FOOTNOTES
[1] It is impossible to assign the motive that induced the compiler of Buddha's life to insert in his work a long episode on the celebrated physician Dzewaka. The story is in itself uninteresting, and throws no light whatever on the history of the supposed originator or reformer of Buddhism. For this reason it has been thought quite unnecessary to give a complete translation of the whole passage. The name of Dzewaka is quite familiar to the adepts of the medical art in Burmah. Many times the writer has made inquiries respecting the works of the Hippocrates of India, but he has never been able to meet with mention of or allusion to such compositions. Hence he has been led to suppose that the father of medicine in these countries has left behind him no writings to embody the results of his theoretical and practical favourite pursuits. Surgery appears to have been no novelty with our great doctor, since we see him on an occasion extracting from the body of a prince, by means of an incision, a snake that put his life in peril.
The numerous quacks who in Burmah assume the name of physicians, and are ever ready to give medicines in all cases, even the most difficult and complicated, are ignorant of the very elements of the surgical art. They possess a certain number of remedies, made up of plants, which, when applied under proper circumstances and in certain cases, work wonderful cures. But the native physicians, unable in most instances to discern the true symptoms of diseases, prescribe remedies at random, and obtain, in too many cases, results most fatal to the unfortunate patient. In medicine as well as in religion, ignorance begets superstition and recourse to magical practices. We may positively assert that the black art is, with native practitioners, an essential concomitant to the practice of medicine. When a physician has exhausted the limited stock of remedies that he possesses, and he finds, in spite of his exertions, that the disease bids defiance to his skill, he gravely tells the relatives of the patient that some evil spirit is interfering with his remedies, and that he must be expelled ere there can be any chance of relieving the sufferer and obtaining his recovery. Whereupon a shed is erected with the utmost speed on a spot close to the house of the patient. Offerings of rice, fruits, and other articles are made to the pretended evil spirit, who is supposed to have got hold of the sufferer's body. Dances of the most frantic character are carried on by his relatives. Males will only officiate in default of females; preference is always given to the latter. Young girls, say the Burmese, are the fittest persons for the occasion, as it is supposed that the evil Nat is more effectually and easily propitiated by the power of their charms. This exercise lasts until, strength at last failing them, they drop down in a state of complete exhaustion and prostration. They appear as if they had entirely lost their senses. In that state they are supposed to be inspired by the evil spirit. Interrogated by the physician on the nature of the disease, and the proper remedies to be applied for eradicating it, they give answers, or rather they become channels through which the spirit, satisfied with the offerings made in his honour, condescends to declare that he has now left the patient, and that by placing him under a certain treatment, which he fails not to indicate, he will soon recover his health. Occurrences of this nature are exceedingly common. They are called by the natives festivals of the Nat-pan, or of the possessing spirit.
[2] The first followers of Buddha, observing a mode of life much resembling that of the Rathees, had hitherto made use of the dress they had purchased previous to their leaving the world. But when they became professed members of the new society, they were subjected to the observance of the vow of strict poverty, and had to depend entirely on public charity for the obtaining of the required food and raiment. The old clothes brought at the time of their entering the society were worn out and unfit to be put on. Others were to be provided for by some means that would not wound the delicate feeling of absolute poverty. The only one that occurred was the willing and liberal dispositions of the lay members of the Buddhist community. This new source of abundant alms was opened by our Buddha himself, on the occasion of the offering made by Dzewaka. Desiring likewise to do away with the scruples many religious might entertain respecting the lawfulness or unlawfulness of receiving articles of dress, Gaudama laid it down as a regulation that all the religious could lawfully accept all that might be willingly offered them by the faithful. In the foregoing pages we have seen the founder of Buddhism granting to his followers permission to receive houses and landed properties presented to communities. Now the same legislator, adhering to the same principle, gives a fuller development thereto, and extends to articles necessary for dress the leave to receive offerings of this description, proffered by the faithful to the religious. In the book of Buddhist ordinations, or promotion to the degree of Patzin, mention is made of these two sorts of permissions given to the Rahans.
[3] It was at that moment that Gaudama delighted to reveal to his disciples the most startling points of his doctrine, and made them familiar with certain tenets upon which he laid much stress. He wished that what he looked upon as subjects of the greatest importance, should be come familiar to them. No doubt he intended that those favourite topics should become the spiritual food upon which his disciples' minds should feed during the hours devoted to meditation. Those who are uninitiated in the doctrines of Buddhism will not understand the meaning of such an expression. It is difficult to obtain the nature of man. Such language is, however, in perfect accordance with the principles of that system. A being, who is in one of the four states of punishment, that of an animal, for instance, shall have, in many instances, to pass through an immense number of various existences, ere he can escape from the circle of animal existences, and at last emerge into that of man. To give us an idea of the excessive difficulties a being has to encounter, they make use of the following comparison. Let us suppose that a needle be dropped from one of the seats of Brahmas, and at the same time a man on earth be keeping another needle with the point upwards. It will be more easy for the two needles' extremities to come in contact one with the other, than it will be to a being in the condition of animal to reach the state of man. On the same principle one can easily imagine what mighty efforts must be made during countless existences ere a simple man can obtain all the qualifications necessary for enabling him to become a Buddha. The theory of Gaudama, on this point, resembles much that of some modern thinkers who preach the perfectibility of man to an almost infinite degree.
