Sacred Books of the East

Then like a captive warrior is drawn before the king his master, so did he enter the gates with tears, his eyes filled so that he said nought. Then looking up to heaven he loudly groaned; and the white horse too whined piteously; then all the varied birds and beasts in the palace court, and all the horses within the stables, hearing the sad whinnying of the royal steed, replied in answer to him, thinking "now the prince has come back." But seeing him not, they ceased their cries!

And now the women of the after-palace, hearing the cries of the horses, birds, and beasts, their hair dishevelled, their faces wan and yellow, their forms sickly to look at, their mouths and lips parched, their garments torn and unwashed, the soil and heat not cleansed from their bodies, their ornaments all thrown aside, disconsolate and sad, cheerless in face, raised their bodies, without any grace, even as the feeble little morning star; their garments torn and knotted, soiled like the appearance of a robber, seeing Kandaka and the royal horse shedding tears instead of the hoped-for return, they all, assembled thus, uttered their cry, even as those who weep for one beloved just dead. Confused and wildly they rushed about, as a herd of oxen that have lost their way.

Mahâpragâpati Gotamî, hearing that the prince had not returned, fell fainting on the ground, her limbs entirely deprived of strength, even as some mad tornado wind crushes the golden-colored plantain tree; and again, hearing that her son had become a recluse, deeply sighing and with increased sadness she thought, "Alas! those glossy locks turning to the right, each hair produced from each orifice, dark and pure, gracefully shining, sweeping the earth when loose,[98 - 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.] or when so determined, bound together in a heavenly crown, and now shorn and lying in the grass! Those rounded shoulders and that lion step! Those eyes broad as the ox-king's, that body shining bright as yellow gold; that square breast and Brahma voice; that you! possessing all these excellent qualities, should have entered on the sorrow-giving forest; what fortune now remains for the world, losing thus the holy king of earth? That those delicate and pliant feet, pure as the lily and of the same color, should now be torn by stones and thorns; O how can such feet tread on such ground! Born and nourished in the guarded palace, clad with garments of the finest texture, washed in richly scented water, anointed with the choicest perfumes, and now exposed to chilling blasts and dews of night, O! where during the heat or the chilly morn can rest be found! Thou flower of all thy race! Confessed by all the most renowned! Thy virtuous qualities everywhere talked of and exalted, ever reverenced, without self-seeking! why hast thou unexpectedly brought thyself upon some morn to beg thy food for life! Thou who wert wont to repose upon a soft and kingly couch, and indulge in every pleasure during thy waking hours: how canst thou endure the mountain and the forest wilds, on the bare grass to make thyself a resting-place!"

Thus thinking of her son—her heart was full of sorrow, disconsolate she lay upon the earth. The waiting women raised her up, and dried the tears from off her face, whilst all the other courtly ladies, overpowered with grief, their limbs relaxed, their minds bound fast with woe, unmoved they sat like pictured-folk.

And now Yasodharâ, deeply chiding, spoke thus to Kandaka: "Where now dwells he, who ever dwells within my mind? You two went forth, the horse a third, but now two only have returned! My heart is utterly o'erborne with grief, filled with anxious thoughts, it cannot rest. And you, deceitful man! Untrustworthy and false associate! evil contriver! plainly revealed a traitor, a smile lurks underneath thy tears! Escorting him in going; returning now with wails! Not one at heart—but in league against him—openly constituted a friend and well-wisher, concealing underneath a treacherous purpose; so thou hast caused the sacred prince to go forth once and not return again! No questioning the joy you feel! Having done ill you now enjoy the fruit; better far to dwell with an enemy of wisdom, than work with one who, while a fool, professes friendship. Openly professing sweetness and light, inwardly a scheming and destructive enemy. And now this royal and kingly house, in one short morn is crushed and ruined! All these fair and queen-like women, with grief o'erwhelmed, their beauty marred, their breathing choked with tears and sobs, their faces soiled with crossing tracks of grief! Even the queen (Mâyâ) when in life, resting herself on him, as the great snowy mountains repose upon the widening earth, through grief in thought of what would happen, died. How sad the lot of these—within these open lattices—these weeping ones, these deeply wailing! Born in another state than hers in heaven, how can their grief be borne!" Then speaking to the horse she said, "Thou unjust! what dulness this—to carry off a man, as in the darkness some wicked thief bears off a precious gem. When riding thee in time of battle, swords, and javelins and arrows, none of these alarmed or frighted thee! But now what fitfulness of temper this, to carry off by violence, to rob my soul of one, the choicest jewel of his tribe. O! thou art but a vicious reptile, to do such wickedness as this! to-day thy woeful lamentation sounds everywhere within these palace walls, but when you stole away my cherished one, why wert thou dumb and silent then! if then thy voice had sounded loud, and roused the palace inmates from their sleep, if then they had awoke and slumbered not, there would not have ensued the present sorrow."

