On the occasion of the Buddha’s Neibban, the chief of Brahmas uttered the following stanzas:—“O Rahans, the great Buddha who has appeared in this world, who knew everything, who was the teacher of Nats and men, who stood without an equal, who was mighty and knew all laws and all the great principles, the most excellent and glorious Buddha, is gone to Neibban. Where is the being who shall ever escape death? All beings in this world must be divested of their terrestrial and mortal frame.”
The chief Thagia, on the same occasion, repeated aloud the following words:—“O Rahans, the principle of mutability is opposed to the principle of fixity. It carries with it the elements of creation and destruction. There is no happiness but in the state of Neibban, which puts an end to all changes.”
The great Anoorouda said in his turn: “O Rahans, the most excellent Buddha, free from all passions, has entered, by this death, into the state of Neibban. He whose soul, ever firm and unshaken, was a stranger to impatience and fear, has gone out from the whirlpool of existences, and is no longer subject to the coming into existence and to the going out therefrom. Passions have no more influence upon him. He is disengaged from the trammels of mutability, and has ended like the light of a lamp, the oil of which is exhausted.”
Ananda added: “O Rahans, when the great Buddha, full of the most transcendent excellencies, attained the state of Neibban, the earth quaked with that violence which fills the soul with fear, and causes the hair of the head to stand on an end.”
After the demise of Buddha, the Rahans that had reached the two states of Thautapan and Thakadagan, lifting to the forehead their joined hands, began to wail and loudly lament. Men threw themselves down on the ground, bitterly lamenting the loss the world had sustained. They all exclaimed, “The glorious and illustrious Buddha has too soon gone to Neibban. He who never spoke but good and instructive words, he who has been the light of the world, has gone too soon to Neibban.” In these and other words they gave utterance to their grief and affliction, with tears and lamentations. The Rahans who had reached the two last states of perfection, the Anagans and Rahandas, more calm and steady in their mind, were satisfied with repeating in solemn tones, “There is nothing fixed in the principle of mutability. Buddha, entering in the current of change, could not but die; his body was to be destroyed.” They remained meditating on this great truth, retaining an unchangeable and calm composure.
Anoorouda, assembling together all the Rahans, said to them, “Cease now to weep and lament; banish sorrow and affliction from your hearts; remember presently what the most excellent Buddha has told us, that all that exists is liable to destruction, which it can never escape. What will become of Nats and men? What will they say when they see the Rahans delivered up to grief, and giving vent to it in loud wailings?”
Ananda inquired from Anoorouda what actually took place among the Nats on the occasion of the death of the great Buddha. He was told that some of them, lifting up the joined hands to the forehead, loudly wept and lamented; but others more wise, bearing in mind what Buddha had said on the subject of the principle of mutability, remained wrapt up in a solemn and resigned composure of mind. Anoorouda spent the remainder of the night in preaching the law. He said to Ananda, “Go now to the city of Kootheinaron, say to the Malla princes that the great Buddha is gone to Neibban; that they ought to dispose everything for the funeral.” At daybreak Ananda put on his tsiwaran, and, taking his patta, went alone to the city. He met the princes assembled in the public hall, deliberating on what was to be done when Phra should have gone to Neibban. He said to them, “O princes of the Wathita race, the great Buddha has gone to Neibban; the moment is come for you to go to the spot where are his mortal remains.” When the princes heard this sad news from the mouth of Ananda, they, with their wives and children, began to wail and lament, and give all the marks of the deepest grief, unceasingly repeating, “The most excellent Buddha, who was infinitely wise and knew all laws, has too soon gone to Neibban.” The princes, now selecting one of their family, directed him to go throughout the city and collect all the richest and rarest perfumes, to keep in readiness the drums, harps, flutes, and all other musical instruments, and have them carried to the place where the remains of Buddha were lying. Having reached the spot, the princes began to make offerings of flowers and perfumes with the greatest profusion, in the midst of dancings, rejoicings, and the uninterrupted sounds of all the musical instruments. A temporary canopy was erected with the finest pieces of cloth, and they remained under it during seven consecutive days. After this lapse of time, eight of the youngest and strongest princes, having washed their heads and put on their finest and best dresses, prepared to carry the corpse to a place situated in the south of the city, where they intended to have it burned. In spite of their united efforts, they could not remove it from the place it was laid on. Anoorouda, consulted on the subject of this extraordinary and unexpected occurrence, said, “O princes, your intent does not agree with that of the Nats. You wish, after having performed all ceremonies about the corpse, to carry it to a certain place in the south of the city; but the Nats will not agree to this; they intend to accompany the corpse with music, dancings, singings, and offerings of flowers and perfumes. They desire that the corpse should be carried to the western side of the city, thence to the northern one, afterwards to re-enter through the northern gate, and go to the middle square; thence to sally forth, through the eastern one, and take the body to the place called Makula-bandan, where the Malla princes are wont to assemble for their festivals and rejoicings.” “Let it be done,” answered all the princes, “according to the wishes of the Nats.”
