again born in the nether hells, he saw participating in every kind of misery; swallowing molten brass, the iron skewers piercing their bodies, confined within the boiling caldron, driven and made to enter the fiery oven dwelling, food for hungry, long-toothed dogs, or preyed upon by brain-devouring birds; dismayed by fire, then they wander through thick woods, with leaves like razors gashing their limbs, while knives divide their writhing bodies, or hatchets lop their members, bit by bit; drinking the bitterest poisons, their fate yet holds them back from death. Thus those who found their joy in evil deeds, he saw receiving now their direst sorrow; a momentary taste of pleasure here, a dreary length of suffering there. A laugh or joke because of others' pain, a crying out and weeping now at punishment received. Surely if living creatures saw the consequence of all their evil deeds, self-visited, with hatred would they turn and leave them, fearing the ruin following—the blood and death. He saw, moreover, all the fruits of birth as beasts, each deed entailing its own return; and when death ensues born in some other form (beast shape), different in kind according to the deeds. Some doomed to die for the sake of skin or flesh, some for their horns or hair or bones or wings; others torn or killed in mutual conflict, friend or relative before, contending thus; some burdened with loads or dragging heavy weights, others pierced and urged on by pricking goads. Blood flowing down their tortured forms, parched and hungry—no relief afforded; then, turning round, he saw one with the other struggling, possessed of no independent strength. Flying through air or sunk in deep water, yet no place as a refuge left from death. He saw, moreover, those, misers and covetous, born now as hungry ghosts; vast bodies like the towering mountain, with mouths as small as any needle-tube, hungry and thirsty, nought but fire and poisoned flame to enwrap their burning forms within. Covetous, they would not give to those who sought, or duped the man who gave in charity, now born among the famished ghosts, they seek for food, but cannot find withal. The refuse of the unclean man they fain would eat, but this is changed and lost before it can be eaten. Oh! if a man believes that covetousness is thus repaid, as in their case, would he not give his very flesh in charity even as Sivi raga did! Then, once more he saw, those reborn as men, with bodies like some foul sewer, ever moving 'midst the direst sufferings, born from the womb to fear and trembling, with body tender, touching anything its feelings painful, as if cut with knives. Whilst born in this condition, no moment free from chance of death, labor, and sorrow, yet seeking birth again, and being born again, enduring pain. Then he saw those who by a higher merit were enjoying heaven; a thirst for love ever consuming them, their merit ended with the end of life, the five signs warning them of death. Just as the blossom that decays, withering away, is robbed of all its shining tints; not all their associates, living still, though grieving, can avail to save the rest. The palaces and joyous precincts empty now, the Devis all alone and desolate, sitting or asleep upon the dusty earth, weep bitterly in recollection of their loves. Those who are born, sad in decay; those who are dead, beloved, cause of grief; thus ever struggling on, preparing future pain, covetous they seek the joys of heaven, obtaining which, these sorrows come apace; despicable joys! oh, who would covet them! using such mighty efforts to obtain, and yet unable thence to banish pain. Alas, alas! these Devas, too, alike deceived—no difference is there! through lapse of ages bearing suffering, striving to crush desire and lust, now certainly expecting long reprieve, and yet once more destined to fall! in hell enduring every kind of pain, as beasts tearing and killing one the other, as Pretas parched with direst thirst, as men worn out, seeking enjoyment; although, they say, when born in heaven, "then we shall escape these greater ills." Deceived, alas! no single place exempt, in every birth incessant pain! Alas! the sea of birth and death revolving thus—an ever-whirling wheel—all flesh immersed within its waves cast here and there without reliance! thus with his pure Deva eyes he thoughtfully considered the five domains of life. He saw that all was empty and vain alike! with no dependence! like the plantain or the bubble. Then, on the third eventful watch, he entered on the deep, true apprehension; he meditated on the entire world of creatures, whirling in life's tangle, born to sorrow; the crowds who live, grow old, and die, innumerable for multitude. Covetous, lustful, ignorant, darkly-fettered, with no way known for final rescue. Rightly considering, inwardly he reflected from what source birth and death proceed. He was assured that age and death must come from birth as from a source. For since a man has born with him a body, that body must inherit pain. Then looking further whence comes birth, he saw