[4] The conversion of Ouggasena and of his companions, procured by the direct intervention of Buddha himself, is another instance of the truly liberal spirit which animated the great preacher. His law was intended for all without exception. The profession of these individuals whom he so peculiarly selected was far from being a respectable one. The proud Brahmin would not have condescended to take notice of people who, in his opinion, had degraded themselves so low. But the new teacher, though born from parents belonging to a high caste, entirely free from the prejudices inculcated by the narrow spirit of caste, rose himself to such a high position as to look upon man, whatever his condition or position might be, as a fellow-being fully entitled to the benefit of his instructions. This is one of the most striking features of his preachings, its universality as regards persons and places. It enables us to account for the rapid and astonishing diffusion of his doctrines through so many countries. It constitutes the essential and capital difference between the two great systems which, in days long passed by, have contested for the religious supremacy over the Indian peninsula.
In the subsequent story of Thoodaudana's illness, we see Buddha first, then Ananda, Thariputra, and Maukalan relieving the illustrious patient from his bodily distemper, by invoking, not the interference of a supreme Being, whom they ignore, but a certain power or influence connected with former good deeds. A great, nay, a miraculous, effect is produced by the agency of a cause which no one but a Buddhist can understand. He has recourse to kan, or the influence resulting from meritorious actions, as to a mighty agent who has the power to work any desired result whatever. But how a man can by his own will control the influence of his good actions, so as to produce a grand effect in no way short of a miracle, is a thing which can in no rational way be explained or accounted for.
[5] The rebuke given by Buddha to the disciple who had, without permission, made such a display of miraculous power, intended though it was for the promotion of his glory, was designed to operate as a salutary check on the pride that might find its way into the heart of even the most privileged beings. Such a lesson was deemed of the greatest importance, since we find in the book of Buddhistic ordinations the sin of boasting of or pretending to the power of working wonders, &c., ranked among the four capital sins, excluding a Rahan for ever from the society of the perfect, and depriving him of his rank and dignity. Buddha, it seems, wished to reserve to himself alone the honour of working miracles, or to give the permission, when circumstances should require it, to some of his disciples to do the same in his name and for the exaltation of his religion.
The following story of Purana and his five associates holds a prominent rank among the events that have rendered Buddha so celebrated. Gaudama, as it has been already mentioned in some foregoing notes, was an ascetic who had studied philosophy under eminent masters who belonged to the Brahminical school. In many of his opinions, as well as in his mode of life, there was no perceptible difference between him and the followers of the Brahmins. The writings of the latter, as well as those of the earliest Buddhists, exhibit to us the sight of a great number of schools; where opinions on ontology, morals, and dogmas, &c., at once various, multifarious, and opposite, were publicly taught. Then the human mind, left to its own resources, launching forth into the boundless field of speculative philosophy, ran in every direction, searching after truth. The mania for arguing, defining, drawing conclusions, &c., in those days, prevailed to an extent scarcely to be credited. Many centuries before Aristotle wrote the rules of dialectics, the Indian philosophers had carried the art of reasoning to a great degree of nicety and shrewdness. Witness the disputes and discussions between the Brahmins and the immediate disciples of Buddha. When our Phra began to attract about his person crowds of hearers and disciples; when his opinions on the end of man were understood and appreciated; when the system of castes received the first shock from the new but rapidly progressing doctrine; when the eyes and hearts of the people were slowly at first, and rapidly afterwards, centred on the new preacher and his disciples; when at last alms, that had hitherto flowed into the abodes of the Brahmins, began to enter into new channels and carry their substantial produce to the door of the followers of the new sect, then jealousy and other passions began to agitate the hearts of those who had hitherto retained an undisputed sway over the credulity of the people. They tried, if credit be given to the works of Buddhists, every effort and devised every means in order to oppose the progress of the new doctrine.
