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 pa.s.sions of a coa.r.s.er nature and less delicate tinge. The conduct of the elder Kathaba fully bears out the truth and correctness of the above a.s.sertion.

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 pa.s.sions. 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 pa.s.sion, 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 ill.u.s.trious 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 sh.e.l.l newly cleansed." Pimpathara, placing himself at the head of 120,000 warriors, surrounded by crowds of n.o.bles 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 att.i.tude; some were praising his ill.u.s.trious 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, n.o.blemen, 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 pa.s.sions. 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 pa.s.sions, the practice of excellent works, and the ways to perfection. At the conclusion of these instructions, the king and 100,000 of the a.s.sembly, 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, "Ill.u.s.trious 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. .h.i.therto 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 a.s.sembly 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, a.s.suming 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 pa.s.sions; 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 pa.s.sions; 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 a.s.suredly prove agreeable to Buddha."

Whereupon he rose up, and, holding in his hand a golden sh.e.l.l 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 mult.i.tudes 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 n.o.ble 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 a.s.suredly 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 ill.u.s.trious 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 pa.s.sions, and to the mind; it makes man despise all that is material, conquer his pa.s.sions, and regulate his mind." On hearing this doctrine, Oopathi felt the ties of pa.s.sions 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 a.s.sembled 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 a.s.sembly. 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 a.s.sembly. 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 a.s.sembled 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 ill.u.s.trious friends received in the time of the Buddha Anaumadathi may be read, with circ.u.mstantial 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.

FOOTNOTES

[1] The philosophical discourse of Buddha on the mountain may be considered as the summary of his theory of morals. It is confessedly very obscure and much above the ordinary level of the human understanding. The hearers whom he addressed were persons already trained up to his teaching, and therefore prepared for understanding such doctrines. Had he spoken in that abstruse style to common people, it is certain he would have missed his aim and exposed himself to the chance of not being understood. But he addressed a select audience, whose minds were fully capable of comprehending his most elevated doctrines. He calls his disciples Bickus, or mendicants, to remind them of the state of voluntary poverty they had embraced when they became his followers, and to impress their minds with contempt for the riches and pleasures of this world.

He lays it down as a great and general principle that all that exists resembles a flame that dazzles the eyes by its brilliancy and torments by its burning effects. Here appears the favourite notion of Buddhism that there is nothing substantial and real in this world, and that the continual changes and vicissitudes we are exposed to are the cause of painful sensations. Buddha reviews the six senses (the heart, according to his theory, is the seat of a sixth sense) in succession, and as they are the channels through which affections are produced on the soul, he compares to a burning flame the organs of the senses, the various objects of the action of the senses, the results painful or agreeable produced by them. Hence he fulminates a general and sweeping condemnation against all that exists out of man. The senses, being the means through which matter influences the soul, share in the universal doom. Buddha sets forth the causes productive of that burning flame. They are--first, the three great and general principles of demerits, viz., concupiscence, anger, and ignorance. In the book of Ethics these three principles are explained at great length; they are represented as the springs from which flow all other pa.s.sions. In a lengthened digression the author aims at simplifying the question, and endeavours to show, by a logical process, that ignorance is the head source from which concupiscence and pa.s.sion take their rise. It is, therefore, according to Buddhists, into the dark recess of ignorance that metaphysicians must penetrate in order to discover the first cause of all moral disorders. Every being has his mind more or less encompa.s.sed by a thick mist that prevents him from seeing truth. He mistakes good for evil, right for wrong; he erroneously clings to material objects that have no reality, no substance, no consistence; his pa.s.sions are kept alive by his love or hatred of vain illusions. The flame is, moreover, fed by birth, old age, death, afflictions, &c., which are as many _foci_ wherefrom radiate out on all surrounding objects fires which keep up the general conflagration. But they play only a secondary action, dependent on the three great causes of all evils just alluded to. What causes birth, old age, and death? inquires the Buddhist. The law of merits and demerits is the immediate answer to the question; it might be added thereto, the necessity of acquiring merits and gravitating towards perfection. A man is born to innumerable succeeding existences by virtue of his imperfections, and that he might acquire fresh merits by the practice of virtue. By birth, a being is ushered into a new existence or into a new state, where the burning flame which is supposed to spread over all that exists exercises its teasing and tormenting influence over him. Old age and death are two periods when a radical change operates upon a being, and places him in a different situation where he experiences the baneful effects of the conflagration. "Blessed are they," says Buddha, "who understand this; they are full of wisdom; they become displeased with all pa.s.sions and with all the things they act upon. The causes of existences being done away with, they have reached the terminus of all possible existences; one step more and they find themselves placed beyond the influence of the power of attraction that retains forcibly all beings in the vortex of existences, and brings them towards the centre of perfection; they are in fact entering into the state of Neibban."