it came from life-deeds done elsewhere; then with his Deva-eyes scanning these deeds, he saw they were not framed by Isvara. They were not self-caused, they were not personal existences, nor were they either uncaused; then, as one who breaks the first bamboo joint finds all the rest easy to separate, having discerned the cause of birth and death, he gradually came to see the truth; deeds come from upadana, like as fire which catches hold of grass; upadana comes from trishna, just as a little fire inflames the mountains; trishna comes from vedana, the perception of pain and pleasure, the desire for rest; as the starving or the thirsty man seeks food and drink, so "sensation" brings "desire" for life; then contact is the cause of all sensation, producing the three kinds of pain or pleasure, even as by art of man the rubbing wood produces fire for any use or purpose; contact is born from the six entrances.[103] The six entrances are caused by name and thing, just as the germ grows to the stem and leaf; name and thing are born from knowledge, as the seed which germinates and brings forth leaves. Knowledge, in turn, proceeds from name and thing, the two are intervolved leaving no remnant; by some concurrent cause knowledge engenders name and thing, whilst by some other cause concurrent, name and thing engender knowledge. Just as a man and ship advance together, the water and the land mutually involved; thus knowledge brings forth name and thing; name and thing produce the roots. The roots engender contact; contact again brings forth sensation; sensation brings forth longing desire; longing desire produces upadana. Upadana is the cause of deeds; and these again engender birth; birth again produces age and death; so does this one incessant round cause the existence of all living things. Rightly illumined, thoroughly perceiving this, firmly established, thus was he enlightened; destroy birth, old age and death will cease; destroy bhava then will birth cease; destroy "cleaving" then will bhava end; destroy desire then will cleaving end; destroy sensation then will trishna end. Destroy contact then will end sensation; destroy the six entrances, then will contact cease; the six entrances all destroyed, from this, moreover, names and things will cease. Knowledge destroyed, names and things will cease; names and things destroyed, then knowledge perishes; ignorance destroyed, then the constituents of individual life will die; the great Rishi was thus perfected in wisdom. Thus perfected, Buddha then devised for the world's benefit the eightfold path, right sight, and so on, the only true path for the world to tread. Thus did he complete the end of "self," as fire goes out for want of grass; thus he had done what he would have men do; he first had found the way of perfect knowledge. He finished thus the first great lesson; entering the great Rishi's house (dreamless sleep), the darkness disappeared; light coming on, perfectly silent, all at rest, he reached at last the exhaustless source of truth; lustrous with all wisdom the great Rishi sat, perfect in gifts, whilst one convulsive throe shook the wide earth. And now the world was calm again and bright, when Devas, Nagas, spirits, all assembled, amidst the void raise heavenly music, and make their offerings as the law directs. A gentle cooling breeze sprang up around, and from the sky a fragrant rain distilled; exquisite flowers, not seasonable, bloomed; sweet fruits before their time were ripened. Great Mandaras, and every sort of heavenly precious flower, from space in rich confusion fell, as tribute to the illustrious monk. Creatures of every different kind were moved one towards the other lovingly; fear and terror altogether put away, none entertained a hateful thought, and all things living in the world with faultless men consorted freely; the Devas giving up their heavenly joys, sought rather to alleviate the sinner's sufferings. Pain and distress grew less and less, the moon of wisdom waxed apace; whilst all the Rishis of the Ikshvaku clan who had received a heavenly birth, beholding Buddha thus benefitting men, were filled with joy and satisfaction; and whilst throughout the heavenly mansions religious offerings fell as raining flowers, the Devas and the Naga spirits, with one voice, praised the Buddha's virtues; men seeing the religious offerings, hearing, too, the joyous hymn of praise, were all rejoiced in turn; they leapt for unrestrained joy; Mara, the Devaraga, only, felt in his heart great anguish. Buddha for those seven days, in contemplation lost, his heart at peace, beheld and pondered on the Bodhi tree, with gaze unmoved and never wearying:—"Now resting here, in this condition, I have obtained," he said, "my ever-shifting heart's desire, and now at rest I stand, escaped from self." The eyes of Buddha then considered "all that lives," and forthwith rose there in him deep compassion; much he desired to bring about their welfare, but how to gain for them that most excellent deliverance, from covetous desire, hatred, ignorance, and