The object of the Editors of this series is a very definite one. They desire above all things that, in their humble way, these books shall be the ambassadors of good-will and understanding between East and West—the old world of Thought and the new of Action. In this endeavour, and in their own sphere, they are but followers of the highest example in the land. They are confident that a deeper knowledge of the great ideals and lofty philosophy of Oriental thought may help to a revival of that true spirit of Charity which neither despises nor fears the nations of another creed and colour.

L. CRANMER-BYNG.
S. A. KAPADIA,

Northbrook Society,
21, Cromwell Road,
Kensington, S.W.

Introduction

To what extent can we speak of Buddhism as a religion—a system which rejects a belief in an immortal soul and an eternal God? We shall do well not to seek to answer this by fitting our reply into the limits of a ready-made definition. Buddhism implies a certain attitude to the universe, a conception which gives meaning to life, but it does not look upon the ultimate reality of things as personal. It succeeds indeed, more than any other system, in evading ultimate questions, though even in rejecting metaphysics it was unable to remain wholly unmetaphysical.

The chief ontological principle of Buddhism is that all compound things are impermanent; and it went on to assert that all things are compound except space and Nirvana. The self is compound, and hence impermanent. When the individual is analysed into body and mind with its qualities and functions, what is there remaining behind? The soul, ātman, said the Vedāntin, that permanent entity which is in reality identical with the absolute and eternal Brahma. But the Buddhist answer was that there is nothing remaining. The elements of the self are the self, just as the parts of the chariot are the chariot. Whether this is philosophically or even psychologically sound is another question. This analysis was applied to all things and beings, and hence also to the gods. The gods were not denied, but their permanence was, and hence there was no paramātman or universal soul, of which the gods, according to the orthodox philosophy, were the manifestations. In this sense Buddhism is atheistic. The gods were merely beings, involved like us in incessant change, who by merit had acquired their high rank of existence, and who would lose it when their merit was exhausted. They were, as the Sānkhya philosophy said, office-holders, and any one by sufficient merit could attain to that rank. Buddha himself, according to the legends of his previous births, several times became Sakka (Indra) and even Brahma. In the birth-story of the hare (Jātaka, No. 316), when the hare resolves to sacrifice himself to provide food for the brahmin, the throne of Sakka, king of the gods, becomes hot, and Sakka becomes uneasy on finding that there is a being with so much merit who is likely to displace him.

Buddhism, however, is no theory that the world is a concourse of fortuitous phenomena. It retained the Indian doctrines of rebirth and karma. Karma, “action,” is the law of cause and effect applied to the moral world. Every action brings its fruit, either in this life or another. It makes possible the moral government of the world without a moral governor. But action can only lead to temporary happiness or misery. It cannot—any more than in the Christian system—bring salvation. Salvation, the freedom from the circle of birth and death, results from knowledge, and the saving knowledge which is the essence of positive Buddhist teaching consists in the four truths—the fact of suffering, the cause of suffering, the destruction of suffering, and the Noble Eightfold Path leading thereto. This is the teaching which makes Buddhism a religion. Buddhism offers not merely a philosophy, but a theory of life for those who are suffering, for the weary and heavy-laden, which has for centuries met the religious needs of a great part of the human race. “In religion,” said Hegel, “all that awakens doubt and perplexity, all sorrow and care, all limited interests of finitude, we leave behind us on the bank and shoal of time. . . It is in this native land of the spirit that the waters of oblivion flow, from which it is given to Psyche to drink and forget all her sorrows.” In no religion has this been more deeply realised than in the perfect calm of the Buddhist saint, who in his earthly life has “crossed to the farther shore,” and realised the eternal great Nirvana.

As there is no soul, no permanent entity which transmigrates, the doctrine of rebirth had to be modified in the Buddhist system. The elements or factors of the individual are composed of five groups (khandhas): (1) the body, (2) sensations, (3) perceptions, (4) the predispositions (sankhāras) forming the mental and moral character, (5) consciousness. It is through these groups that transmigration takes place, and the cause which leads to rebirth is “thirst” or clinging to existence. Impelled by this thirst the being is reborn as an individual in a new existence, higher or lower according to the karma accumulated. Rebirth ceases when this thirst is extinguished. To bring about this extinction many bonds have to be broken, errors corrected, and delusions destroyed, on the Noble Eightfold Path leading to perfect knowledge.

What the early Buddhists meant by Nirvana (“blowing out, extinction”) has been much discussed, but it is at least possible to remove certain misconceptions about it. It has been confused with another question which has much exercised Western thought—what takes place at death? Is it

To drop head-foremost in the jaws
Of vacant darkness and to cease?

