FOOTNOTES
[1] I have, except on one occasion, always made use of the terms meditation and contemplation to express the inward working of Buddha's mind during the forty-nine days he spent at the foot of the banyan tree. But the Burmese translator most commonly employs a much stronger expression, conveying the idea of trance and ecstasy. Hence after having remained seven days on the same spot, deeply engaged in considering some parts of the law he was soon to preach, it is said of him that he comes out from a state of perfect ecstasy. This expression implies a state of complete mental abstraction, when the soul, disentangled from the trammels of sense, raises itself above this material world, contemplates pure truth and delights in it. All her faculties are taken up with the beauty and perfection of truth; she clings to it with all her might, regardless of all the illusions this world is filled with. This situation of the soul is much esteemed by all fervent Buddhists. It is the lot of but a few privileged Rahans, who have made great progress in perfection, and obtained an almost entire mastery over their passions and senses. This great gift is, as one may well imagine, ardently coveted by many, who, though not possessing it, lay claim to it on false pretences. This being a sin devotees who relish a contemplative life are very liable to, which the framer of the regulations of the Buddhist monks has pronounced as ipso facto excluding from the society all those who would falsely claim the possession of uncommon spiritual attainments which they have not. In the book of ordination used for the admission of candidates to the order of Rahans or talapoins, this sin is the last of the four offences which deprive a member of the order of his dignity, and cause his expulsion from the society.
[2] The five Rahans alluded to are the very same individuals who met Phralaong in the solitude at the time he was undergoing a great fast and performing all sorts of works of self-denial and corporal austerities in the most rigorous manner. During all the time he spent in those hard exercises of strict mortification, to conquer his passions and secure the complete triumph of the mind over the senses, he was assisted in all his wants by those five Rahans, who rendered to him the usual services disciples are wont to perform to their teacher. When they saw Phralaong at the end of his mighty efforts in that great struggle resuming the habits of a mendicant, they left him at once, unwilling to believe that he would ever become a Buddha. Our Phra, not unmindful of the good services he had received from them, resolved to impart first to them the blessings of his preachings. Alara and Oodaka, his two first teachers in the science of Dzan, were destined to be the first who would have heard the good news had they not been dead. Gratitude seems to have been the first and main motive that induced him to select as the first objects of his mission the very same persons who had been instrumental in furthering his efforts to acquire the Buddhaship.
The unpleasant epithet of heretic is given to those five Rahans, as well as to another named Upaka, as designed to mean that they held tenets at variance with those of Buddha, and refused to acknowledge him as possessed of the perfect intelligence. Buddhists, in their writings, invariably call their opponents by the name of holders of false doctrines. The Brahmins or Pounhas who refused to seek refuge in Buddha, his law, and the assembly of his disciples, are spoken of as professors of heterodoxical doctrines.
From the narrative of this Legend we may conclude, with a probability amounting almost to certitude, that Buddha in his preachings addressed himself first to the Brahmins, as being by their caste the most influential portion of the Hindu community. Those that are called by the name of Pounhas are the Brahmins living in the world and following the ordinary pursuits of life. Those that are mentioned by the names of Rahans and Rathees are probably Brahmins, or at least belong to some other distinguished caste like that of the Kchatrias, but are members of some religious order or ascetics. They were in those days men whom, in imitation of the ancient Greeks, we may call philosophers, and who belonged to one or other of the branches into which the great Indian school was divided. We may conjecture that at that time India exhibited a scene much resembling that which Greece subsequently offered to the eyes of the observer in the days of Socrates and Plato, when schools of philosophy were to be met with in every direction. The Hindu philosophers, favoured by climate and their ardent imagination, carried much further than the Greek wise men, both in theory and practice, the discussion of dogmas and the fervour of religious practices. If credit is to be given to our Legend in a historical point of view, we may safely conclude that such was the state of India when Buddha began his preachings. His first hearers were Rahans, Rathees, and Pounhas, that is to say, the most learned and wisest men in those days. The latter in particular seemed at first disinclined to offer opposition to Buddha; they listened to him as to a distinguished philosopher; his arguments were examined, discussed, and answered by them in the best way they could. In that polemical warfare, arguments were at first the only offensive and defensive weapons used and handled by the combatants on both sides. Buddha's two favourite doctrines of Atheism and Neibban, which established the two broad lines of separation between the two systems, begat much discussion and created some animosity between him and his adversaries. But what widened the gap between the two parties, and placed them in a hostile array against each other, was the broad principle of equality amongst men, latent in the bosom of Buddha's doctrines, and levelled at the distinction of castes. Buddha preached to men of all conditions without exception; he opened before all the ways that lead to Neibban; made no distinction between man and man, except that which is drawn by virtue and vice, merits and demerits. He allowed every one to approach him and take rank among his disciples; faith in his doctrine entitled any man to be numbered amidst his followers; the entrance into the order of Rahans or perfect was open to all those who, by their meritorious actions and renouncing the world, qualified themselves for this dignity. This principle, which put on a footing of equality men of all castes and nations, and recognised no real superiority but that which is conferred by virtue and merit, could not prove agreeable to the proud Brahmins. It provoked, by its gradual development, the animosity of the opponents of Buddha's doctrines. The battle of arguments, after having raged with various success, was afterwards converted into one of a bloody character, which ended in the total extermination or expulsion of the Buddhists from the Indian peninsula.
[3] The mission of Buddha is not, as previously observed, confined to men living on earth, but it extends its beneficial action over all the beings inhabiting the six seats of Nats and sixteen of Brahmas. Those beings, the latter in particular, are much advanced in perfection, but they are not yet ripe for the sublime state of Neibban. Though freed, at least the Brahmas, from the influence of passions, they retain as yet some inclination for matter; they want the help of a Buddha to break at once the few slender ties that retain them in the state of existence.
The first preaching of Buddha was rewarded with the conversion of five Rahans, and of a countless number of Nats and Brahmas. Such a plentiful harvest he could scarcely anticipate to reap; and the beginning of his career, attended with such wonderful success, amply repaid him for the extraordinary exertions he made in order to qualify himself for the Buddhaship. The author of the Legend remarks, with an unfeigned pleasure, that owing to the conversion of the five Rahans, the worlds witnessed the beautiful sight of six Rahandas congregated on the same spot. The Rahanda has attained the summit of perfection; he has arrived at the last existence; his death will relieve him from the burden of existence, and open to him the way leading to perfect rest, to complete abstraction—in a word, to Neibban. The Rahandas rank first among the disciples and hearers of Buddha; they constitute the élite of his followers, and form the most distinguished portion of the assembly or congregation of the perfect. We have already stated that the members composing the assembly of the hearers were divided into distinct sections, and formed different degrees, according to the difference of their respective progress on the way of perfection.