Kandaka, hearing these sorrowful words, drawing in his breath and composing himself, wiping away his tears, with hands clasped together, answered: "Listen to me, I pray, in self-justification—be not suspicious of, nor blame the royal horse, nor be thou angry with me, either. For in truth no fault has been committed by us. It is the gods who have effected this. For I, indeed, extremely reverenced the king's command, it was the gods who drove him to the solitudes, urgently leading on the horse with him: thus they went together fleet as with wings, his breathing hushed! suppressed was every sound, his feet scarce touched the earth! The city gates wide opening of themselves! all space self-lighted! this was the work indeed of the gods; and what was I, or what my strength, compared with theirs?"

Yasodharâ hearing these words, her heart was lost in deep consideration! the deeds accomplished by the gods could not be laid to others' charge, as faults; and so she ceased her angry chiding, and allowed her great consuming grief to smoulder. Thus prostrate on the ground she muttered out her sad complaints, "That the two doves should be divided! Now," she cried, "my stay and my support is lost, between those once agreed in life, separation has sprung up! those who were at one as to religion are now divided! where shall I seek another mode of life? In olden days the former conquerors greatly rejoiced to see their kingly retinue; these with their wives in company, in search of highest wisdom, roamed through groves and plains. And now, that he should have deserted me! and what is the religious state he seeks! the Brahman ritual respecting sacrifice, requires the wife to take part in the offering, and because they both share in the service they shall both receive a common reward hereafter! but you O prince! art niggard in your religious rites, driving me away, and wandering forth alone! Is it that you saw me jealous, and so turned against me! that you now seek someone free from jealousy! or did you see some other cause to hate me, that you now seek to find a heaven-born nymph! But why should one excelling in every personal grace seek to practise self-denying austerities! is it that you despise a common lot with me, that variance rises in your breast against your wife! Why does not Râhula fondly repose upon your knee. Alas! alas! unlucky master! full of grace without, but hard at heart! The glory and the pride of all your tribe, yet hating those who reverence you! O! can it be, you have turned your back for good upon your little child, scarce able yet to smile! My heart is gone! and all my strength! my lord has fled, to wander in the mountains! he cannot surely thus forget me! he is then but a man of wood or stone." Thus having spoken, her mind was dulled and darkened, she muttered on, or spoke in wild mad words, or fancied that she saw strange sights, and sobbing past the power of self-restraint, her breath grew less, and sinking thus, she fell asleep upon the dusty ground! The palace ladies seeing this, were wrung with heartfelt sorrow, just as the full-blown lily, struck by the wind and hail, is broken down and withered.