[2] From the purport of Kathaba's reply to Buddha's question, it may be inferred with certainty that the Rathees were in the habit of making sacrifices or burnt-offerings. These sacrifices again were distinguished into two cla.s.ses; the one, including the small or daily ones, and the other, the great burnt-offerings, made on solemn occasions. That these sacrifices were not performed by the killing and immolating of animals, there can be no doubt, as such an act would have been contrary to the tender regard they always had for the life of animals.

The inst.i.tutes of Menu come to our help to elucidate this point.

The Brahmin is enjoined, according to that compilation of laws, to make burnt-offerings of clarified b.u.t.ter and other articles to the manes of his ancestors. Agreeably to this regulation, Kathaba performed those rites, which, in the opinion of Buddha, were perfectly useless, since they could not be the means of elevating the performer to the knowledge and perfection requisite for obtaining what he always calls _per excellence_ the deliverance.

Kathaba is rather obscure in his answer. It seems that he intended to acknowledge that, notwithstanding the sacrifices and burnt-offerings he had made, and upon the value of which he had laid much stress, concupiscence and other vicious propensities were still deeply rooted in him; that, through the channel of his senses, exterior objects continued to make impressions on his soul. He had, therefore, become disgusted with practices which could not free him from the action and influence of pa.s.sions and matter.

In the opinion of Buddha, the observance of exterior religious rites can never elevate man to the sublime knowledge of pure truth, which alone does confer real perfection to him who has become a true sage, and is deemed worthy of obtaining the deliverance. A serious application of the mind to the meditation of the law and the nature of beings, is the only way leading to the acquirement of true wisdom. As long as Kathaba was contented with material acts of worship, and his mind's attention was engrossed with those vain ceremonials, he had not as yet entered in the way of perfection. He had hitherto missed the true path; he had wandered in the broad road of error, encompa.s.sed by mental darkness, and deceived by perpetual illusions. His extensive knowledge had served but to lead him in the wrong direction. He wanted the guidance of Buddha to enable him to retrace his steps and find the right way. He had to become sensible of the truth of the great fundamental maxims of all real wisdom, viz., that in this world all is subjected to change and to pain; and that all beings are mere illusions, dest.i.tute of all reality.

[3] To complete what has already been stated respecting the Ariahs or venerables in a foregoing note, the following is added. The reader must bear in mind that the Ariahs are divided into four cla.s.ses, named--Thautapan, Thakadagam, Anagam, and Arahats, and according to the particular position occupied by the beings of those states, each cla.s.s is subdivided into two: Thus, for instance, Thautapatti Megata means he who has entered and is walking, as it were, in the way of the perfection of Thautapan; and Thautapatti-pho indicates those who enjoy the merits and blessings of the state of Thautapan; and so with the three superior stages of perfection. To obtain the state of Thautapan, a man must have left the direction followed up by all creatures and entered into the direction or way that leads to deliverance. He will have yet to go through 80,000 kaps or durations of worlds, and must be born seven times more in the state of man and Nat before he be a perfected being, ripe for the state of Neibban. Those who have reached the state of Thakadagam shall have to pa.s.s through 60,000 kaps, and be born once in the state of Nat and once in the state of man, before they be perfected. Those who have obtained the third step of Anagam have to travel through 40,000 kaps, and are no more to undergo the process of birth at the end of that period they are perfected. The fourth stage of perfection, that of Arahat, is the highest a being can ever obtain. The fortunate Arahat is gifted with supernatural powers. At the end of 20,000 kaps he is perfected, and reaches the state of deliverance. Those four states are often called the four great roads leading to deliverance or to Neibban. It may be asked whether the state of Thautapan is the first step reached by every one that adheres to Buddha's doctrines or whether it is the one that requires a certain progress in the way of believing and practising? It seems, from the narrative of the conversion of King Pimpathara and his followers, that the state of Thautapan is the reward of those who have shown a more than common proficiency and fervour in adhering to Buddha and his doctrines, but not the first step to enter into the a.s.sembly of the faithful and become a member thereof. One may be a simple hearer, or Upathaka, believing in the three precious things, without attaining that of Thautapan.