[4] It may be interesting to give an abridgment of an instruction or sermon delivered by Gaudama to a Nat. It will be as a fair specimen of other similar performances. The Nat made his appearance at nightfall, and respectfully entreated Buddha to deliver certain instructions which would enable men to come to the understanding of many points of the law on which they had hitherto fruitlessly meditated. Buddha was then in the monastery of Dzetawon, in the country of Thawattie. This sermon is supposed to have been repeated by Ananda, who had heard it from the mouth of Buddha himself. It is, according to the Burmese, the most excellent sermon; it contains thirty-eight points.
"Young Nat," said Buddha, "here are the most excellent things men and Nats ought to attend to, in order to capacitate themselves for the state of Neibban: to shun the company of the foolish; to be always with the wise; to proffer homage to those that are deserving of it; to remain in a place becoming one's condition; to have always with one's self the influence of former good works; steadily to maintain a perfect behaviour; to be delighted to hear and see much, in order to increase knowledge; to study all that is not sinful; to apply one's self to acquire the knowledge of Wini. Let every one's conversation be regulated by righteous principles; let every one minister to the wants of his father and mother; provide all the necessaries for his wife and children; perform no action under the evil influence of temptation; bestow alms; observe the precepts of the law; assist one's relatives and friends; perform no actions but such as are exempt from sin; be ever diligent in such avoiding, and abstain from intoxicating drink. Let no one be remiss in the practice of the law of merits. Let every one bear respect to all men; be ever humble; be easily satisfied and content; gratefully acknowledge favours; listen to the preaching of the law in its proper time; be patient; delight in good conversation; visit the religious from time to time; converse on religious subjects; cultivate the virtue of mortification; practise works of virtue; pay attention always to the four great truths; keep the eyes fixed on Neibban. Finally, let one in the middle of the eight afflictions of this world be, like the Rahanda, firm, without disquietude, fearless, with a perfect composure. O young Nat, whoever observes these perfect laws shall never be overcome by the enemies of the good: he shall enjoy the peace of Ariahs."
Within a narrow compass, Buddha has condensed an abridgment of almost all moral virtues. The first portion of these precepts contains injunctions to shun all that may prove an impediment to the practice of good works. The second part inculcates the necessity of regulating one's mind and intention for a regular discharge of the duties incumbent on each man in his separate station. Then follows a recommendation to bestow assistance on parents, relatives, and all men in general. Next to that, we find recommended the virtues of humility, resignation, gratitude, and patience. After this, the preacher insists on the necessity of studying the law, visiting religious, conversing on religious subjects. When this is done, the hearer is commanded to study with great attention the four great truths, and keep his mind's eye ever fixed on the happy state of Neibban, which, though as yet distant, ought never to be lost sight of. Thus prepared, the hearer must be bent upon acquiring the qualifications befitting the true sage. Like the one mentioned by the Latin poet, who would remain firm, fearless, and unmoved, even in the midst of the ruins of the crumbling universe, the Buddhist sage must ever remain calm, composed, and unshaken among all the vicissitudes of life. Here is again clearly pointed out the final end to be arrived at, viz., that of perfect mental stability. This state is the foreshadowing of that of Neibban.
[5] From the perusal of this Legend, it can be remarked that Buddha, in the course of his preachings, withheld from no one the knowledge of his doctrine, but, on the contrary, aimed at popularising it in every possible way. In this respect he widely differed from the Brahmins, who enveloped their tenets in a mysterious obscurity, and even in that state of semi-incomprehensibility, condescended to offer them to the consideration of but a few selected adepts. But Buddha followed quite an opposite course. He preached to all without exception. On this occasion we see him engaged in explaining to the mother and wife of Ratha duties truly becoming their sex and position. He warned them against the danger of speaking too much, or speaking hastily and with a tone of dissatisfaction. He desired them to be always cool and moderate in their conversation, and to take a pleasure in conversing on religious topics, such as the practice of the ten great duties, the merits of almsgiving, and on the other precepts of the law. He showed to them the unbecomingness of inconsistency in speaking, and finally concluded by exhorting them to allow wisdom to guide them in the right use of the faculty of speech. Every one will agree in this that the lecture was a very appropriate one, and would suit women of our days as well as those of Buddha's times.
It is not easy to determine whether these two female converts became Rahanesses by forsaking the world and devoting all their time to religious observances, or simply believed in Buddha's doctrines and continued to live in the world. The Burmese translator makes use of expressions liable to both interpretations. I feel inclined to adopt the second supposition. They became female Upasakas, and continued to live in the world. We shall see, hereafter, that Gaudama's aunt, Patzapati, was the first, after much entreating, who was allowed to become a Rahaness.
The great former of the Buddhistic disciplinary regulations has also laid down rules for the institution and management of an order of female devotees, to match, as it were, with that of talapoins. Hence in almost all countries where Buddhism flourishes, there are to be met houses and monasteries which are the abodes of those pious women, who emulate Rahans in the strict observance of practices of the highest order. Their dress, except the colour, which is white, is quite similar to that of talapoins; their head is shaved; they live in strict continence as long as they continue to wear the dress of their profession. They have certain formulas of prayer to repeat every day several times. Their diet is the same as that of talapoins; they are forbidden to take any food after midday. I am not aware that they render any service to society in the way of keeping schools for the benefit of female children. They live on alms freely bestowed on them by their co-religionists. The Burmese honour them with the title of Mathi-la-shing, which means ladies of the religious duties. The order of those female devotees is now much on the decline; the inmates of houses are but few, enjoying a very small share of public esteem and respect. They are generally looked upon with feelings akin to those entertained towards beggars.
In the Wini, or book of discipline, the relations that are allowed to subsist between the two orders of male and female devotees are minutely described and clearly laid down, so as to prevent the evils that might result from a familiar and unnecessary intercourse. Thoroughly acquainted with the weakest side of human nature, the author of the Wini has legislated on that subject with the utmost circumspection. He allowed rather aged Rahans to be the spiritual advisers of the Rahanesses, but he denies them the leave of ever going to their houses under any pretext whatever. When the latter want to hear preaching or receive some advice from the Rahans, they resort in broad daylight to the monastery, are permitted to stay in a large hall open to the public, at a considerable distance from him whom they desire to consult. Having briefly and with becoming reverence made known the object of their visit, and received some spiritual instructions, they immediately return to their own place.
The same reflection may be applied to the conversion of Ratha's father. It is said that he was the first convert out of the body of laymen. He does not appear to have forsaken the world and become a first-class convert. He became a Thautapati, and at once entered one of the four ways leading to perfection, but remained in the world.