In this instance, Purana and his friends, assisted, as the Buddhists pretend, by the agency of the evil one, wished to enter into discussion with Buddha and to surpass him in the display of miraculous power. The contest was to take place in the country of Thawattie, in the presence of the king and of a countless multitude assembled for the purpose. Purana, as usual with Buddhists in regard to those who held opinions different from their own, is styled a heretic. Of the opinions of the enemies of Buddha nothing is said in the present work, but the writer has had the opportunity of perusing another work where a slight allusion is made to those six holders of heterodox doctrines. Their opinions were at variance on the beginning of this world, the eternity of matter, the existence of the soul, and a first principle, creator of all that exists. We may infer therefrom that they were heads or chiefs of various schools, who, though not agreeing among themselves upon purely speculative doctrines, united and combined against the common enemy. A detailed account of the doctrines held by these six heretics would prove highly interesting, as it would throw some light on the very obscure and imperfectly known history of Indian philosophy, in the days when Buddhism assumed the shape of a religious system. To those who are unacquainted with Indian literature, the great progress made by Hindus in philosophical sciences at such an early period may appear somewhat doubtful: but modern discoveries made all over the Indian peninsula leave not the least doubt respecting this startling assertion. At a period when Greece and the other regions of Europe were sunk in a state of complete ignorance, most of the branches of literature were successfully cultivated on the banks of the Ganges. The study of philosophy always supposes a great intellectual advancement. There would, therefore, be no rashness whatever in asserting that the present state and condition of India, as regards literary progress, are much below the mark that was attained at such a remote period. The epoch of literary decadence began with the devastating expeditions of the fanatical Moslem in the tenth century. It is probable, too, that the religious and sanguinary conflicts between the Buddhists and Brahminists have had their share in bringing about a similar result. The latter, having obtained the ascendancy over their adversaries, became more bigoted. They would no longer tolerate, to the same extent as before, the liberty of elaborating new systems, lest some successful philosopher might hereafter propagate opinions at variance with their own, undermine the mighty fabric of their creed, and endanger the holding of that absolute sway and paramount influence they had recovered, after centuries of a deadly contest with the disciples of the philosopher of Kapilawot.
[6] The preachings of Buddha were not to be confined to the narrow limits of man's abode; they were designed to reach much further. All beings living in the six seats of Nats were to share with men the blessings of the publication of the perfect law. It has been already stated at length, in a foregoing note, that the condition of Nats is merely a state of pleasure and enjoyment allotted to those who in former existences had done some meritorious work. The fortunate inhabitants of these celestial regions remain in those seats until the sum of their respective merits being, as it were, exhausted, they return to the abode of man, the true place of probation for all beings living therein. The condition of Nat, therefore, is not a permanent one; the Nat, after his time of reward is over, has to migrate to our terrestrial abode, begin a new existence, and endeavour to advance himself in the way of perfection by the practice of virtue. He is as yet very far from the state of Neibban. Like man, he has to learn the sublime law, and to become acquainted with the roads leading to the four high perfections. Buddha, who came to announce the law of salvation to all beings, could not but go to the seats of Nats, and teach them the way to free themselves from the turmoil of never-ending existence. The preachings of Buddha for three consecutive months were attended with a success that must have exceeded his most sanguine expectations. Millions of Nats were converted, and forthwith obtained the deliverance. Others less advanced in merits obtained the first, or second, or third state of perfection.
During his stay in the other seats of Nats, Buddha gave a decision on the merits of almsgiving, which is certainly to the advantage of the yellow-dressed Bickus, but appears somewhat opposed to all principles of justice and reason. In his opinion the inward dispositions of him who gives alms has nothing to do with the merits resulting from such a good work. Those merits are strictly proportionate to the degree of sanctity or perfection of him who receives alms. Such doctrine, destructive of the purest and noblest motives that can actuate man to do good, is openly upheld now both in theory and practice by the Buddhist monks. When they receive alms from the admirers of their saintly mode of life, they never think of returning thanks to those who so liberally administer to all their material wants; they content themselves with saying, Thadoo, thadoo; that is to say, Well, well; and the pious offerer withdraws perfectly satisfied and happy, relying on the merits he has gained on this occasion, and longing for another opportunity of doing the like. The liberality of the laity towards the religious is carried to an excess scarcely to be credited. Government do not interfere in the maintenance of the perfect, and yet they are abundantly supplied with all the necessaries, nay, the luxuries, of life. They live on the fat of the land.
That the crowds of people might be better prepared for hearing the sacred law and obtaining a correct understanding of it, Buddha charges Maukalan to a regular fast, or at least abstinence, carried to a considerable degree. A free and copious use of nourishing substances unfits man for mental exertions, occasions in him heaviness and supineness, enervates and weakens the vigour of the intellect, and gives to matter a preponderating influence over the soul. The advice will hold good everywhere, but it becomes particularly pressing and stringent when addressed to an audience of Buddhists, who require the full force of their mind to be able to understand the various bearings of a doctrine resting on the most abstruse principles, the end of which too is to disentangle the soul from the influence of materiality. Up to this day in Burmah there are some remnants of the observance of fast during the three months of Lent, when the law is oftener expounded to and better observed by religious people. The obligation of fasting during the days of the quarters of the moon is generally admitted, and some few observe it, if not always, at least from time to time. The generality of the Burmese people entirely disregard fasting.