On this occasion, the king and 100,000 of his warriors and n.o.blemen became Thautapans, whereas the remaining 10,000 became believers and members of the a.s.sembly without reaching any further. The first entered into the stream or current leading to perfection. The latter were fervent believers, observed the five precepts, but in no way aspired to the attainment of the doctrines of a higher order.

[4] Is not that young man doing the duty of forerunner of Buddha on the occasion of his solemn entry into the city of Radzagio?

The narrative of the donation of the grove or garden of Weloowon by King Pimpathara to Buddha, discloses the manner in which Buddhistic monks have become holders, not as individuals, but as members of society, of landed properties. Buddha and his disciples at first had no place as a body or a society to live in; hitherto he had taken up his quarters in any place where people were willing to receive him. He must have often been put to great inconvenience, particularly after the accession of new disciples, who daily crowded about him. The pious king felt the disadvantage the society was labouring under: he resolved to give them a place where the a.s.sembly might live and remain. The donation was as solemn as possible. It transferred to Buddha the property of the garden, without any condition, for ever. The donation, on the other hand, was fully accepted. This is, I believe, the first instance of an act of this description. The grove and monastery of Weloowon is much celebrated in Buddha's life.

In Burmese towns a particular spot is allowed for the building of houses or monasteries for Buddhistic recluses or monks. It is somewhat isolated from all other buildings, and forms, as it were, the quarter of the yellow-dressed personages. Here is a general description of one of these buildings. They are of an oblong-square shape, raised about eight or ten feet above the ground, and supported on wooden posts, and sometimes, though seldom, on brick pillars. The frame of the edifice is of wood, and planks form the wall. Above the first roof rises a second one of smaller dimensions, and a third one, yet smaller than the second. This style of roofing a building is allowed only for paG.o.das, Talapoins' houses, and royal palaces. The place between the soil and the floor is left open and never converted to any use. A flight of steps, made of wood or bricks, leads to the entrance of the edifice, the interior whereof is generally divided as follows:--One vast hall designed for the reception of visitors, and used also as a schoolroom for the boys who go to learn the rudiments of reading, writing, and sometimes ciphering. Except on grand occasions, the Talapoins generally stay in that hall, doing away with their time in the best way they can, occasionally reading books, counting their beads, chewing betel, and very often sleeping. At the extremity of the hall there is a place raised one or two steps above the level. A portion of that place is left vacant, and reserved for the sittings of the Talapoins, when they receive visitors; the other portion, which extends to the wall, is occupied by idols or representations of Buddha, raised on pedestals, and sometimes placed on shelves, with the few implements required for exterior worship. There, too, are to be seen a few trunks ornamented with sculptures and gildings, and containing books belonging to the monastery. The hall and the place as far as the walls occupy just one-half of the oblong-square. The other half, parallel to the first, is occupied by rooms intended for the storing of alms, and as dormitories for the inmates of the house. In some, monasteries the ceiling is painted and partly gilt. The cook-room, when there is one, is connected with the extremity of the square opposite to the one occupied by the idols. It is generally on the same level with the floor of the building.