[6] The conversion of Ratha and of his young friends shows to us distinctly the tendency of Buddha's preachings, and their effect over those who believed in him. Ratha is represented as a young worldly-minded man, who, in the midst of riches, has denied himself to no kind of pleasure. He feels that the enjoyments he was so fond of can in no manner satisfy the cravings of his heart: he is disgusted at them, and resolves to withdraw into solitude, with the intention of placing himself under the direction of some eminent teacher, and learn from him the way to happiness. He hopes that the study of philosophy will lead him to true wisdom and the acquirement of the means that may render him happy. He luckily falls in with Buddha, who explains to him that the senses are the instruments through which passions act upon and tyrannise over the soul, by keeping it in a painful subjection to matter. He points out to him the necessity of freeing himself from their control. This principle of Buddhism, which aims at disengaging the soul from matter, isolating it from all that proves a burden to it, and delivering it from the tyrannical yoke of concupiscence, is in itself perfectly correct, but, carried beyond its legitimate consequences, it becomes false and absurd. According to Buddhists, the soul, disentangled from all that exists, finds itself alone without any object it can adhere to; folding itself up into its own being, it remains in a state of internal contemplation, destitute alike of all active feelings of pleasure and pain. This doctrine was known in the time of Buddha, as far as the principle is concerned. The Rathees and other sages in those days upheld it both in theory and practice; but, on the consequences, the originator of Buddhism was at issue with his contemporaries, and struck out a new path in the boundless field of speculative philosophy.
[7] The Wini is one of the great divisions of Buddhistic sacred writings. The Pitagat, or collection of all the Scriptures, is divided into three parts—the Thouts, containing the preachings of Buddha, the Wini, or book of the discipline, and the Abidama, or the book of Metaphysics. That compilation is supposed to embody the doctrines of Buddha in a complete manner. These books have not been written by Buddha himself, since it is said of him that he never wrote down anything. The first Buddhistic compositions were certainly written by the disciples of Phra, or their immediate successors. But there arose some disputes among the followers of Buddha, as to the genuineness of the doctrines contained in the various writings published by the chief disciples. To settle the controversy, an assembly or council of the most influential members of the Buddhistic creed, under the presidency of Kathaba, was held about three months after Gaudama's demise. The writings regarded as spurious were set aside, and those purporting to contain the pure doctrines of Phra were collected into one body, and formed, as it were, the canon of sacred books. The matter so far was settled for the time being, but the human mind, when unrestrained by authority, acted in those days with the same result as it does in our own times. Various and different were the constructions put on the same text by the expounders of the Buddhistic law. All parties admitted the same books, but they dissented from each other in the interpretation. Some of the books hitherto regarded as sacred were altered or rejected altogether to make room for the works of new doctors. Confusion prevailed to such an extent, that an hundred years later a second council was assembled for determining the authenticity of the real and genuine writings. A new compilation was made and approved of by the assembly. The evil was remedied; but the same causes that had exercised so baneful an influence previously to the time of the second council soon worked again and produced a similar result. Two hundred and thirty-five years after Gaudama's death a third council was assembled. The books compiled by the second council were revised and apparently much abridged, and with the sanction of the assembled fathers a new canon of scriptures was issued. The Pitagat in its present shape is regarded as the work of this last assembly. All the books are written in the Pali or Magatha language. In the beginning of the fifth century of our era, according to our author's computation, a learned man, named Boudagautha, went to Ceylon, and brought back to Burmah a copy of the collection of the Pitagat. Then he introduced into this country the alphabet now in use, and translated into the vernacular a portion of the scriptures. This important subject shall receive hereafter fuller development.
[8] The four principles or truths so often alluded to in the course of this work ought to be well understood, in order to get a clear insight into the system under consideration. These four truths are as follows:—1. There are afflictions and miseries attending the existence of all beings. 2. There are passions and, in particular, concupiscence, which are the causes of all miseries. 3. There is Neibban, which is the exemption of all passions, and, consequently, the deliverance from all miseries. 4. There are the four ways or high roads leading to Neibban. Here is the summary of the sublime knowledge and transcendent science possessed by a Buddha: these four fundamental truths form the four features or characteristics of his law; they safely guide man in the way to deliverance. The Buddhist sage, who longs to become perfect, must study with attention the position of all beings in this world, survey with a patient regard their diversified conditions, and fathom the depth of the abyss of miseries in which they are miserably sunk. A vague, general and superficial knowledge of these miseries is insufficient to create that perfect acquaintance with human wretchedness. He ought to examine one after the other those series of afflictions, until he feels, as it were, their unbearable weight pressing over his soul. This first step having been made by the means of reflection, meditation, and experience, the sage, standing by the side of all miseries that press upon all beings, as a physician, by the bed of a patient, inquires into the cause of such an awful moral disorder. He soon discovers the generating causes of that universal distemper; they are the passions in general; or rather, to speak more in accordance with Buddhistic expressions, concupiscence, anger, and ignorance are the springs all demerits flow from, are the impure sources wherefrom originate all the miseries and afflictions this world is filled with. The destruction of those passions is the main and great object he has in view. He, therefore, leaves the world and renounces all pleasures and worldly possessions, in order to extinguish concupiscence; he practises patience under the most trying circumstances, that anger may no longer have any power over him; he studies the law, and meditates on all its points, in order to dispel the dark atmosphere of ignorance by the bright light of knowledge.
Having advanced so far, the sage has not yet reached the final object of his desires; he has not yet attained to the end he anxiously wishes to come to. He is just prepared and qualified for going in search of it. Neibban, or the absolute exemption and permanent deliverance from the four causes productive of existence, or of a state of being, is the only thing he deems worthy to be desired and earnestly longed for. The sage, perceiving such a desirable state, sighs after it with all the powers of his soul. Neibban is to him what the harbour is to the storm-beaten mariner, or deliverance to the worn-out inmate of a dark dungeon. But such a happy state is, as yet, at a great distance; where is the road leading thereto? This is the last truth the sage has to investigate. The four roads to perfection are opened before him. These he must follow with perseverance; they will conduct him to Neibban. They are a perfect belief, a perfect reflection, a perfect use of speech, and a perfect conduct.
[9] Buddha, having trained up his disciples to the knowledge of his doctrines as well as to the practice of his ordinances, elevates them to the dignity of preachers, or, to be more correct, makes them fellow-labourers in the arduous task of imparting to mankind the wholesome knowledge of saving truths. An unbounded field is opened before him; the number of beings who are designed to partake of the blessings of his doctrines is incalculably great. His own efforts will not prove adequate to the difficulties such a mighty undertaking is encompassed with; he joins to himself fervent disciples that have reached all but the farthest limit of perfection by the thorough control they have obtained over their passions; he considers them as instruments well fitted for carrying into execution his benevolent designs, and entrusts them with the mission he has entered upon. By adopting such a step, the wise founder of Buddhism establishes a regular order of men, whom he commissions to go and preach to all living creatures the doctrines they have learnt from him. The commission he imparted to them was evidently to be handed down to their successors in the same office. He may now die, but he is sure that the work he has begun shall be carried on with zeal and devotedness by men who have renounced the world and given up all sorts of enjoyments, that they might engage in the great undertaking with a heart perfectly disentangled from all ties and impediments of every description.