The ordinary Buddhist was not oppressed with this doubt. He knew that the ordinary man, who had not completed the Eightfold Path, was reborn. Nirvana is the extinction not of the self, but of the clinging to existence. To look upon it as the extinction of the soul is merely to substitute a question debated by Western theologians and materialists. Nirvana may be attained during life. It is a further question to ask what becomes at death of the Arahat in whom the clinging to existence is extinguished. The word Nirvana is used in two senses. To assert this is not a mere inference, for the two meanings are distinguished in the sacred texts. The Nirvana attained during life is called sa-upādisesa, “having the khandhas or elements of the individual remaining,” and the Nirvana at death is anupādisesa, “not having the khandhas remaining.” All the descriptions of Nirvana that speak of enjoying a blissful state refer to the Arahat who has attained liberation while alive. Buddha won Nirvana when he attained enlightenment under the Bodhi-tree. A good example occurs in the Discourse of the Right Wandering of a Monk (Sutta Nipāta, II. 13), where Buddha is thus addressed:

We ask the Sage, firm-minded, of great wisdom,
Who has crossed to the other shore, and reached Nirvana,
How should the monk, abandoning a dwelling,
Rejecting the passions, rightly wander in the world?

The verb here used (parinibbuta) for “reached Nirvana” is the same as used in the account of the death of Buddha; and Buddha shortly before his death, when warning his favourite disciple Ānanda that Chunda, who gave the food which led to his last illness, is not to be reproached for it, defines this final Nirvana as anupādisesa, “consisting in the complete passing away of the elements of being.”

The question then remains as to what becomes at death of the Arahat who has attained Nirvana. That question was put to Buddha, and he refused to answer it, but we can see what the inevitable view is on the Buddhist theory of the self. In the account of Buddha’s death there is no hint of his continued existence, but only a repetition of the Buddhist truth, “impermanent are all compounded things.” In the Questions of Milinda the answer is more definite: “The Lord has reached Nirvana with the extinction of the roots which consists in the complete passing away of the khandhas. The Lord has perished, and it is impossible to point him out, saying, ‘Here he is’ or ‘There he is.’ But the Lord can be pointed out in the body of the doctrine, for the doctrine was taught by the Lord.”

But what appears the obvious conclusion from these passages, and from the Questions of Mālunkyāputta, Uttiya, and Vaccha, given below, has not led to harmony in the theories of Western scholars. Some of these views will be found discussed in Mrs. Rhys Davids’ Buddhism. The matter is still further complicated, because the later developments of Mahāyāna Buddhism did definitely introduce the idea of an after-life of bliss for the Arahat. The form of Buddhism which arose in Northern India some four centuries after Buddha’s death, and which called itself Mahāyāna, “The Great Vehicle,” exaggerated the view that all compound things are impermanent into the theory that all phenomena are illusory. In this respect it is parallel to the Vedānta doctrine of Māyā; and there is little doubt that the Vedānta influenced this development. Further, as the Vedānta taught a permanent reality behind the illusion of Māyā, so in Mahāyāna Buddhism the idea of Nirvana was converted into a positive conception, the idea of an eternal reality, in which dwell all the Buddhas as pure spirit. But whether this teaching be considered a logical development of the original system, or an accretion and corruption, it is certain that it does not belong to primitive Buddhism, nor to those schools of Buddhism which have best preserved the original tradition. The reader will find some valuable information on this question in Dr. Barnett’s introduction to The Path of Light in the same series as the present volume.

The Buddhist Scriptures

The Buddhist scriptures, as preserved by the Buddhists of Ceylon and Further India, are in the Pāli language, a language related to Sanskrit much as Italian is related to Latin; and for several centuries before and after Christ it was spoken in varying dialects over most of Northern India. Buddha, according to the Ceylon tradition, died 543 B.C., but it is generally agreed that this date is too early. The latest calculation by an Indian scholar, Mr. V. Gopala Aiyer, makes the date fifty-six years later, 487 B.C. Immediately after Buddha’s death the first council is said to have been held at Rājagaha (now Rajgir in Behar on the borders of Bengal), where the Vinaya (discipline) and Dhamma (doctrine) were recited and fixed. The historical evidence for this council is much disputed, but it is extremely probable that some such collection was made about this time. Nothing was written down. It was preserved, as the Vedas had already been preserved for centuries, by memory. It is this very fact which strengthens the view that we possess a faithful picture of the preaching of Buddha, a preaching which extended over more than forty years. To determine to what extent the discourses have been worked up into other forms and added to, and especially how the rules of the Order have been gradually elaborated, is a work for future scholars.