Curious but interesting is the reply Buddha gave to Thariputra, who rejoiced exceedingly because men and Nats vied with each other in paying great honours to him. He unhesitatingly states: Blessed are all those who rejoice on his account. By this joy we ought not to understand the transient and momentary affection of the heart, elicited by some pleasing and agreeable occurrence; but the kind of joy alluded to is a rational, philosophical, and religious one, having its origin, first, in a full and perfect knowledge of Buddha's transcendent excellence, rendering his person an object of the highest admiration; and, second, in a lively confidence in his benevolence and goodness towards all beings, which urge him to labour for their deliverance from all miseries and their guidance to a state of peace and rest. Such a joy, diffused over the heart, creates an ardent love for Buddha and his doctrine; that affection rests, not on Buddha, as a mere individual, but on him who is the personification of a saviour of all beings. It implies faith in him and his preachings, as well as a strong confidence in his power and willingness to confer the greatest possible benefits. Hence there is no wonder to hear Buddha declaring all those blessed who on that solemn occasion rejoiced in him.
CHAPTER X.
Buddha's proceedings in the seat of Tawadeintha—His triumphant return to the seat of men, in the city of Thin-ka-tha—He is calumniated by the heretics of Thawattie—Eighth season spent in the forest of Tesakala—Subsequent preachings—He meets with a bad reception in the Kothambi country—Dissension among the disciples—Reconciliation—Travels of Buddha—Preaching to a Pounha who tilled a field.
While Buddha was in the seat of Tawadeintha all the Nats came from more than ten thousand worlds to his presence; but the glory that always encompasses their bodies disappeared, or was completely outshone by that of Buddha's person. His mother, a daughter of Nats, came from the seat of Toothita to see her son and hear his instructions. She sat on his right. Two sons of Nats stood by the right and left of his mother. The crowd was so great that it covered a surface of eighteen youdzanas. In that immense assembly two Nats were conspicuous by their particular demeanour and position. One of them stood so close to Buddha as to touch almost one of his knees, the other was standing in a respectful position afar off. Buddha asked the latter what he had done to deserve the place he occupied. He answered that, during former existences, he had made abundant alms indeed, but his merits had been comparatively small, because he had not done those good works to persons eminent for their sanctity. The same question was put to the other Nat, who said that he was, in a former existence, living in very narrow circumstances, but that he had had the good fortune of giving alms, according to his limited means, to persons who were much advanced in merits. With a voice that was heard by the crowds on the seat of men, Buddha proclaimed the immense advantage of giving alms to and supporting the Rahans and those advanced in perfection. They were, said he, like good seed sown on a good field, that yields an abundance of good fruits. But alms given to those who are as yet under the tyrannical yoke of passions are like a seed deposited in a bad soil; the passions of the receiver of alms choke, as it were, the growth of merits. At the conclusion, the two Nats obtained the reward of Thautapan. The crowds on earth had also the benefit of hearing his instructions.
Whilst Buddha was in the middle of the Nats, he announced the law of Abidama to his mother. Having to go about to get his food, Buddha created a likeness of another Buddha, whom he commissioned to continue the preaching of the Abidama. As to himself, he went to the mountain of Himawonta, ate the tender branches of a certain tree, washed his face in the lake Anawadat, and partook of the food he received from the Northern Island. Thariputra went thither to render him all necessary services. When he had eaten his meal, he called Thariputra, and desired him to go and preach the law of Abidama to five hundred Rahans, who were present when the display of wonders took place, and were much pleased with it. In the time of the Buddha Kathaba those five hundred Rahans were bats, living in a cave much resorted to by Rahans, who were wont to repeat the Abidama. Those bats contrived to retain a certain number of words, the meaning whereof they could not understand. When they died, they were transferred into one of the seats of Nats; and when they became men anew, they had the good fortune to be born from illustrious parents, in the country of Thawattie, and when Phra showed his powers, they were much pleased. They became Rahans under Thariputra, and were the first to understand perfectly the sublime law of Abidama.
As to Buddha, he returned to the seat of Tawadeintha and continued the instructions, where the Buddha of his creation had left them. At the end of three months' preaching, an innumerable number of Nats knew and understood the four great principles. As to his mother, she obtained the perfection of Thautapan.