In entrusting his disciples with the important duty of teaching mankind, Buddha, obeying the impulse of his universal charity, desires them to go all over the world and preach all the truth to all mortals. He distinctly charges them to announce openly and unreservedly all that they have heard from him. In these instructions the plan of Buddha is clearly laid down, and the features of the mission he assumes distinctly delineated. His object is to spread his doctrines all over the world and to bring all beings under his moral sway. He makes no distinction between man and man, nation and nation. Though belonging by birth to a high caste, he disregards at once those worldly barriers whereby men are separated from each other, and acknowledges no dignity but that which is conferred by virtue. Bold, indeed, was the step that he took in a country where the distinction of caste is so deeply rooted in the habits of the people, that all human efforts have, hitherto, proved abortive in destroying it. It has already been hinted in a foregoing note that Gaudama placed himself on a new ground, in opposition to the Brahminical doctrines. He, doubtless, cautiously avoided to wound directly the feelings of his antagonists; but, at the same time, he adroitly sowed the seed of a mighty revolution, that was to change, if left to grow freely, the face of the Indian peninsula. His doctrine bore two characteristics, that were to distinguish it essentially from that of his adversaries; it was popular and universal, whereas that of his opponents was wrapped up in a mysterious obscurity, and unfolded completely only to a privileged caste. Another great difference between the two systems is this: Buddha paid little attention to the dogmatical portion of religion, but laid the greatest stress on morals. The dogmas are few and little insisted on. He aimed at correcting the vices of the heart, but exerted himself little to redress the errors of the mind.
[10] In these new instructions delivered to the Rahans, Buddha gives them the power of receiving into the ranks of the assembly those of their converts who should prove foremost in understanding the law and observing its highest practices. He empowers them to confer on others the dignity of Rahans, and admit them to the various steps that lead to that uppermost one. To observe uniformity in the reception of candidates to the various orders, Buddha laid down a number of regulations embodied in the Kambawa, or book used as a sort of ritual on the days of admission of candidates to the dignity of Patzins and Rahans. The contents of this small but interesting work may be seen in the notice on the order of talapoins, or Buddhist monks, inserted at the end of this volume. That the reader may have now an idea of the general purpose and object of these regulations, I will sketch a slight outline of them. The candidate, who seeks for admission among the members of the order, has to appear before an assembly of Rahans, presided over by a dignitary. He must be provided with the dress of the order, and a patta or the pot of a mendicant. He is presented to the assembly by a Rahan, upon whom devolves the important duty of instructing him in all that regards the profession he is about to embrace, and lead him through the ordeal of the ceremony. He is solemnly interrogated before the assembly on the several defects and impediments which incapacitate an individual for admission into the order. On his declaring that he is free from such impediments, he is, with the consent of the assembled fathers, promoted to the rank of Patzin. But before he is allowed to take his place among his brethren, he is instructed in the four principal duties he will have to observe, and warned against the four capital sins, the commission of which would deprive him of his high and holy character, and cause his expulsion from the society.
It is supposed that the candidate, previous to his making application for obtaining the dignity of Rahan, has qualified himself by study and a good life for admittance among the perfect. By surrounding the admission of candidates into the ranks of the order with a display of ceremonies, the shrewd framer of these regulations intended to encircle the whole body with a halo of dignity and sacredness, and at the same time to provide, as far as human wisdom allows, against the reception of unworthy postulants.
Hitherto Buddha had reserved to himself alone the power of elevating hearers or converts to the dignity of Rahans; now he transfers to his disciples that power and bids them use it as they had seen him do, in behalf of those whom they deem worthy applicants. He has established a society, and striven to infuse into it all the elements necessary for keeping it up hereafter, and securing its existence and permanency. He sets up a kind of ecclesiastical hierarchy, which is to be perpetuated during the ages to come by the same means and power that brought it into existence.
Having put such a power into the hands of his disciples, Buddha very properly exhorts them to emulate him in his efforts to become perfect. He sets himself as a pattern of perfection, and bids them all imitate the examples he places before them. He shows briefly to them by what means he has attained the state of Arahatapho, and stimulates them to the adopting of similar means. The word Arahatapho is composed of two words—arahat, which means perfect, and pho or phola, as the orthography indicates, which means reward, merit. The state of Arahatapho is that in which a man enjoys the merits or reward of perfection, which he has reached by the practice of virtue, and particularly the acquirement of wisdom or knowledge of the highest points of the law. It is used often in opposition to the word Arahatamegata, which signifies the ways or roads leading to perfection.
[11] I have translated by lent the Burmese expression Watso, which is but the Pali term Wasa, Burmanised. The word "lent," which has been adopted, is designed to express not the real meaning of Wasa, but to convey to the reader's mind the idea of a time devoted to religious observances. Wasa means a season, but it is intended to designate the rainy season, which in those parts of the Peninsula where Buddha was residing begins in July and ends in November. During that period the communications between villages and towns are difficult, if not impossible. The religious mendicants were allowed in former times, very likely from the very days of Buddha, to retire into the houses of friends and supporters, from which they went forth occasionally begging their food. In the beginning, those who were admitted in the society did not live in community, as was afterwards done in those countries where Buddhism has been of a long time in a flourishing condition. They were allowed to withdraw into solitude, and lead an ascetic life, or to travel from one place to another to preach the law and make converts. This work could not be well done during the rainy season. Hence the disciples, while as yet few in number, gathered round their master during that period to hear instructions from him, and practise virtue under his immediate superintendence. They lived with him during all the time the rainy season lasted. This was called to spend the season. In the course of this Legend, the same expression is often met with. It is said of Buddha that he spent a season in such a place, another in another place, to indicate that he stayed in one place during the rainy season, which precluded the possibility of doing the duties of an itinerant preacher.
When the religious order became regularly constituted, and the basis it was to stand on was fairly laid down, the ever-increasing number of members made them feel the want of secluded places where they could live in community, and at the same time quite retired from the world. Houses or monasteries were erected for receiving the pious Rahans. The inmates of those dwellings lived under the direction of a superior, devoting their time to study, meditation, and the observances of the law. They were allowed to go out in the morning very early, to beg and collect the food they wanted for the day. Such is the state the religious are living in up to our own time in Burmah, Ceylon, Thibet, Siam, and in the other countries where Buddhism has been firmly established.