And now the king, his father, having lost the prince, was filled, both night and day, with grief; and fasting, sought the gods for help. He prayed that they would soon restore him, and having prayed and finished sacrifice, he went from out the sacred gates; then hearing all the cries and sounds of mourning, his mind distressed became confused, as when heaven's thundering and lightning put to bewildering flight a herd of elephants. Then seeing Kandaka with the royal steed, after long questioning, finding his son a hermit, fainting he fell upon the earth, as when the flag of Indra falls and breaks. Then all the ministers of state, upraising him, exhort him, as was right, to calm himself. After awhile, his mind somewhat recovered, speaking to the royal steed, he said: "How often have I ridden thee to battle, and every time have thought upon your excellence! but now I hate and loathe thee, more than ever I have loved or praised thee! My son, renowned for noble qualities, thou hast carried off and taken from me; and left him 'mid the mountain forests; and now you have come back alone; take me, then, quickly hence and go! And going, never more come back with me! For since you have not brought him back, my life is worth no more preserving; no longer care I about governing! My son about me was my only joy; as the Brahman Gayanta met death for his son's sake, so I, deprived of my religious son, will of myself deprive myself of life. So Manu, lord of all that lives, ever lamented for his son; how much more I, a mortal man deprived of mine, must lose all rest! In old time the king Aga, loving his son, wandering through the mountains, lost in thought, ended life, and forthwith was born in heaven. And now I cannot die! Through the long night fixed in this sad state, with this great palace round me, thinking of my son, solitary and athirst as any hungry spirit; as one who, thirsty, holding water in his hand, but when he tries to drink lets all escape, and so remains athirst till death ensues, and after death becomes a wandering ghost; so I, in the extremity of thirst, through loss, possessed once of a son, but now without a son, still live and cannot end my days! But come! tell me at once where is my son! let me not die athirst for want of knowing this and fall among the Pretas. In former days, at least, my will was strong and firm, difficult to move as the great earth; but now I've lost my son, my mind is dazed, as was in old time the king Dasaratha's."

And now the royal teacher (Purohita), an illustrious sage, with the chief minister, famed for wisdom, with earnest and considerate minds, both exhorted with remonstrances, the king. "Pray you (they said) arouse yourself to thought, and let not grief cramp and hold your mind! in olden days there were mighty kings, who left their country, as flowers are scattered; your son now practises the way of wisdom; why then nurse your grief and misery; you should recall the prophecy of Asita, and reasonably count on what was probable! Think of the heavenly joys which you, a universal king, have inherited! But now, so troubled and constrained in mind, how will it not be said, 'The Lord of earth can change his golden-jewel-heart!' Now, therefore, send us forth, and bid us seek the place he occupies, then by some stratagem and strong remonstrances, and showing him our earnestness of purpose, we will break down his resolution, and thus assuage your kingly sorrow."

The king, with joy, replied and said: "Would that you both would go in haste, as swiftly as the Saketa bird flies through the void for her young's sake; thinking of nought but the royal prince, and sad at heart—I shall await your search!"

The two men having received their orders, the king retired among his kinsfolk, his heart somewhat more tranquillized, and breathing freely through his throat.

The Mission to Seek the Prince

The king now suppressing his grief, urged on his great teacher and chief minister, as one urges on with whip a ready horse, to hasten onwards as the rapid stream; whilst they fatigued, yet with unflagging effort, come to the place of the sorrow-giving grove; then laying on one side the five outward marks of dignity and regulating well their outward gestures, they entered the Brahmans' quiet hermitage, and paid reverence to the Rishis. They, on their part, begged them to be seated, and repeated the law for their peace and comfort.

Then forthwith they addressed the Rishis and said: "We have on our minds a subject on which we would ask for advice. There is one who is called Suddhodana râga, a descendant of the famous Ikshvâku family, we are his teacher and his minister, who instruct him in the sacred books as required. The king indeed is like Indra for dignity; his son, like Ke-yan-to, in order to escape old age, disease, and death, has become a hermit, and depends on this; on his account have we come hither, with a view to let your worships know of this."

Replying, they said: "With respect to this youth, has he long arms and the signs of a great man? Surely he is the one who, inquiring into our practice, discoursed so freely on the matter of life and death. He has gone to the abode of Arâda, to seek for a complete mode of escape."