The time when Buddha was to return to the seat of men was near at hand. The crowds, eager to know the precise time when Buddha was to come back among them, went to Maukalan to ascertain from him the precise day on which they would be blessed with his presence. "Well," said Maukalan to the people, "in a very short time I will give you an answer on the subject of your inquiry." That very instant he plunged to the bottom of the earth and reappeared, but when he was at the foot of the Mienmo mountain, he ascended, in the view of the crowd whom he had left, and soon arrived in the presence of Buddha, to whom he explained the object of his errand. "My son," answered Buddha, "in what country does your brother Thariputra spend his season?" "In the city of Thin-ka-tha," replied Maukalan. "Well," said Buddha, "seven days hence, at the full moon of Thadin-kioot (October), I will descend near the gate of Thin-ka-tha city; go and tell the people that those who desire to see me must go to that country, distant thirty youdzanas from Thawattie. Let no one take any provision; but by a rigorous abstinence let them dispose themselves to hear the law that I will preach." Maukalan, having paid his respects to Buddha, returned to the place where the assembled multitude anxiously waited for him. He related to them all the particulars regarding his interview with Buddha, and conveyed to them the much-wished-for intelligence of his speedy return on earth.
On the day of the full moon of Thadin-kioot (October), Buddha disposed himself to go down to the seat of men. He called a prince of Thagias and directed him to prepare everything for his descent. Complying with his request, the Thagia prepared three ladders or stairs, one made of precious stones, occupying the middle; one on the right made of gold; and a third, made of silver, on the left. The foot of each ladder rested on the earth, near to the gate of Thin-ka-tha city, and their summits leaned on the top of the Mienmo mountain. The middle ladder was for Buddha, the golden one for the Nats, and that of silver for the Brahmas. Having reached the summit of the steps, Buddha stopped awhile, and resolved to make a fresh display of his power. He looked upwards, and all the superior seats of Brahmas were distinctly descried; on his looking downwards, his eyes could see and plunge into the bottom of the earth to the lowest hell. The Nats of more than a thousand systems could see each other. Men could perceive Nats in their fortunate seats, and Nats saw men in their terrestrial abode. The six glories streamed forth with an incomparable splendour from Buddha's person, which became visible to all the crowds. There was not one who did not praise Buddha. Having the Nats on his right, and the Brahmas on his left, the most glorious Phra began his triumphant coming down. He was preceded by a Nat, holding a harp in his hands and playing the most melodious tunes; another Nat fanned him; a chief of Brahmas held over him a golden umbrella. Surrounded with that brilliant cortège, Buddha descended near the gate of Thin-ka-tha city, and stopped there for awhile. Thariputra came forthwith into the presence of Buddha, paid him his respects at a becoming distance, and said, with a heart overflowing with joy: "On this day, O most glorious Buddha, all the Nats and men are showing their love to you." Buddha replied: "Blessed is Thariputra, and blessed are all those who rejoice on my account. Men and Nats love him who is acquainted with the sublime law, who has put an end to his passions, and who has attained to the highest state of contemplation." At the end of his discourse, innumerable beings understood the four great principles, and the five hundred Rahans whom Thariputra was commissioned to instruct reached the state of Arahat. On the spot where all Buddhas set their feet, when coming from the seat of Tawadeintha, a dzedi[1] has always been erected.
Buddha, on leaving Thin-ka-tha, shaped his course towards Wethalie, and took his abode in the Dzetawon monastery. The fame of the wonders he had performed increased his reputation, and elicited from the people fresh tokens of respect and veneration. Alms poured from all quarters into the monastery; the liberality of the people towards his person and that of his disciples expanded in a wonderful manner. The heretics, who swarmed in Wethalie and its neighbourhood, became exceedingly jealous of Buddha's successes. The loss which they sustained in the donations of the people added fuel to the inward discontent. They resolved to devise some means to lower the character of Buddha in the opinion of the people. After a long deliberation, they fixed on the following plan:—A certain woman of great beauty, but of a rather doubtful character, was induced to join them in accusing Gaudama of having violated her. She contrived to assume the appearance of a person in a state of pregnancy, and, covering herself with a piece of red cloth, she went about the town spreading evil reports respecting Buddha's character. She had the impudence even to go into the Dzetawon monastery, and ask Buddha to provide a place for her approaching confinement, and likewise maintenance for herself and the child she was by him pregnant with. Such an infamous calumny did not, however, move him in the least. Conscious of his innocence, he lost nothing of his usual composure and serenity. But by the interference of the Thagia the slander was made manifest. Two mice bit the strings that kept tied up on the abdomen the apparatus designed to prop up the deceit, and, on a sudden, the whole fell on the ground, proclaiming at once the innocence of the sage and smiting his enemies with confusion.