Government has nothing to do with the erection, repairs, and maintenance of these edifices. They are erected and kept up by private individuals, who deem it very meritorious to build such places. Those whose piety actuates and prompts them to undertake such an expensive work a.s.sume the t.i.tle of Kiaong Taga, which means supporter of a paG.o.da or Talapoins' residence. They are proud of such distinction, cause themselves to be called by that t.i.tle, and always make it to follow their names in signing any paper or doc.u.ment.

The above descriptive sketch of a monastery is rather incomplete, if applied to those found in the large places of Burmah proper, and particularly in the capital. Some of them are laid out on a scale of vastness and magnificence difficult to realise by those who have not examined them. A large open gallery runs all round the building; a second one of a rectangular shape, but protected by the roof, forms, as it were, on the four sides the _vestibulum_ to the central portion of the edifice. It is the place where the Phongies spend the greater part of their time, either in talking with the numerous idlers that visit them, or in teaching children. Large shutters separate this from the open verandah; they may be thrown all open by pushing forward the lower part, the upper one remaining fixed by hinges, and so may be opened to the height required to protect the inmates from the rain and the sun. The central hall, by far the finest and loftiest of the building, is reserved for the idols and all the implements of worship, and the boxes containing the books of the monastery, commonly put together in a very disordered way. The ceiling is gilt and adorned, often with taste and elegance. A part.i.tion divides the hall into two equal parts. The one towards the east is for some huge statue of Gaudama, and smaller ones with many articles of worship. The other, facing the south, is used for several purposes; sometimes as dormitories for the Talapoins. The posts supporting the interior part are six or eight in number, and offer the finest specimens of teak timber I have ever seen, some being fully sixty and seventy feet high. In some of these monasteries the best parts of the interior are gilt, and sometimes the exterior sides; the ornaments of the extremities of the roof and the s.p.a.ce between the roofs are covered with gold leaves. In those two places too are displayed carvings, which reflect great credit on the skill of native workmen, and elicit the admiration of foreigners. One of these monasteries called the kioung-dau-gye, near the place where the Arracan idol is, and another close to the place where the supreme head of Talapoins is living, are the finest and largest specimens of monasteries the writer has ever seen in Burmah.

[5] On the occasion of the presentation to Buddha of the Weloowon monastery, and of the lands attached to it, by King Pimpathara, there was observed a curious ceremony, often alluded to in Buddhist writings. He held in his hands a golden pitcher full of water, which he kept pouring down on the ground, whilst he p.r.o.nounced the formula of donation. This is a ceremony of Indian origin, which, with many others, has been imported into these parts along with the religious doctrines. It is intended to be an exterior sign of, or testimony to, the offering that is made on the occasion. When it is performed, the parties p.r.o.nounce a certain formula, calling the Nats, guardians of the place, to witness the act of donation, and, in particular, the Nat that is supposed to rule over the earth; and at the same time the offerer, not satisfied with receiving for his own benefit the merits of his pious liberality, expresses the earnest desire that all men, or rather all beings, should share with him in the blessings he expects to reap from his good deed.

The generous and liberal disposition of the donor, it may be observed, exhibits the truly pleasing display of an amount of charity and brotherly love scarcely to be expected from the followers of an erroneous creed. The ceremony, therefore, has a twofold object, conferring unreserved and absolute efficiency on the act of donation, and dividing or apportioning the merits of the good work among all beings.

In perusing attentively the contents of this legend, the reader will easily follow the gradual development of the Buddhist religious system, and, in particular, the establishment of most of the disciplinary regulations in full force in our own days in most of the countries where that form of religion has obtained a long standing and a predominating footing. At first the religious that const.i.tuted the body of the followers of Buddha were few, and could easily, in the company of their eminent teacher, procure, in accordance with the vow of strict poverty they had made, shelter, food, and raiment. There was no need for them to accept, in the shape of donation, anything beyond what was absolutely necessary for the wants of the day. We may conjecture that their leader watched with a jealous care over his religious on this point, to establish them in the spirit of poverty and of a thorough contempt for the things of this world.