false teaching, this was the question; how to suppress this sinful heart by right direction; not by anxious use of outward means, but by resting quietly in thoughtful silence. Now looking back and thinking of his mighty vow, there rose once more within his mind a wish to preach the law; and looking carefully throughout the world, he saw how pain and sorrow ripened and increased everywhere. Then Brahma-deva knowing his thoughts, and considering it right to request him to advance religion for the wider spread of the Brahma-glory, in the deliverance of all flesh from sorrow, coming, beheld upon the person of the reverend monk all the distinguishing marks of a great preacher, visible in an excellent degree; fixed and unmoved he sat in the possession of truth and wisdom, free from all evil impediments, with a heart cleansed from all insincerity or falsehood. Then with reverent and a joyful heart, great Brahma stood and with hands joined, thus made known his request:—"What happiness in all the world so great as when a loving master meets the unwise; the world with all its occupants, filled with impurity and dire confusion, with heavy grief oppressed, or, in some cases, lighter sorrows, waits deliverance; the lord of men, having escaped by crossing the wide and mournful sea of birth and death, we now entreat to rescue others—those struggling creatures all engulfed therein; as the just worldly man, when he gets profit, gives some rebate withal. So the lord of men enjoying such religious gain, should also give somewhat to living things. The world indeed is bent on large personal gain, and hard it is to share one's own with others. O! let your loving heart be moved with pity towards the world burdened with vexing cares." Thus having spoken by way of exhortation, with reverent mien he turned back to the Brahma heaven. Buddha, regarding the invitation of Brahma-deva, rejoiced at heart, and his design was strengthened; greatly was his heart of pity nourished, and purposed was his mind to preach. Thinking he ought to beg some food, each of the four kings offered him a Patra; Tathagata, in fealty to religion, received the four and joined them all in one. And now some merchant men were passing by, to whom "a virtuous friend," a heavenly spirit, said: "The great Rishi, the venerable monk, is dwelling in this mountain-grove, affording in the world a noble field for merit; go then and offer him a sacrifice!" Hearing the summons, joyfully they went, and offered the first meal religiously. Having partaken of it, then he deeply pondered, who first should hear the law; he thought at once of Arada Kalama and Udraka Ramaputra, as being fit to accept the righteous law; but now they both were dead. Then next he thought of the five men, that they were fit to hear the first sermon. Bent then on this design to preach Nirvana, as the sun's glory bursts through the darkness, so went he on towards Benares, the place where dwelt the ancient Rishis. With eyes as gentle as the ox king's, his pace as firm and even as the lion's, because he would convert the world he went on towards the Kasi city. Step by step, like the king of beasts, did he advance watchfully through the grove of wisdom.

Turning the Law-wheel

Tathagata piously composed and silent, radiant with glory, shedding light around, with unmatched dignity advanced alone, as if surrounded by a crowd of followers. Beside the way he encountered a young Brahman whose name was Upaka; struck with the deportment of the Bhikshu, he stood with reverent mien on the roadside. Joyously he gazed at such an unprecedented sight, and then, with closed hands, he spake as follows:—"The crowds who live around are stained with sin, without a pleasing feature, void of grace, and the great world's heart is everywhere disturbed; but you alone, your senses all composed, with visage shining as the moon when full, seem to have quaffed the water of the immortals' stream. The marks of beauty yours, as the great man's, the strength of wisdom, as an all-sufficient, independent king's; what you have done must have been wisely done: what then your noble tribe and who your master?" Answering he said, "I have no master; no honorable tribe; no point of excellence; self-taught in this profoundest doctrine, I have arrived at superhuman wisdom. That which behooves the world to learn, but through the world no learner found, I now myself and by myself have learned throughout; 'tis rightly called Sambodhi. That hateful family of griefs the sword of wisdom has destroyed; this then is what the world has named, and rightly named, the 'chiefest victory.' Through all Benares soon will sound the drum of life, no stay is possible—I have no name—nor do I seek profit or pleasure. But simply to declare the truth; to save men from pain, and to fulfil my ancient oath, to rescue all not yet delivered. The fruit of this my oath is ripened now, and I will follow out my ancient vow. Wealth, riches, self all given up, unnamed, I still am named 'Righteous Master.' And bringing profit to the world, I also have the