Every one present on the occasion gave vent to his just indignation at such a base attempt on the part of the heretics. But Buddha meekly replied that what had just happened was a righteous retribution for a misbehaviour of his own during a former existence. At that time, he was on a certain day under the influence of liquor, when he chanced to meet on his way a Pitzegabuddha. Without any reason or provocation, he abused the holy man with the lowest and coarsest expressions, and went so far as to tell him that his whole life was but a series of hypocritical actions. Turning then towards his disciples, he added, with a grave countenance, that what they had now witnessed was the just punishment inflicted on him under the influence of the demerit created and generated by his former evil doing.
The eighth season was spent in the grove or forest of Tesakala, and when the rains were over, the most excellent Phra travelled throughout the country, preaching and teaching the right way to many. Countless converts entered one of the four ways, and many obtained at once the deliverance.
In the town of Santoo-maragiri, he was preaching to the benefactors who had fed him and his disciples. Among the hearers were two persons, Nakoulapita and Nakoulamata, husband and wife, belonging to the pounha race. During a great many successive former existences they had had the good fortune to be father, mother, uncle, aunt, &c., to Buddha. During the present existence the feeling of affection towards him with whom they had been so long and so intimately connected was powerfully awakened and glowed in their hearts. Under the influence of that natural, kindly, and tender feeling, they came forward, and prostrating themselves before Gaudama, said to him: "Dear son, how is it that you have been away from us for so long a while? We are so happy to see you after so long an absence." Buddha, remaining indifferent to such a scene and language, knew at once what were the real wants of that good couple, and in what manner he could acknowledge the great favours he had during former existences received at their hands. He preached to them the most excellent law. They were thoroughly converted. The next morning they had the happiness to supply their great teacher and his company with the choicest food. Meanwhile they addressed to him the following request: "During many existences we both have always been happily united: not a word of complaint or quarrel has ever passed between us. We pray that in our coming existences the same love and affection may ever unite us together." Their request was affectionately granted, and Buddha, in the presence of a large assembly, pronounced them blessed and happy amongst all men and women.
The son of the ruler of the country where these things happened was, to his great affliction, childless. He invited Buddha to come and partake of his hospitality in his house. The offer was accepted. Great preparations were made for the reception of the illustrious visitor. The prince had some of his own clothes laid on the way that Buddha was to follow, in the hope that by treading over them he might communicate a certain virtue, whereby he would have the object of his earnest desire realised. On his arrival near the entrance of the house, Buddha stopped and refused to proceed farther. Meanwhile, he beckoned Ananda to remove the clothes. This was done accordingly, to the prince's deep disappointment. After the meal, Gaudama explained to him that he and his wife during a former existence had lived on eggs and had killed many birds. Their present barrenness was the just punishment of their former trespassing; but their actual good dispositions having atoned for the past transgressions, they would be blessed with children. Both were overjoyed at this news. They believed in Buddha, obtained the state of Thautapan, and thereby entered into the current of perfection. Their faith in Buddha's word procured for them so happy a result.
During all the time that elapsed after the rain, Buddha travelled through the country, engaged on his usual benevolent errand, and converting many among men and Nats. In the country of Garurit, in a village of pounhas called Magoulia, the head man, one of the richest in the place, had a daughter whose beauty equalled that of a daughter of Nats. She had been in vain asked in marriage by princes, nobles, and pounhas. The proud damsel had rejected every offer. On the day that her father saw Gaudama, he was struck with his manly beauty and meek deportment. He said within himself: "This man shall be a proper match for my daughter." On his return home he communicated his views to his wife. On the following day, the daughter having put on her choicest dress and richest apparels, they all three went with a large retinue to the Dzetawon monastery. Admitted to the presence of Buddha, the father asked for his daughter the favour of being allowed to attend on him. Without returning a word of reply, or giving the least sign of acceptance or refusal, Buddha rose up and withdrew to a small distance, leaving behind him on the floor the print of one of his feet. The pounha's wife, well skilled in the science of interpreting wonderful signs, saw at a glance that the marks on the print indicated a man no longer under the control of passions, but a sage emancipated from the thraldom of concupiscence. She communicated her views to her husband, who had the impudence to go to Buddha's presence and renew the same offer. Buddha meekly replied: "Pounha, I neither accept nor decline your offer; in your turn, listen to what I have to say." He then went on to relate how he had left the world, resisted Manh's temptation, lived in solitude for six years, and freed himself from the net of passions. He concluded by stating that, having become a Buddha, he had for ever conquered all passions. At the conclusion of the instruction, both father and mother became established in the state of Thautapan. The damsel was highly offended at the refusal she experienced, and retained a strong feeling of hatred towards him who had declined her proffered favours. Her father took her into the Kothambi country, where she was offered to the ruler, who, smitten with her charms, elevated her to the rank of first queen.