The religious season, or lent, lasts three months. It begins in the full moon of Watso (July) and ends at the full moon of Thadinkiout (October). The keeping of the season in Burmah is as follows:—On the days of the new and full moon crowds of people resort to the pagodas, carrying offerings of flowers, small candles, oil, &c. A great many are found to spend the night in the bungalows erected, chiefly for that purpose, in their immediate vicinity. Women occupy bungalows separated from those of men. It must be admitted that there, as in churches, they far outnumber the men. On such occasions, religion appears to be rather the pretext than the real object of such assemblies. With the exception of old men and women, who are heard to converse on religious topics, and repeat some parts of the law, or recite some praises in honour of Buddha, the others seem to care very little for religion. The younger portion of the weaker sex freely indulge in the pleasure of conversation. It is quite a treat to them to have such a fine opportunity of giving full scope to their talkative powers. During that season the pious faithful are charitably inclined to bestow alms on the Rahans. All the necessaries of life pour with abundance and profusion into the monasteries. Besides alms-giving and resorting to the pagodas, some fervent laymen practise abstinence and fasting to a certain extent; these, however, are but few. During that period the Buddhist recluses are often invited to go to certain places, prepared for the purpose, to preach the law to and receive alms from crowds of hearers who are gathered thither on such occasions. Talapoins are generally seated on an elevated platform, facing the congregation; they keep their large fans before the face through modesty, to save themselves from the danger of looking on some tempting object. They repeat in chorus certain passages of the life of Buddha, enumerate the five great precepts and other observances of the law. The whole preaching generally goes on in Pali, that is to say, in a language unknown to the congregation. When they have done their duty they withdraw, followed by a great number of their disciples, carrying back to the monasteries all the offerings made by the faithful. It happens also, although but seldom in our days, that some fervent recluses withdraw during the whole or a part of the lent season into solitary places, living by themselves, and devoting all their time to reading the books of the law, and meditating on the most important points and maxims of religion.
[12] The remarks of the Burmese translator afford me an opportunity of explaining one of the leading tenets of the Buddhistic creed. All beings in this world are subjected to the double influence of their merits and demerits. The good influence predominates when the sum of merits surpasses that of demerits, and it is superseded by the latter when the contrary takes place. This principle once admitted, Buddhists explain the good or evil that befalls every individual in every conceivable state of existence. Is a man dead, he is attended on his way to another state of being both by his merits and demerits, who, like two inseparable companions, follow him whithersoever he goes. Should the sum of demerits prove greater, he is forced into hell, or into some other state of punishment, to bear sufferings proportionately to his offences, until he has fully paid off his debt, or, to speak the language of Buddhists, until the sum of his demerits be quite exhausted. If, on the contrary, at the moment of his death the influence of merits be the strongest, he is directed into a state of happiness, pleasure, and enjoyment, say in one of the seats of Nats or Brahmas, and remains there as long as the action of the good influence lasts. When it is over he comes again into the abode of man, or in a state of probation, when he has to labour anew for amassing new and greater merits, that will hereafter entitle him to a higher reward than the one he had previously enjoyed. From the foregoing observations it is evident that the idea of a Supreme Being rewarding the good and punishing the wicked is carefully excluded, and all foreign interference on this subject entirely done away with. Another conclusion flowing from the same source is, that there is no eternity of reward or punishment, but both last for a longer or shorter period, in proportion to the sum of merits and demerits, and consequently to the power of each influence respectively.
It may be asked what becomes of the sum of demerits and its consequent evil influence, whilst the superior good influence prevails? The sum of demerits remains all the while entire and undiminished; the operation of the evil influence is suspended, and has no power whatever, its own being checked by a greater one. But the sum of merits being exhausted, and its inherent action at an end, the opposite one is set at liberty, and acts on the individual proportionately to its own strength, and lasts until it is all exhausted. As man can never be without some merits or demerits, good or bad deeds, he must be either in a state of reward or punishment; this is, if I may say so, the mainspring that moves all beings into the whirlpool of countless existences, wherein they meet happiness or unhappiness according to their deserts. The being that tends strongly and perseveringly through his various existences towards perfection, weakens gradually, and finally destroys in himself the law of demerits; he ascends steadily the steps of the ladder of perfection by the practice of the highest virtues. Having reached its summit, there is no more reason for his going through other existences, and he steps at once into the state of Neibban.
On the above principle Buddhists account for all the various phases of human existence. Is a child born from rich, great, and distinguished parents, does he become a wealthy and powerful man, does he become a king or a nobleman, &c.—he is indebted for all that to merits acquired during former existences. Is another child born in a low, poor, and wretched condition, is he born with bodily or intellectual defects and imperfections, &c., &c.—his former demerits are the principle and cause of all his subsequent misfortunes.
The doctrine of merits and demerits, and of their concomitant influences, has been fully illustrated in the person of Buddha himself during his former existences. He said of himself to his disciples that he had passed with various fortune through the range of the animal kingdom, from the dove to the elephant; that being man he had been often in hell, and in various positions of riches and poverty, greatness and meanness, until by his mighty efforts he at last freed himself from all evil influence, and reached his present state of perfection. He is supposed to have recounted to his disciples on different occasions five hundred and ten of his former existences.
[13] It has been asserted in a former note that the preachings of Buddha were accompanied with miracles, to impart an additional weight and an irresistible evidence to his doctrines. This assertion is fully corroborated by all the particulars attending the conversion of the three Kathabas and their disciples. On this occasion Buddha met with the greatest amount of stubborn resistance on the part of Ooroowela Kathaba. There is no doubt but our great preacher resorted to every means of persuasion to carry conviction to the mind of his distinguished hearer. He had, however, to deal with a man full of his own merits and excellence, who thought himself far superior to every one else. His best arguments proved powerless before a self-conceited individual, who was used to give and not to receive instruction, and enjoyed a far-famed celebrity. Buddha was compelled to resort to his unbounded power of working miracles, and with it overcame at last the obstinate and blind resistance of the proud Rathee. No conquest had ever been so dearly bought; but it proved well worth the extraordinary efforts made to obtain it. Kathaba became one of the most staunch adherents of Buddha, and one of the most fervent disciples, who laboured hard for the propagation of Buddhism. He is the most celebrated of all Buddhistic monks, and to his name is ever prefixed the distinguished epithet of Maha, which means great. After Gaudama's demise, he became the patriarch of the Buddhists. By his care and exertions, a council of five hundred Rahans was assembled at Radzagio, under the reign of King Adzatathat, to condemn the unbecoming language used by some false or imperfectly taught converts, who wished to shake off, on many points, the authority of Buddha.