name 'Great Teacher'; facing sorrows, not swallowed up by them, am I not rightly called 'Courageous Warrior?' If not a healer of diseases, what means the name of 'Good Physician?' Seeing the wanderer, not showing him the way, why then should I be called 'Good Master-guide?' Like as the lamp shines in the dark, without a purpose of its own, self-radiant, so burns the lamp of the Tathagata, without the shadow of a personal feeling. Bore wood in wood, there must be fire; the wind blows of its own free self in space; dig deep and you will come to water; this is the rule of self-causation. All the Munis who perfect wisdom, must do so at Gaya; and in the Kasi country they must first turn the Wheel of Righteousness." The young Brahman Upaka, astonished, breathed the praise of such strange doctrine, and called to mind like thoughts he had before experienced; lost in thought at the wonderful occurrence, at every turning of the road he stopped to think; embarrassed in every step he took, Tathagata proceeding slowly onwards, came to the city of Kasi. The land so excellently adorned as the palace of Sakradevendra; the Ganges and Barana, two twin rivers flowed amidst; the woods and flowers and fruits so verdant, the peaceful cattle wandering together, the calm retreats free from vulgar noise, such was the place where the old Rishis dwelt. Tathagata, glorious and radiant, redoubled the brightness of the place; the son of the Kaundinya tribe, and next Dasabalakasyapa, and the third Vashpa, the fourth Asvagit, the fifth called Bhadra, practising austerities as hermits, seeing from far Tathagata approaching, sitting together all engaged in conversation, said: "This Gautama, defiled by worldly indulgence, leaving the practice of austerities, now comes again to find us here, let us be careful not to rise in salutation, nor let us greet him when he comes, nor offer him the customary refreshments. Because he has broken his first vow, he has no claim to hospitality"—for men on seeing an approaching guest by rights prepare things for his present and his after wants. They arrange a proper resting-couch, and take on themselves care for his comfort. Having spoken thus and so agreed, each kept his seat, resolved and fixed. And now Tathagata slowly approached, when, lo! these men unconsciously, against their vow, rose and invited him to take a seat; offering to take his robe and Patra. They begged to wash and rub his feet, and asked him what he required more; thus in everything attentive, they honored him and offered all to him as teacher. They did not cease however to address him still as Gautama, after his family. Then spake the Lord to them and said: "Call me not after my private name, for it is a rude and careless way of speaking to one who has obtained Arhat-ship; but whether men respect or disrespect me, my mind is undisturbed and wholly quiet. But you—your way is not so courteous: let go, I pray, and cast away your fault. Buddha can save the world; they call him, therefore, Buddha. Towards all living things, with equal heart he looks as children, to call him then by his familiar name is to despise a father; this is sin." Thus Buddha, by exercise of mighty love, in deep compassion spoke to them; but they, from ignorance and pride, despised the only wise and true one's words. They said that first he practised self-denial, but having reached thereby no profit, now giving rein to body, word, and thought, how by these means, they asked, has he become a Buddha? Thus equally entangled by doubts, they would not credit that he had attained the way. Thoroughly versed in highest truth, full of all-embracing wisdom, Tagagata on their account briefly declared to them the one true way; the foolish masters practising austerities, and those who love to gratify their senses, he pointed out to them these two distinctive classes, and how both greatly erred. "Neither of these," he said, "has found the way of highest wisdom, nor are their ways of life productive of true rescue. The emaciated devotee by suffering produces in himself confused and sickly thoughts, not conducive even to worldly knowledge, how much less to triumph over sense! For he who tries to light a lamp with water, will not succeed in scattering the darkness, and so the man who tries with worn-out body to trim the lamp of wisdom shall not succeed, nor yet destroy his ignorance or folly. Who seeks with rotten wood to evoke the fire will waste his labor and get nothing for it; but boring hard wood into hard, the man of skill forthwith gets fire for his use. In seeking wisdom then it is not by these austerities a man may reach the law of life. But to indulge in pleasure is opposed to right: this is the fool's barrier against wisdom's light. The sensualist cannot comprehend the Sutras or the Sastras, how much less the way of overcoming all desire! As some man grievously afflicted eats food not fit to eat, and so in ignorance aggravates his sickness, so can he get rid of lust who pampers lust? Scatter the fire amid the desert grass, dried by the sun, fanned by