The funeral procession then set out.[24] The Nats in the air honoured the corpse with their music, singing, and the showering down of flowers and perfumes. Men did the same all round the corpse. The way which the procession slowly moved through was strewed with the finest and choicest flowers. When the cortège had reached the centre of the city, the widow of General Bandoola, named Mallika, hearing of the approach of the funeral procession, took a magnificent piece of cloth, called Mahalatta, which she had never worn since her husband’s death. She perfumed it with the choicest essences, and, holding it in her hands until the procession reached the front of her house, she desired the bearers to wait for a while, that she might offer to the body her beautiful piece of cloth, and extend it over it. Her request was granted. By a very happy chance, the cloth had the desired dimensions in breadth and length. Nothing could equal the magnificent sight of the body; it looked beautiful, like a statue of gold, when covered with that splendid cloth, finely worked and adorned with the richest embroidery. The cortège having reached the place Matulabandana, where the funeral pile was erected, the corpse was lowered down. The princes inquired from Ananda what was to be done to perform in a becoming manner the last rites over Buddha’s remains. Faithful to the last request of Buddha, Ananda said to them that on this occasion they were to observe the same ceremonies as were prescribed for the funerals of a Tsekiawade prince. The body was forthwith wrapt up with a fine cloth, covered with a thick layer of cotton; to which a second succeeded, and then another layer of cloth, and so on, until the same process was repeated five hundred successive times. When this was done, the corpse was placed in a golden coffin, and another of the same form and size was turned over it as a covering. A funeral pile, made with fragrant wood and sprinkled with the choicest perfumes, was prepared. Upon it the coffin was pompously deposited.
At that time, the great Kathaba, attended by five hundred Rahans, was going from the city of Pawa to the city of Kootheinaron. On their way, at noon, the heat was so excessive that the soil appeared to burn like fire under their feet. The Rahans, extremely fatigued, desired to rest during the remainder of the day, intending to enter the city of Kootheinaron during the cool of the night. Kathaba withdrew to a small distance from the road, and, having extended his dugout under the shade of a large tree, rested upon it, refreshing himself by washing his hands and feet with water poured from a vessel. The Rahans followed the example of their chief, and sat down under the trees of the forest, conversing among themselves upon the blessings and advantages of the three precious things. Whilst they were resting, a heretic Rahan appeared, coming from the city of Kootheinaron, on his way to that of Pawa, carrying in his hand a stick, at the extremity of which there was a large flower, round like a broad cupboard, forming as it were an umbrella over his head. Kathaba perceiving the man at a distance with that extraordinary flower, the Mandawara, Erithrina fulgens, thought within himself, “It is very rare ever to see such a kind of flower; it appears only through the miraculous power of some extraordinary personage and on great and rare occasions. It shot forth when my illustrious teacher entered his mother’s womb, when he was born, when he became Buddha, wrought miracles at Thawattie, and came down from the seat of Tawadeintha. Now that my great master is very old, the appearance of this flower indicates that he has gone to Neibban.” Whereupon he rose from his place, wishing to question the traveller; but he desired to do it in such a way as to show his great respect for the person of Buddha. He put on his cloak, and, with his joined hands raised over his forehead, went to the traveller and asked him whether he knew his great teacher, the most excellent Buddha. The ascetic answered that he knew him well; but that seven days ago he had reached the state of Neibban, and it was from the place where this occurrence happened that he had brought the Mandawara flower. He had scarcely said this word, when those among the Rahans who had but entered into the two first ways of perfection began to wail and loudly lament over this untimely occurrence, exhibiting every sign of the deepest grief and greatest desolation. The others that were more advanced in perfection remained calm and composed, remembering the great maxim of Buddha, that everything that has come into existence must also come to an end.
The name of this heretic was Thoubat.[25] He had been previous to his apparent conversion a hermit, leading an ascetic’s life. Subsequently he became a disciple of Gaudama, but retained in his heart an ill feeling towards his spiritual master, which revealed itself in the manner he communicated the sad news to Kathaba and his companions. Seeing them penetrated with the deepest affliction, and exhibiting in an unfeigned manner the grief which weighed on their heart, he said to them: “Why do you weep and cry? You have no reason for doing so; we are now freed from the control of the great Rahan. He was always telling us: Do this, or do not do that. In every way he annoyed and vexed us. Now every one can act as he pleases.”