In the third century B.C. the great king Asoka ruled over Magadha, and Buddhism became the established religion. Missionary embassies were sent out, and after the council of Patna, about 250 B.C., Asoka’s own son Mahinda carried the faith to Ceylon. It was not until 160 years after his arrival that the text of the sacred books was written down.

These Buddhist scriptures as we possess them consist of the Tipiṭaka, “three baskets,” in the following divisions:

Vinaya Piṭaka (Discipline of the Order, with commentary explaining how each rule came to be established).

Suttavibhanga.

Khandhakas (Mahāvagga and Cullavagga).

Parivāra.

Sutta Piṭaka (Basket of Discourses).

1. Dīgha Nikāya (“Long collection,” 34 discourses).

2. Majjhima Nikāya (“Middle collection,” 152 discourses).

3. Samyutta Nikāya (“Connected collection,” 55 groups).

4. Anguttara Nikāya (“The add-one-collection”).

5. Khuddaka Nikāya (Miscellaneous collection).

(a) Khuddaka-pāṭha (Short passages).

(b) Dhammapada (Anthology of verses).

(d) Iti-vuttaka (Passages beginning “Thus it was said” [by Buddha]).

(e) Sutta-nipāta (Discourses chiefly in verse).

(f) Vimāna-vatthu (“Stories of celestial abodes”).

(g) Peta-vatthu (“Stories of petas [ghosts]”).

(h) and (i) Thera- and Therī-gāthā (Psalms of the brethren and sisters).

(j) Jātaka (Stories of Buddha’s previous births).

(k) Niddesa (A commentary on the latter part of (e)).

(1) Paṭisambhidā (“Analytical science,” on the fourfold power of wisdom of Arahats).

(m) Apadāna (Stories of Arahats).

(n) Buddha-vansa (Lives of the 24 preceding Buddhas).

(o) Cariyā-piṭaka (Versifications of some of the Jātaka stories).

Abhidhamma Piṭaka (“Further Dhamma,” more elaborate discussion of the principles of the Doctrine).

1. Dhamma-sangaṇi.

2. Vibhanga.

3. Kathā-vatthu.

4. Puggala-paññatti.

5. Dhātu-kathā.

6. Yamaka.

7. Patthāna.

One of the most important of the extra-canonical Buddhist works is the Questions of Milinda. It was written, according to Prof. Rhys Davids, in the first century, A.D. It gives an exposition of the doctrine in the form of answers by the sage Nāgasena to the questions of king Milinda. It is not history, but romance, though Milinda or Menander was a Greek king of Bactria in the second century B.C. According to Strabo he was the most important of the Bactrian kings, who are said to have subdued more nations in India than Alexander. Two passages from the work are given in the present selection.

Christian Parallels

The high morality both of Buddhism and Christianity, and the personalities of their founders, have led to theories as to the influence of one on the other. The subject is a complicated one, because there is no doubt that the two religions at a later date did come into contact in Tibet and other parts of Asia. This later relationship will be found discussed in Dr. Carus’s Buddhism and its Christian Critics (London, 1897). The resemblances in earlier Buddhism do not amount to more than independent parallels, although Fausböll was inclined to think that the Sutta-Nipāta, in which several of them occur, was not anterior to the time of Christ. These are given below, p. 107.

Buddhism, in spite of fundamental differences from Christianity, has more in common with it than appears at first sight. Its deepest distinction is that it has no Saviour. Buddha was reborn from the Tusita heaven out of compassion to teach the truth, but still each man must work out his own salvation. His destiny, whether he wins Nirvana or not, depends in the long run upon himself.

It is sometimes unintelligently said that continued rebirth is a dreary doctrine. But it does not necessarily mean rebirth upon earth. The good Buddhist, just as the Christian, hopes to go to heaven, and fears to go to hell, and he has more possibilities than this. There are five states of rebirth, as a god in heaven, as a human being, as an animal, as a ghost, or in hell. A sixth state is sometimes added, that of the Asuras or Titans. There are, further, several heavens with many subdivisions, eight great hells, and one hundred and twenty-eight minor hells. Nor does the Buddhist, although he hopes finally to escape rebirth, look upon the chief end as extinction. Nirvana is the attainment of the highest bliss, and involves the extinction of all the lower desires. In this it is in accord with the type of Christianity which makes the monk its ideal, and places virginity higher than marriage. But—and here is another deep difference—the infinity of bliss comes to be only the infinite cessation of sorrow. This is the summing up in the Sutta of the Great Decease:

Righteousness, and earnest meditation,
Wisdom, and highest liberation,
These are the doctrines comprehended
By Gotama the Glorious One.
The Enlightened One with perfect knowledge
Proclaimed the doctrine to the brethren,
The Master, who puts an end to sorrow,
The Seer, who has reached Nirvana.