In the episode of the conversion of the three Kathabas, the attentive reader cannot fail to have observed one particular that throws some light on the position several heads of philosophical schools occupied in the days that saw the origin of Buddhism. Those sages lived in retired places, far from the bustle and tumult of the world. It is probable that at first they were alone, or with but a few other individuals who delighted in the same mode of life. Their time was entirely taken up with study and meditation. The object of their studies and reflections was the boundless field of metaphysics and morals. Their diet was plain, and their abstemiousness carried to a degree Hindu devotees and fanatics are alone capable of reaching. The fame of the proficiency of some of those individuals in science and virtue soon attracted to their solitude numbers of pupils, eager to place themselves under the tuition and discipline of masters so eminent in every respect. The three Kathabas must have been celebrated throughout the country, since we find them at the head of so many disciples. Humility has never been the forte of the heathen sages, either in or out of India. Conceit and self-esteem were fostered in their souls by the consciousness of their own superiority and excellence, by the praises lavished on them by their disciples, and not a little by the seclusion from society to which they voluntarily resigned themselves. Spiritual pride, like a cunning foe, occupied in the heart the place vacated by passions of a coarser nature and less delicate tinge. The conduct of the elder Kathaba fully bears out the truth and correctness of the above assertion.
CHAPTER VII.
Buddha's sermon on the mountain—Interview of Buddha and King Pimpathara in the vicinity of the city of Radzagio—Answer of Kathaba to Buddha's interrogation—Instructions delivered to the king and his attendants—Solemn entry of Buddha into Radzagio—Donation of the Weloowon monastery to Buddha—Conversion of Thariputra and Maukalan—The Rahans are keenly taunted by the people of Radzagio.
Accompanied by his thousand followers, Phra went to the village of Gayathitha. This village stands on the bank of the river Gaia. Close to it, there is a mountain resembling in appearance an elephant's head. On the top of the mountain stands a large rock, wide enough to accommodate Buddha and all his attendants. He ascended the mountain with his disciples, and, having reached its summit, sat down. Summoning all his disciples, he said to them: "Beloved Bickus, all that is to be met with in the three abodes of men, Nats, and Brahmas, is like a burning flame. But why is it so? Because the eyes are a burning flame; the objects perceived by the eyes, the view of those objects, the feeling created by that view, are all like a burning flame. The sensations produced by the eyes cause a succession of pleasant and painful feelings, but these are likewise a burning flame. What are the causes productive of such a burning? It is the fire of concupiscence, of anger, of ignorance, of birth, of death, of old age, and of anxiety. Again, the ear is a burning flame; the sounds, the perception of the sounds, the sensations caused by the sounds, are all a burning flame; the pleasure or pain produced by the sounds are also a burning flame, which is fed by the fire of concupiscence, anger, ignorance, birth, old age, death, anxiety, tears, affliction, and trouble. Again, the sense of smelling is a burning flame; the odours, the perception of odours, the sensations produced by odours, are all a burning flame; the pleasure and pain resulting therefrom are but a burning flame, fed by concupiscence, anger, ignorance, birth, old age, death, disquietude, tears, affliction, and sorrow. Again, the taste is a burning flame; the objects tasted, the perception of those objects, the sensations produced by them, are all a burning flame, kept up by the fire of concupiscence, anger, ignorance, birth, old age, death, anxiety, tears, affliction, and sorrow. Again, the sense of feeling, the objects felt, the perception of those objects, the sensations produced by them, are a burning flame; the pleasure and pain resulting therefrom are but a burning flame, fostered by concupiscence, anger, ignorance, birth, old age, death, anxiety, tears, affliction, and sorrow. Again, the heart is a burning flame, as well as all the objects perceived by it, and the sensations produced in it; the pleasure and pain caused by the heart are too a burning flame, kept up by the fire of concupiscence, anger, ignorance, birth, old age, death, disquietude, tears, affliction, and sorrow. Beloved Bickus, they who understand the doctrine I have preached, and see through it, are full of wisdom and deserve to be called my disciples. They are displeased with the senses, the objects of the senses, matter, pleasure and pain, as well as with all the affections of the heart. They become free from concupiscence, and therefore exempt from passions. They have acquired the true wisdom that leads to perfection; they are delivered at once from the miseries of another birth. Having practised the most excellent works, nothing more remains to be performed by them. They want no more the guidance of the sixteen laws, for they have reached far beyond them."[1]
Having thus spoken, Buddha remained silent. His hearers felt themselves wholly disentangled from the trammels of passion, and disengaged from all affections to material objects, and they who had been but Rahans became Rahandas.
Whilst the most excellent Phra was enjoying himself in the place of Gayathitha, he recollected that, at the time when he was but a Phralaong, being near the mountain Pantawa, he had received from King Pimpathara an invitation to come to his own country and preach the law. Accompanied with his thousand Rahandas, he set out for the country of Radzagio. Having arrived at a small distance from the royal city he went to the Latti grove, about three gawots from Radzagio, a place planted with palm trees. The king, having heard of his arrival, said to his people: "The descendant of a long succession of illustrious princes, the great Rahan Gaudama, has entered into our country, and is now in the grove of palm trees, in the garden of Tandiwana." The happy news was soon re-echoed throughout the country. The people said among themselves: "The great Gaudama is come indeed. He is perfectly acquainted with all that relates to the three states of men, Nats, and Brahmas; he preaches a sublime and lovely law; the morals that he announces are pure, like a shell newly cleansed." Pimpathara, placing himself at the head of 120,000 warriors, surrounded by crowds of nobles and Pounhas, went to the garden of Tandiwana, where Phra was seated in the middle of his disciples. He paid his respects by prostrating himself before him, and then withdrew to a becoming distance. The countless crowd followed the example of their monarch, and seated themselves at a becoming distance. Some of them remained conversing with Buddha, and heard from him words worthy to be ever remembered; some others, having their hands joined to the forehead, remained in a respectful attitude; some were praising his illustrious ancestors; others remained modestly silent. All of them, perceiving the three Kathabas close to the person of Phra, doubted whether Gaudama was their disciple, or they, his disciples. Buddha, seeing at once what thought occupied the mind of the warriors, noblemen, and Pounhas, addressed the elder Kathaba, called Ooroowela Kathaba, and said to him: "Kathaba, you who lived formerly in the solitude of of Ooroowela, answer the question I am now putting to you. You were formerly a teacher of Rathees, who practised works of great mortification, to such an extent that their bodies were emaciated by self-inflicted penances: what has induced you to give up the sacrifices you were wont to make?" "Blessed Buddha," answered Kathaba, "I have observed that exterior objects, the sounds, the taste, the gratification of the senses, are but miserable filth; and, therefore, I take no more delight in the offering of small and great sacrifices." Buddha replied, "Kathaba, if you be no longer pleased with what is beautiful to the eyes, pleasant to the ear, palatable to the taste, and agreeable to the gratification of the senses, in what do you presently find pleasure and delight?" Kathaba answered, "Blessed Buddha, the state of Neibban is a state of rest, but that rest cannot be found as long as we live under the empire of senses and passions. That rest excludes existence, birth, old age, and death; the great mental attainments alone lead thereto. I know and see that happy state. I long for it. I am, therefore, displeased with the making of great and small sacrifices." Having thus spoken, Kathaba rose up, worshipped Buddha by prostrating himself before him, and touching with his forehead the extremities of his feet, and said, "O most excellent Buddha, you are my teacher, and I am your disciple." All the people, seeing what Kathaba had done, knew that he was practising virtue under the direction of Gaudama.[2] Phra, who was acquainted with their innermost thoughts, knew that they were longing to hear the preaching of the law. As he had always done, he began to preach to them the virtue of liberality in almsgiving, and then unfolded before them, with matchless eloquence, the advantages of leaving the world, &c. The hearers felt an inward delight in all that was said to them. Observing the favourable impression made upon them, Gaudama continued to instruct them on the four laws, regarding the miseries of this world, the passions, the practice of excellent works, and the ways to perfection. At the conclusion of these instructions, the king and 100,000 of the assembly, like a piece of white cloth which, when plunged into dye, retains the colour it receives, obtained instantly the state Thautapan.[3] As to the 10,000 remaining hearers, they believed in the three precious things in the capacity of Upathakas.