Having received this certain information, respectfully considering the urgent commands of the anxious king, they dared not hesitate in their undertaking, but straightway took the road and hastened on. Then seeing the wood in which the royal prince dwelt, and him, deprived of all outward marks of dignity, his body still glorious with lustrous shining, as when the sun comes forth from the black cloud; then the religious teacher of the country and the great minister holding to the true law, put off from them their courtly dress, and descending from the chariot gradually advanced, like the royal Po-ma-ti and the Rishi Vasishtha, went through the woods and forests, and seeing the royal prince Râma, each according to his own prescribed manner, paid him reverence, as he advanced to salute him; or as Sukra, in company with Angiras, with earnest heart paid reverence, and sacrificed to Indra râga.

Then the royal prince in return paid reverence to the royal teacher and the great minister, as the divine Indra placed at their ease Sukra and Angiras; then, at his command, the two men seated themselves before the prince, as Pou-na and Pushya, the twin stars attend beside the moon; then the Purohita and the great minister respectfully explained to the royal prince, even as Pi-li-po-ti spoke to that Gayanta: "Your royal father, thinking of the prince, is pierced in heart, as with an iron point; his mind distracted, raves in solitude; he sleeps upon the dusty ground; by night and day he adds to his sorrowful reflections; his tears flow down like the incessant rain; and now to seek you out, he has sent us hither. Would that you would listen with attentive mind; we know that you delight to act religiously; it is certain, then, without a doubt, this is not the time for you to enter the forest wilds; a feeling of deep pity consumes our heart! You, if you be indeed moved by religion, ought to feel some pity for our case; let your kindly feelings flow abroad, to comfort us who are worn at heart; let not the tide of sorrow and of sadness completely overwhelm the outlets of our heart; as the torrents which roll down the grassy mountains; or the calamities of tempest, fiery heat, and lightning; for so the grieving heart has these four sorrows, turmoil and drought, passion and overthrow. But come! return to your native place, the time will arrive when you can go forth again as a recluse. But now to disregard your family duties, to turn against father and mother, how can this be called love and affection? that love which overshadows and embraces all. Religion requires not the wild solitudes; you can practise a hermit's duties in your home; studiously thoughtful, diligent in expedients, this is to lead a hermit's life in truth. A shaven head, and garments soiled with dirt—to wander by yourself through desert wilds—this is but to encourage constant fears, and cannot be rightly called 'an awakened hermit's life.' Would rather we might take you by the hand, and sprinkle water on your head, and crown you with a heavenly diadem, and place you underneath a flowery canopy, that all eyes might gaze with eagerness upon you; after this, in truth, we would leave our home with joy. The former kings, Teou-lau-ma, A-neou-ke-o-sa, Po-ke-lo-po-yau, Pi-po-lo-'anti, Pi-ti-o-ke-na, Na-lo-sha-po-lo, all these several kings refused not the royal crown, the jewels, and the ornaments of person; their hands and feet were adorned with gems, around them were women to delight and please, these things they cast not from them, for the sake of escape; you then may also come back home, and undertake both necessary duties; your mind prepare itself in higher law, whilst for the sake of earth you wield the sceptre; let there be no more weeping, but comply with what we say, and let us publish it; and having published it with your authority, then you may return and receive respectful welcome. Your father and your mother, for your sake, in grief shed tears like the great ocean; having no stay and no dependence now—no source from which the Sâkya stem may grow—you ought, like the captain of the ship, to bring it safely across to a place of safety. The royal prince Pi-san-ma, as also Lo-me-po-ti, they respectfully attended to the command of their father: you also should do the same! Your loving mother who cherished you so kindly, with no regard for self, through years of care, as the cow deprived of her calf, weeps and laments, forgetting to eat or sleep; you surely ought to return to her at once, to protect her life from evil; as a solitary bird, away from its fellows, or as the lonely elephant, wandering through the jungle, losing the care of their young, ever think of protecting and defending them, so you the only child, young and defenceless, not knowing what you do, bring trouble and solicitude; cause, then, this sorrow to dissipate itself; as one who rescues the moon from being devoured, so do you reassure the men and women of the land, and remove from them the consuming grief, and suppress the sighs that rise like breath to heaven, which cause the darkness that obscures their sight; seeking you, as water, to quench the fire; the fire quenched, their eyes shall open."