But the society or fraternity growing numerous, the dependence on the daily offerings appeared not to meet in sufficient manner the real necessities it felt, particularly as regards shelter.

This want was quickly perceived and keenly felt by the pious King Pimpathara, who came to the resolution of presenting Buddha and his followers with a proper place to withdraw to at all times, but particularly during the wet season, when the pouring of the annual rains puts a check of four months to the religious peregrinations of the preachers. The same motives that induced Buddha to accept the proffered royal gift influenced him likewise to grant to his religious the dangerous, it is true, but the absolutely necessary permission of receiving offerings of houses and lands. From that time, the religious communities have made use of the privilege granted to them in all the places where they have been established. In Burmah this favour has not been abused, and the religious body, though never standing in want of anything required for the daily use, cannot be said to be wealthy. Having not to cast in the scales of the political balance the weight of riches, and the preponderance essentially attending the possession of them, their influence in the political affairs is not, at least exteriorly, felt.

[6] In his Archaeological Survey Report, General Cunningham has supplied us with an accurate description of the position and ruins of the celebrated city of Radzagio. His own measurements of the old ramparts, that are still visible, agree to a surprising degree with those of the two Chinese pilgrims, Fa-Hian and Hwen-Tsan, who visited the same spot in the fourth and sixth century of our era. The city was situated in a valley, surrounded by five hills, which are named Gigakuta, Isigli, Wibhara, Wipula, and Pandawa. It was five miles in circ.u.mference. This is meant for the circuit of the inner wall.

The exterior one was nearly nine miles. On the southern face of the Wibhara mountain is the famous cave at the entrance of which was held the first Buddhist council, not long after the cremation of Buddha's remains. There is no doubt that the heights were, in the palmy days of Buddhism, covered with Buddhistic monuments. As the place was subsequently occupied by Brahmins and Mussulmans, the Dzedis and monasteries have been mercilessly pulled down to furnish materials for musjids, tombs, and temples. The eminences are now covered with Mussulman tombs, which occupy the places formerly adorned with paG.o.das. Springs of hot water were numerous in the vicinity of the city. The writer has only met once in Buddhistic compositions an allusion to that natural phenomenon so beneficial to people living in hot climates. The modern Rajghir, both by name and situation, brings to our recollection the celebrated capital of Magatha, so famous in Buddhistic annals. As the extent of Radzagio has been so accurately determined by ancient and modern visitors, one can well afford to laugh at the immensely exaggerated number of houses that are supposed by certain Burmese writers to have composed the city.

CHAPTER VIII.

_Thoodaudana, desirous to see his son, sends messengers to him -- They become converts -- Kaludari, a last messenger, prevails on Buddha to go to Kapilawot -- His reception -- Conversion of the king and of Yathaudara -- Nanda and Raoula put on the religious habit -- Conversion of Ananda and of several of his relatives -- Temptation of Ananda -- Conversion of Eggidatta -- Story of Tsampooka._

Whilst the most excellent Phra remained in the Weloowon monastery, enjoying himself in the midst of his disciples and the crowds of hearers that daily resorted thither to listen to his preachings, his father Thoodaudana[1] who had ever been anxiously and sedulously gathering every possible information respecting his son, from the time he withdrew into solitude, and performed during six years the hardest works of bodily mortification, was then informed that his son had already begun to preach the most perfect law, and was actually staying in the city of Radzagio. He felt then an irresistible desire to see him once more before his death. He therefore ordered a n.o.bleman of his court into his presence, and said to him: "n.o.bleman, take with you a retinue of a thousand followers, and go forthwith to the city of Radzagio. Tell my son that I am now much advanced in years, that I long to see him once more before I die; desire him, therefore, to come over with you to the country of Kapilawot." The n.o.bleman, having received the royal message, took leave from the king, and attended by a thousand followers, set out for Radzagio. When he drew near to the Weloowon monastery, he found it crowded with an innumerable mult.i.tude of people, listening with a respectful attention to Buddha's instructions. Unwilling to disturb the audience, the n.o.bleman delayed for a while the delivery of his royal master's message. Halting at the verge of the crowd, he, with his followers, eagerly lent the utmost attention to all that Buddha was saying. They at once obtained the state of Arahat, and applied for admission into the order of Rahans. The favour was granted. To obtain pattas and tsiwarans for so great a number of applicants, Buddha stretched his right arm, when there appeared at once the pattas and dresses required. The new converts put on the dress of their order, when they all appeared with the dignified countenance and meek deportment of Rahans who had had sixty years of profession. Having arrived at the exalted state of Ariahs, they became indifferent and unconcerned about all the things of this material world, and the king's mandate was entirely lost sight of.