The ruler of the country of Magataritz, King Pimpathara, having obtained the state of Thautapan, said to Gaudama, "Illustrious Buddha, some years ago, when I was but a crown prince of this country, I entertained five desires, which were all happily accomplished. Here are the five desires—I wished to become king; I desired that the Phra, worthy of receiving the homage of all men, should come into my kingdom; that I might have the privilege of approaching him; that he might preach his doctrine to me; and, finally, that I might thoroughly understand all his preaching. These five wishes have been fully realised. Your law, O most excellent Buddha, is a most perfect law. To what shall I liken it as regards the happy results it produces? It is like replacing on its proper basis a vase that was bottom upwards, or setting to light objects hitherto buried in deep darkness; it is an excellent guide that shows out the right way; it is like a brilliant light, shining forth and dispelling darkness. Now I take refuge in you, your law, and the assembly of the perfect. Henceforth I will be your supporter, and to-morrow I will supply you and your disciples with all that is necessary for the support of nature." Buddha, by his silence, testified his acceptance of the offered favour. Whereupon the king rose up, prostrated himself before him, and, turning on the right, left the place, and returned to his palace.
Early in the morning Pimpathara ordered all sorts of eatables to be prepared. Meanwhile he sent messengers to Buddha to inform him that his meal was ready. Buddha, rising up, put on his dress, and, carrying his patta, set out for Radzagio, followed by his one thousand disciples. At that time a prince of Thagias, assuming the appearance of a handsome young man, walked a little distance in front of Buddha, singing to his praise several stanzas. "Behold the most excellent is advancing towards Radzagio with his one thousand disciples. In his soul he is full of meekness and amiability; he is exempt from all passions; his face is beautiful, and shines forth like the star Thigi; he has escaped out of the whirlpool of existences, and delivered himself from the miseries of transmigration. He is on his way to the city of Radzagio attended by a thousand Rahandas." (The same stanza is thrice repeated.) "He who has obtained the perfection of Ariahs, who has practised the ten great virtues, who has a universal knowledge, who knows and preaches the law of merits, who discovers at once the sublime attainments, the most perfect being, the most excellent, is entering into the city of Radzagio attended by a thousand Rahandas."
The inhabitants of the city, seeing the beautiful appearance of that young man, and hearing all that he was singing aloud, said to each other, "Who is that young man whose countenance is so lovely, and whose mouth proclaims such wonderful things?" The Thagia, hearing what was said of him, replied, "O children of men! the most excellent Phra whom you see is gifted with an incomparable wisdom; all perfections are in him; he is free of all passions; no being can ever be compared to him; he is worthy to receive the homage and respect of men and Nats; his unwavering mind is ever fixed in truth; he announces a law extending to all things. As for me, I am but his humble servant."[4]
Having reached the king's palace, Buddha was received with every demonstration of respect, and led to the place prepared for him. Pimpathara thought within himself of the thing which could prove acceptable to Phra, in order to offer it to him. He said within himself, "My garden, which is situated near the city, would doubtless be a very fit place for Buddha and his followers to live in. As it lies not far from the city, it would be a place of easy resort to all those who should feel inclined to visit Buddha and pay him their respects; it is, moreover, far enough off, so that the noise and cries of the people could not be heard therein. The place is peculiarly fitted for retreat and contemplation; it will assuredly prove agreeable to Buddha." Whereupon he rose up, and, holding in his hand a golden shell like a cup, he made to Phra a solemn offering of that garden which was called Weloowon.[5] Gaudama remained silent, in token of his acceptance of the gift. He preached the law and left the palace. At that time he called his disciples and said to them, "Beloved Rahans, I give you permission to receive offerings."
In the country of Radzagio there was a heterodox Rahan named Thindzi, who had under him five hundred and fifty disciples. Thariputra and Maukalan were at that time practising virtue under the guidance of that master. Here is the way they became Rahans. When they were but laymen, under the names of Oopathi and Kaulita, on a certain day, surrounded by two hundred and twenty companions, they went to the top of a lofty mountain to enjoy the sight of countless multitudes of people sporting and playing in the surrounding flat country. While they were gazing over the crowds of human beings they said to each other, "In a hundred years hence all these living beings shall have fallen a prey to death." Whereupon they rose up and left the place, but their minds were deeply preoccupied with the idea of death. While the two friends were walking silently together, they began at last to communicate to each other the result of their reflections. "If there be," said they, "a principle of death, a universal tendency towards destruction, there must be, too, its opposite principle, that of not dying and escaping destruction." On that very instant they resolved to search ardently for the excellent law that teaches the way of not dying, and obtain the state of perfect fixity and immutability. In those parts there lived six heterodox teachers who were named Mekkali, Gau, Sala, Thindzi, Jani, and Ganti; among them Thindzi was the only one who, with his disciples, wore white clothes. They went to the place where lived the Rahan Thindzi, placed themselves under his direction, and put on the dress of Rahan. Within three days they acquired the science, wisdom, and knowledge of their teacher without having as yet reached the object of their eager pursuit. They said to Thindzi, "Teacher, is this all that you know? And have you no other science to teach us?" "I have indeed," replied the teacher, "taught you all the knowledge I possess." Finding nothing satisfactory in the answer, the two friends said, "Let us continue seeking for the law that has reality in itself; the first that shall have discovered it shall, without delay, communicate it to the other."