Bodhisattva, hearing of his father the king, experienced the greatest distress of mind, and sitting still, gave himself to reflection; and then, in due course, replied respectfully: "I know indeed that my royal father is possessed of a loving and deeply considerate mind, but my fear of birth, old age, disease, and death, has led me to disobey, and disregard his extreme kindness. Whoever neglects right consideration about his present life, and because he hopes to escape in the end, therefore disregards all precautions in the present: on this man comes the inevitable doom of death. It is the knowledge of this, therefore, that weighs with me, and after long delay has constrained me to a hermit's life; hearing of my father, the king, and his grief, my heart is affected with increased love; but yet, all is like the fancy of a dream, quickly reverting to nothingness. Know then, without fear of contradiction, that the nature of existing things is not uniform; the cause of sorrow is not necessarily the relationship of child with parent, but that which produces the pain of separation, results from the influence of delusion; as men going along a road suddenly meet midway with others, and then a moment more are separated, each one going his own way, so by the force of concomitance, relationships are framed, and then, according to each one's destiny, there is separation; he who thoroughly investigates this false connection of relationship ought not to cherish in himself grief; in this world there is rupture of family love, in another life it is sought for again; brought together for a moment, again rudely divided, everywhere the fetters of kindred are formed! Ever being bound, and ever being loosened! who can sufficiently lament such constant separations; born into the world, and then gradually changing, constantly separated by death and then born again. All things which exist in time must perish; the forests and mountains, all things that exist; in time are born all sensuous things, so is it both with worldly substance and with time. Because, then, death pervades all time, get rid of death, and time will disappear. You desire to make me king, and it is difficult to resist the offices of love; but as a disease is difficult to bear without medicine, so neither can I bear this weight of dignity; in every condition, high or low, we find folly and ignorance, and men carelessly following the dictates of lustful passion; at last, we come to live in constant fear; thinking anxiously of the outward form, the spirit droops; following the ways of men, the mind resists the right; but, the conduct of the wise is not so. The sumptuously ornamented and splendid palace I look upon as filled with fire; the hundred dainty dishes of the divine kitchen, as mingled with destructive poisons; the lily growing on the tranquil lake, in its midst harbors countless noisome insects; and so the towering abode of the rich is the house of calamity; the wise will not dwell therein. In former times illustrious kings, seeing the many crimes of their home and country, affecting as with poison the dwellers therein, in sorrowful disgust sought comfort in seclusion; we know, therefore, that the troubles of a royal estate are not to be compared with the repose of a religious life; far better dwell in the wild mountains, and eat the herbs like the beasts of the field; therefore I dare not dwell in the wide palace, for the black snake has its dwelling there. I reject the kingly estate and the five desires; to escape such sorrows I wander through the mountain wilds. This, then, would be the consequence of compliance: that I, who, delighting in religion, am gradually getting wisdom, should now quit these quiet woods, and returning home, partake of sensual pleasures, and thus by night and day increase my store of misery. Surely this is not what should be done! that the great leader of an illustrious tribe, having left his home from love of religion, and forever turned his back upon tribal honor, desiring to confirm his purpose as a leader—that he—discarding outward form, clad in religious garb, loving religious meditation, wandering through the wilds—should now reject his hermit vestment, tread down his sense of proper shame and give up his aim. This, though I gained heaven's kingly state, cannot be done! how much less to gain an earthly, though distinguished, home!