the wind—the raging flames who shall extinguish? Such is the fire of covetousness and lust. I, then, reject both these extremes: my heart keeps in the middle way. All sorrow at an end and finished, I rest at peace, all error put away; my true sight greater than the glory of the sun, my equal and unvarying wisdom, vehicle of insight—right words as it were a dwelling-place—wandering through the pleasant groves of right conduct, making a right life my recreation, walking along the right road of proper means, my city of refuge in right recollection, and my sleeping couch right meditation; these are the eight even and level roads by which to avoid the sorrows of birth and death. Those who come forth by these means from the slough, doing thus, have attained the end; such shall fall neither on this side or the other, amidst the sorrow-crowd of the two periods. The tangled sorrow-web of the three worlds by this road alone can be destroyed; this is my own way, unheard of before; by the pure eyes of the true law, impartially seeing the way of escape, I, only I, now first make known this way; thus I destroy the hateful company of Trishna's host, the sorrows of birth and death, old age, disease, and all the unfruitful aims of men, and other springs of suffering. There are those who warring against desire are still influenced by desire; who whilst possessed of body, act as though they had none; who put away from themselves all sources of true merit—briefly will I recount their sorrowful lot. Like smothering a raging fire, though carefully put out, yet a spark left, so in their abstraction, still the germ of 'I,' the source of great sorrow still surviving, perpetuates the suffering caused by lust, and the evil consequences of every kind of deed survive. These are the sources of further pain, but let these go and sorrow dies, even as the seed of corn taken from the earth and deprived of water dies; the concurrent causes not uniting, then the bud and leaf cannot be born; the intricate bonds of every kind of existence, from the Deva down to the evil ways of birth, ever revolve and never cease; all this is produced from covetous desire; falling from a high estate to lower ones, all is the fault of previous deeds. But destroy the seed of covetousness and the rest, then there will be no intricate binding, but all effect of deeds destroyed, the various degrees of sorrow then will end for good. Having this, then, we must inherit that; destroying this, then that is ended too; no birth, old age, disease, or death; no earth, or water, fire, or wind. No beginning, end, or middle; and no deceptive systems of philosophy; this is the standpoint of wise men and sages; the certain and exhausted termination, complete Nirvana. Such do the eight right ways declare; this one expedient has no remains; that which the world sees not, engrossed by error I declare, I know the way to sever all these sorrow-sources; the way to end them is by right reason, meditating on these four highest truths, following and perfecting this highest wisdom. This is what means the 'knowing' sorrow; this is to cut off the cause of all remains of being; these destroyed, then all striving, too, has ended, the eight right ways have been assayed.

"Thus, too, the four great truths have been acquired, the eyes of the pure law completed. In these four truths, the equal, true or right, eyes not yet born, there is not mention made of gaining true deliverance; it is not said what must be done is done, nor that all is finished, nor that the perfect truth has been acquired. But now because the truth is known, then by myself is known 'deliverance gained,' by myself is known that 'all is done,' by myself is known 'the highest wisdom.'" And having spoken thus respecting truth, the member of the Kaundinya family, and eighty thousand of the Deva host, were thoroughly imbued with saving knowledge. They put away defilement from themselves, they got the eyes of the pure law; Devas and earthly masters thus were sure, that what was to be done was done. And now with lion-voice he joyfully inquired, and asked Kaundinya, "Knowest thou yet?" Kaundinya forthwith answered Buddha, "I know the mighty master's law." And for this reason, knowing it, his name was Agnata Kaundinya. Amongst all the disciples of Buddha, he was the very first in understanding. Then as he understood the sounds of the true law, hearing the words of the disciple—all the earth spirits together raised a shout triumphant, "Well done! deeply seeing the principles of the law, Tathagata, on this auspicious day, has set revolving that which never yet revolved, and far and wide, for gods and men, has opened the gates of immortality. Of this wheel the spokes are the rules of pure conduct; equal contemplation, their uniformity of length; firm wisdom is the tire; modesty and thoughtfulness, the rubbers (sockets in the nave in which the axle is fixed); right reflection is the nave; the wheel itself the law of perfect truth; the right truth now has gone forth in the world, not to retire before another teacher."