The sovereign of Kapilawot, seeing that his n.o.bleman did not return from the country of Magatha,[2] and that no news was heard of him, despatched a second messenger with an equal number of followers on the same errand. They all were taken up with Buddha's preachings and became Rahandas. The same thing happened to seven messengers successively sent to Radzagio for the same purpose. They, with their respective retinues, became converts of the first cla.s.s.

Disappointed at seeing that none of the messengers had returned to bring him any news regarding his son, King Thoodaudana exclaimed: "Is there no one in my palace that bears any affection unto me? Shall I not be able to get a person who could procure for me some information respecting my son?" He looked among his courtiers and selected one, named Kaludari, as the fittest person for such a difficult errand. Kaludari had been born on the same day as Buddha: with him he had spent the age of his infancy, and lived on terms of the most sincere friendship. The king said to him: "n.o.ble Kaludari, you know how earnestly I long to see my son. Nine messengers have already been sent to the city of Radzagio to invite my son to come over to me, and none of them has as yet come back to me, to bring information respecting the object of my tenderest affections. I am old now, and the end of my existence is quite uncertain; could you not undertake to bring my son over to me? Whether you become Rahan or not, let me have the happiness of contemplating once more my beloved son ere I leave this world." The n.o.bleman promised to the king to comply with his royal order. Attended by a retinue of a thousand followers, he set out for the city of Radzagio. Having reached the Weloowon monastery, he listened to Buddha's preachings, and, like the former messengers, he became at once a Rahanda with all his followers.

Gaudama, having obtained the Buddhaship, spent the first season (Lent) in the solitude of Migadawon. Thence he proceeded to the solitude of Ooroowela, where he remained three months, until he had completed the work of converting the three Kathabas. It was on the full moon of Piatho (January) that he entered into the city of Radzagio, accompanied by his thousand disciples. He had just stayed two months in that place, so that there were five months since he had left the country of Baranathee.

Seven days after Kaludari's arrival, the cold season being nearly over, the new convert addressed Buddha as follows: "Ill.u.s.trious Phra, the cold season is over, and the warm season has just begun; this is now the proper time to travel through the country; nature wears a green aspect; the trees of the forests are in full blossom; the roads are lined to right and left with trees loaded with fragrant blossoms and delicious fruits; the peac.o.c.k proudly expands its magnificent tail; birds of every description fill the air with their ravishing and melodious singing. At this season heat and cold are equally temperate, and nature is scattering profusely its choicest gifts." By such and similar allurements Kaludari endeavoured to dispose Buddha to undertake a journey to Kapilawot. Gaudama hearing all these words said: "What means this? To what purpose are uttered so many fine expressions?" Kaludari replied: "Your father, O blessed Buddha, is advanced in years; he has sent me to invite you to come over to Kapilawot, that he might see you before his death. He and your royal parents will be rejoiced at hearing your most excellent law." "Well," said Buddha, "go and tell the Rahans to hold themselves ready for the journey." It was arranged that ten thousand Rahandas from Magatha and ten thousand from Kapilawot would accompany the ill.u.s.trious traveller. The distance between the two countries is sixty youdzanas.[3] Sixty days were to be employed in going over that distance, so they were to travel at the rate of but one youdzana a day.