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

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

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

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

CHAPTER III

Bimbisâra Raga Invites the Prince

The royal prince, departing from the court-master (i.e. the Purohita) and the great minister, Saddharma, keeping along the stream, then crossing the Ganges, he took the road towards the Vulture Peak,[99 - Footnote 99:The distance from the place of the interview with the ministers to the Vulture Peak would be, in a straight line, about 150 miles.] hidden among the five mountains, standing alone a lovely peak as a roof amid the others. The trees and shrubs and flowers in bloom, the flowing fountains, and the cooling rills; all these he gazed upon—then passing on, he entered the city of the five peaks, calm and peaceful, as one come down from heaven. The country folk, seeing the royal prince, his comeliness and his excessive grace, though young in years, yet glorious in his person, incomparable as the appearance of a great master, seeing him thus, strange thoughts affected them, as if they gazed upon the banner of Isvara. They stayed the foot, who passed athwart the path; those hastened on, who were behind; those going before, turned back their heads and gazed with earnest, wistful look. The marks and distinguishing points of his person, on these they fixed their eyes without fatigue, and then approached with reverent homage, joining both their hands in salutation. With all there was a sense of wondrous joy, as in their several ways they offered what they had, looking at his noble and illustrious features; bending down their bodies modestly, correcting every careless or unseemly gesture, thus they showed their reverence to him silently; those who with anxious heart, seeking release, were moved by love, with feelings composed, bowed down the more. Great men and women, in their several engagements, at the same time arrested on their way, paid to his person and his presence homage: and following him as they gazed, they went not back. For the white circle between his eyebrows adorning his wide and violet-colored eyes, his noble body bright as gold, his pure and web-joined fingers, all these, though he were but a hermit, were marks of one who was a holy king; and now the men and women of Râgagriha, the old and young alike, were moved, and cried, "This man so noble as a recluse, what common joy is this for us!" At this time Bimbisâra Râga, placed upon a high tower of observation, seeing all those men and women, in different ways exhibiting one mark of surprise, calling before him some man outside, inquired at once the cause of it; this one bending his knee below the tower, told fully what he had seen and heard, "That one of the Sâkya race, renowned of old, a prince most excellent and wonderful, divinely wise, beyond the way of this world, a fitting king to rule the eight regions, now without home, is here, and all men are paying homage to him."

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

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

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

The Reply to Bimbasâra Râga

Bimbasâra Râga, 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 Râma 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. Sün-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 râga! 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 - Footnote 100:The sense of the text and context appears to be this, that as there are those who drink the rain-clouds and yet are parched with thirst, so there are those who constantly practise religious duties and yet are still unblest.] 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 Ârâda Kâlâma 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 Râgagriha!

Visit to Ârâda Udrarâma

The child of the glorious sun of the Ikshvâku race, going to that quiet peaceful grove, reverently stood before the Muni, the great Rishi Ârâda Râma; the dark-clad followers of the Kalam (Sanghârâma) 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 Brahmakârins 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 Sâstras 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 Vâkaspati, 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 Ârâda: "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 Ârâda, according to the Sutras and Sâstras, 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 Sûtras and Sâstras; 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 dhyâna.[101 - The dhyânas are the conditions of ecstasy, enjoyed by the inhabitants of the Brahmaloka heavens.] Having obtained this first dhyâna, 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 dhyâna, 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 dhyâna, 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 dhyâna, all joys and sorrows done away, the thought of escape produced; we dwell in this fourth dhyâna, 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 dhyâna, 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 Muñga (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 Gaigîshavya, Ganaka, Vriddha Parâsara, 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 gunî (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 gunî. 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 Ârâda 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 Nairañgana 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 (dhyâna); 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 Nairañgana 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 Nandâ. One of the Suddhavâsa Devas addressing her said, "Bodhisattva dwells in the grove, go you then, and present to him a religious offering."

Nandâ 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 - The "fortunate tree," the tree "of good omen," the Bodhi tree.] 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, Kâla nâga 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 Nâga; nor shall he rise again from off his seat till he has completed his undertaking." And so he (the Nâga) uttered these words by way of confirmation. The heavenly Nâgas, 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, Nâgas, and the heavenly multitude, all were filled with joy; but Mâra Devarâga, 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 Mâra râga 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."