In the country of Kothambi, there lived three rich men. These three men fed during the rainy season every year five hundred hermits, who came from the Himalaya range for the purpose of obtaining their maintenance. These charitable laymen went over to Wethalie for the purpose of trade. There they met Buddha, and earnestly pressed him to come to their country and preach the law. The invitation was accepted. They returned home, and built for the accommodation of the illustrious visitor each of them one monastery. When all was ready, Buddha went to Kothambi, attended by five hundred disciples. He spent there the ninth season. During his stay he dwelt by turns in each of the three monasteries, and was abundantly supported by the rich man in whose monastery he took his abode.
In the country of Kothambi there were as yet few disciples or believers in Buddha; but the number of holders of false doctrines was exceedingly great. Secretly supported by the first queen, and actuated by jealousy against the new-comer, they reviled him and his disciples in every possible way, and did their utmost to destroy in public opinion his rising fame. Whenever they met Buddha's disciples, they abused them with the coarsest language. Unable to bear any longer so many insults, Ananda, in the name of his brethren, went to Buddha, and asked him to remove to some other place, where they would receive a becoming treatment. "But," said Buddha, "if we be ill-treated in the new place we go to, what is to be done?" "We shall proceed to some other place," replied Ananda. "But," retorted Buddha, "if in that new place we be likewise reviled, what then?" "We shall," replied Ananda, "remove to some other place." Buddha remained silent for awhile, and, casting a gentle glance on Ananda, said to him: "A little patience will save us the trouble of so many travels, and certainly procure for us here what we may perhaps vainly look for anywhere else. By patience and endurance the wise man conquers all his enemies. Behold the war-elephant; he plunges into the thickest of the raging conflict, regardless of the darts and arrows flying in every direction, and carries all before him. I, too, the most excellent Buddha, shall certainly stay here, diligently preach the most excellent law, and perseveringly labour to disentangle men from the net of passions. In no way shall I care for the abuses they may pour on me and my disciples."
Not long after this a trifling accident kindled the fire of dissension among the members of the assembly. The subject was, as usual, of a trifling nature. It was concerning a point of discipline of scarcely any importance, infringed unintentionally by a Rahan. He was accused by one of his brethren of having committed a sin. But he replied that, having done an act in which his will had not participated, he did not consider himself guilty. Each disputant attracted to his party some religious who supported his view of the case. The Kothambi Rahans seem to have been the cause of the disunion which prevailed in the community, and soon, like a devouring flame, extended to the female portion of the assembly. In vain Gaudama interfered, and exhorted the two parties to patience, union, and charity. In his presence the parties were silent, but in his absence the quarrel grew worse. At last his entreaties were unheeded, and discord continued to rend asunder the bond of unity. Disgusted with such a state of things, Buddha preached to the most distinguished members of the assembly the blessings of peace and concord. Such men as Baddia, Kimila, and Anourouddha, treasured up in their heart the instructions of their great master. But others continued the dispute. Meanwhile he resolved to separate himself for a time from all company, and to go to a lonely spot to enjoy the happiness of peace and meditation. He shaped his course towards the village of Palelayaka, where he received his food, and went into a grove of sala-trees, to fix his residence at the foot of one of those trees. The villagers, hearing of his intention, hastened to the spot, and built a hermit's hut for his use, and promised to supply him daily with his food.
It was in this place that, delighting in the contemplation of unclouded truth, Gaudama spent the tenth season alone. The rich men of the Kothambi country, hearing that Buddha had departed because of the dissension that took place among the Rahans, became indignant. They openly declared their fixed intent of refusing to give anything for the maintenance of the Rahans, until they agreed among themselves, and became reconciled with their teacher. The timely threat had the desired effect. The disputants felt the unpleasant seriousness of their uneasy position. They could hold on no longer. The Rahans came to an agreement among themselves, and promised that after the season they would go to Buddha and solicit his pardon. In the forest of Paleliaka there lived a certain elephant, much advanced in merits, which went to Buddha, and, during three months, ministered to all his wants, as a most affectionate and devoted disciple would do towards a beloved master.
The three months of Lent being completed, the rich man Anatapein made earnest inquiries with Ananda, respecting the place Buddha had withdrawn to, and charged him to invite the great preacher to come back to Thawattie, and live as usual in the Dzetawon monastery. Complying with the pious wishes of the rich man, Ananda took with himself five hundred Rahans, and went to the solitude of Paleliaka. He was likewise followed by the five hundred refractory Rahans of Kothambi, who had come to Wethalie. The ruler of the country and Anatapein had refused at first to receive them. But the prohibition had been removed on account of their repentance. He approached alone the place where Buddha was living. After the usual prostrations, Gaudama inquired whether he had come alone. He replied that there were with him many of his faithful disciples and the Kothambi Rahans. The latter came with the express purpose of asking his pardon, and a firm resolution to yield henceforward a perfect obedience to all his commands. Buddha desired them to appear in his presence. They came, were there well received, and their misbehaviour was forgiven. Gaudama explained to them the great advantage of shunning bad company and of living in retirement. The hearers were fully converted and established in the state of Thautapan. Buddha, on his return to Wethalie, continued preaching in every direction, and led to the deliverance a great number of men, Nats, and Brahmas. The stay in the Dzetawon monastery was not very long. Buddha went into the Magatha country, to a pounha village, named Nala. Not far from that village there is the Deckinagiri, or southern mountain, with a monastery. In that place Buddha spent the eleventh season.[2] His supporters were the pounhas of the village. The chief occupation of those men was the tillage of the fields. Gaudama took a particular pleasure during his daily walks in conversing with them, when he met them engaged in their daily labours.