On a certain morning one of Gaudama's disciples named Athadzi, having put on his religious habit, and carrying his patta on his left arm, went out to receive his rice. Everything about his person was noble and graceful; his countenance and behaviour were at once gentle and dignified, whether he walked or stopped, looked forward to the right or the left, or sat in a cross-legged position. The false Rahan Oopathi, who became afterwards Thariputra, perceiving the Rahan Athadzi with such a meek and dignified deportment, said to himself, "Such a Rahan is assuredly worthy to receive offerings: he has doubtless attained perfection. I will go to him and ask him, in case he has had a teacher, who is that distinguished instructor under whom he practises virtue; and in case of his being himself a teacher, what is the doctrine that he teaches. But it is not becoming to put to him any question whilst he is on his way to beg alms. I will follow at a distance." Athadzi, having collected alms, left the city and went to a small dzeat, where he sat down and ate his meal. Oopathi followed him thither. Having entered into the dzeat, he rendered to him the services that a disciple usually pays to his teacher. When the meal of Athadzi was over, he poured water over his hands, and with a heart overflowing with joy, he conversed with him for a while. He withdrew then to a becoming distance, and addressed him as follows: "Great Rahan, your exterior is full of meekness and benevolence; your countenance bespeaks the purity and innocence of your soul; if you be a disciple, pray under what teacher have you become a Rahan? Who is your guide in the way to perfection? and what is the doctrine he is preaching to you?" "Young Rahan," replied Athadzi, "have you not heard of the illustrious Buddha, the descendant of a long succession of great monarchs, who has entered the profession of Rahan? I have become Rahan under him; he is my teacher; to his doctrine I cling with all the energy of my soul." "What is the doctrine of that great master?" asked Oopathi. "I am but a novice in the profession," replied modestly Athadzi, "and am as yet imperfectly acquainted with the doctrine of my teacher. The little, however, I know, I will freely communicate to you." Oopathi entreated him to do so. Athadzi replied, "The law which I have learned at the feet of Buddha explains all that relates to matter, to the principles that act upon it, to passions, and to the mind; it makes man despise all that is material, conquer his passions, and regulate his mind." On hearing this doctrine, Oopathi felt the ties of passions gradually relaxing and giving way; his soul became, as it were, disentangled from the influence of the senses. He became enamoured with such a pure and perfect law, and obtained the condition of Thautapan. Convinced that he had at last found what he had hitherto searched after in vain, the law of Neibban, he went without delay to his friend, to make him share in the beneficial result of his fortunate discovery. Kaulita, perceiving his friend coming up to him with a rejoicing countenance, indicative of the happiness his soul was inwardly enjoying, asked him if he had found what he had hitherto vainly looked for. Oopathi related to him all the particulars of his conversation with the Rahan Athadzi. Whereupon Kaulita became instantly a Thautapan. Both resolved to leave their teacher Thindzi, and go immediately to place themselves under the guidance of Buddha. Three times they applied for permission to execute their design, and three times it was denied them. At last they departed, each with his two hundred and twenty companions. Thindzi, enraged at being left alone, died, vomiting blood from his mouth.
When the two friends and their followers were drawing near to the place of Weloowon, Phra assembled all his disciples and said to them, "Behold these two friends coming up to me; they will become my two beloved disciples; their minds are acute and penetrating; they actually take delight in the law of Neibban; their thoughts are converging towards that great centre of truth; they come to me, and they will become my two most excellent disciples." While he was speaking, the two friends crossed the threshold of the monastery, and prostrated themselves at the feet of Buddha, humbly craving the favour of being admitted among his disciples to practise virtue under his immediate direction. On this occasion Phra uttered the following words: "O Bickus, come to me; I preach the most excellent law: apply yourselves to the practice of the most perfect works, which will put an end to all miseries." A suit of dress and a patta were handed to each of the two friends, that were henceforth to be called Thariputra and Maukalan, and they became members of the assembly. Having put on the new dress, they appeared to the eyes of all with the decent and dignified deportment of Rahans that had sixty years of profession. Their followers became Bickus of the second order. Seven days after, Maukalan became a Rahanda; but it took fifteen days for Thariputra to obtain the same favour. The two new converts were elevated to the dignity of disciples of the right and of the left; that is to say, they obtained precedence over all others.
The distinction thus granted to Thariputra and Maukalan excited a feeling of jealousy among the disciples of Buddha. In their conversations they complained to each other of the preference given to those who had just been admitted among the members of assembly. They went so far as to say that Buddha had acted in this case under the influence of human considerations. These remarks were brought to the notice of Buddha, who assembled his disciples, and said to them, "Beloved Bickus, my conduct in this instance has not been guided by unworthy motives; I have acted as I ought to have done. In the days of the Phra Anaumadathi, the two friends were leading the life of ascetics. They paid the greatest respect and veneration to the then existing Buddha, and entreated him, by repeated supplications, to hold out to them the solemn promise that they would become the disciples of the right and of the left of some future Buddha. Anaumadathi replied to them that the object of their wishes should be granted unto them when the Buddha Gaudama would appear in the world. This is, beloved Bickus, the reason that has influenced me in elevating to the first rank the two new converts." The answer completely satisfied the disciples, and effectually silenced all murmurs. Further particulars regarding the promise that these two illustrious friends received in the time of the Buddha Anaumadathi may be read, with circumstantial details, in the book called Apadan-tera.
The inhabitants of the Magatha country, seeing that so many persons, chiefly belonging to the first families, were embracing the profession of Rahans, said amongst themselves, "Behold how the Rahan Gaudama, by his preachings, causes the depopulation of the country, and forces countless wives to the unwished-for state of widowhood. A thousand Rathees have embraced the profession of Rahans; all the disciples of Thindzi have followed their example; many others will soon tread in their footsteps. What will become of our country?" With these and other expressions, they gave vent to their hatred of the Rahans, and endeavoured to pour over them all kinds of ridicule and abuse. They concluded by saying, "The great Rahan has come to the city of Radzagio, which is like a cow-pen, surrounded by five hills;[6] he has now with him the disciples of Thindzi; who will be the next to go to him?" The Rahans, hearing all that was said against them, went to Buddha and related to him all that they had heard. To console them, Buddha said, "Beloved Bickus, the abuses, sarcasms, and ridicule levelled at you shall not last long; seven days hence all shall be over. Here is the reply you will make to the revilers: Like all his predecessors, Buddha is striving to preach a most perfect law; by the means of the truths which he proclaims for the benefit of all, he brings men over to himself. What shall it avail any man to feel envious at the success he obtains by so legitimate a means?" The same torrent of ridicule having been poured on the Rahans, when they went out, they followed the advice of their great teacher, replied in the manner they had been taught to do, and the storm was soon over. The people understood that the great Rahan was preaching a perfect law, and that he never resorted but to fair means to attract disciples round his person. Here ends the narrative of the conversion and vocation of Thariputra and Maukalan.