One day Buddha went into the fields, where he met a pounha, with whom he began to converse, in the intention of ultimately preaching to him the holy law. He spoke at first on the subject of his daily labour, his bullocks, his plough, the seed, and the harvest, which supplied the pounha and his family with their daily food during the year. He added: "I, too, am a labourer, provided with the seed and all the implements necessary for carrying on tillage." The pounha, surprised at what he heard, asked Buddha in what place he had left his bullocks, the seed, the plough, &c. The latter coolly replied: "All these things are with me at present. Hearken, O pounha, to what I am about to state. The seed is that fervent desire, that benevolent disposition, which prompted me at the foot of the Buddha Deipinkara to ask for the Buddhaship: it is the science which I have gathered under the tree Bodi. The rain water is that uninterrupted series of good works performed by me, until I have become a Buddha. They have been as the means of watering the good seed which was in me. The knowledge, or science, and wisdom are as the yoke, as well as the plough-shaft. The heart, or the knowing principle which is in me, represents the reins that serve to guide the bullocks. The teeth of the plough represent the diligence that must be used in attending to the eradicating of the principle of demerits and of bad works. The plough-handle represents the guiding principle of the law, which enables me to remove all that is bad, and promote what is good. The food which you, O pounha, derive from your exertions, represents the pure relish which is tasted by him who is bent on avoiding evil and doing good. When you make use of the plough, you cut or uproot all bad weeds. So it is with him who is penetrated with the full meaning of the four great truths; he cuts and uproots from himself the wicked inclinations and low propensities that are in him. When the labour of the field is over, you unyoke your bullocks and leave them to go whithersoever they please; so it is with the wise man. By application to invigorating the principle of good that leads to perfection, he lets go the opposite principle which gives rise to all imperfections. The bullocks have to work hard to complete the work of tillage. So the sage has to struggle hard, to till perfectly and cultivate thoroughly the soil of his own being, and reach the happy state of Neibban. The husbandman who labours so much for bringing his field into a position to receive the seed, and in every way to favour its growth, is imitated by the true sage who endeavours to free himself from the miseries attending existence, to advance in the way of merits by the practice of good works, and who thirsts after the happy condition of the perfect. He who works in the field is sometimes disappointed, and feels occasionally the pangs of hunger. He who works in the field of wisdom is exempt from all miseries and afflictions. He eats the fruit of his labour. He is fully satiated when he beholds Neibban. It is in this manner, O pounha, that I am a true husbandman, and am always provided with all the implements necessary for the tillage of man's soul." The pounha, delighted with such doctrine, became a convert, and professed his belief in Buddha, the law, and the assembly. Subsequently he applied for admittance into the assembly, and by energetic efforts in the arduous work of meditation, he became at last a Rahanda.
When the rains were over, Buddha travelled through the country, preaching the most excellent law, with the happiest results. He went to the town of Satiabia, in the Kosala country. There he received from a pounha of Waritzaba an invitation to go to that place. The invitation was graciously accepted. In that town he spent the twelfth season. A great many pounhas were enlightened and converted by professing their firm adherence to the three precious things. The vile Manh Nat did his utmost to thwart the beneficial results of Buddha's preachings. A great dearth prevailing in the country, he did all that he could to starve the most excellent Buddha and all his followers. But he was frustrated in his iniquitous design by the charity of five hundred horse merchants, who had come from Outharapata, and were then staying in Waritzaba.
Buddha, leaving this country, shaped his course through the great Mantala country; he travelled by the shortest route, a distance of 500 youdzanas. He started on the day after the full moon of Tabodway, and spent nearly five months in this voyage. He reached the banks of the Ganges at Gayagati, where he crossed the mighty stream and went to Benares. He had not been long in that city, when he recrossed the Ganges and went to Wethalie, dwelling in the Gootagarathala monastery. Thence he went into Thawattie, preaching through all the places he visited. When he was in the Dzetawon monastery, he delivered the Maha Rahula instruction for the benefit of his son Rahula, who then was eighteen years old.