Buddha is said to have prophesied that the Doctrine would last five hundred years, and it is the fact that by that time the decay set in in India, which with the contamination of other philosophical systems, and the adoption of debased forms of worship, led to its extinction in the land of its birth. But it is still the most widely spread religion of Asia. Ceylon, Burma, Siam, and Kambodia preserve the “tradition of the elders,” the Pāli tradition from which the following selections are taken. “In Burma,” as a modern Bhikkhu writes, “It still reigns supreme; the message of It is written over all the land in Shrine and Monastery and Temple; written still deeper in the hearts and lives of women and of men. Forty long years after that supreme Illumination, the Master lived and taught His growing band of followers; passing at last Himself from Life for ever, into the Silence, the Utter Peace whereunto He had shown the way.”

I. The Dream Of Queen Māyā

Gotama, the future Buddha, was born about 567 B.C. as the son of the Raja of the tribe of Sakyas, at Kapilavatthu on the borders of Nepal, and about 130 miles north of Benares. This date is only a calculation made by reckoning back from the dates of the reigns of various kings, but there is a general agreement that it is approximately correct.

The story of Queen Māyā’s dream, as well as the three following passages, are from the introduction to the Jātakas, which contains an account of Gotama’s early life. The Lalita Vistara, the later Sanskrit account, shows the development of the legend. The event of the dream is there recorded as an actual occurrence, in which the Bodhisatta descends from the Tusita heaven in the form of an elephant. In the earlier legend there is no mention of a virgin birth, but in the later story the queen takes a vow of abstinence, to which the king gives his consent.

Then was proclaimed in the city of Kapilavatthu the midsummer festival of the month Āsālha, and many people celebrated the festivities. The queen Mahāmāyā, beginning from the seven days before the full moon, celebrated the festival with the splendour of garlands and perfumes, and without the drinking of intoxicants. On the seventh day she rose early, bathed in scented water, bestowed a great gift of 400,000 pieces of money as alms, being adorned with all kinds of ornaments, ate of choice food, performed the holy-day vows, and entered the splendidly adorned royal bedchamber, And lying on the royal bed she fell asleep, and dreamt this dream: The four kings ^[1] raised her together with the bed, and took her to the Himalaya to the Manosilā tableland, sixty leagues in length, and placing her beneath a great sal-tree, seven leagues high, they stood on one side.

Then their queens took the queen to the lake Anotattā, bathed her to remove human stain, robed her in a divine dress, anointed her with perfumes, and decked her with divine flowers. Not far from there is Silver mountain, and on it a golden palace. There they prepared and set a divine bed with its head to the east. Then the Bodhisatta became a white elephant. Not far from there is a certain Golden mountain, and the Bodhisatta went there, descended from it, ascended Silver mountain, approaching it from the north, and in his trunk, like a silver chain, he bore a white lotus. He trumpeted, entered the golden palace, made a rightwise circle three times round his mother’s bed, smote her right side, and seemed to enter her womb. Thus at the end of the midsummer festival he received a new existence.

The next day, on awaking, the queen told her dream to the king. The king summoned sixty-four famous brahmins, caused the ground to be strewn with festive lāja-flowers, prepared splendid seats, filled the gold and silver bowls of the brahmins seated there with cooked ghee, honey, sugar, and excellent rice, and gave it to them covered with gold and silver covers. He also delighted them with other gifts, such as new clothes and tawny cows. Then, when they were delighted with all these pleasures, he related the dream. “What will take place?” he asked. The brahmins said, “King, be not anxious, the queen has conceived, and the child will be a male, not a female. You will have a son, and if he lives a household life, he will become a universal monarch; and if he leaves his house and goes forth from the world, he will become a Buddha, a dispeller of illusion in the world. (Jāt. Introd, I. 50 ff.)

II. The Birth Of Gotama

The personal name of Buddha was Siddhattha, “one who has accomplished his aim.” Whether it was actually the name given to him as a child we do not know. His family name was Gotama, and it is as “sir, Gotama” (bho Gotama) or “the ascetic Gotama,” that members of other sects are represented as addressing him. By the Buddhists he is called up to the time of his enlightenment the Bodhisatta, “being of enlightenment,” a term applied to any one who is destined to become a Buddha. After his enlightenment he is called the Buddha “the enlightened one,” and addressed as Bhagavan, “the Lord.” Buddha, when speaking of himself, calls himself the Tathāgata, literally “one who has gone thus.” The exact significance is disputed, but it probably means, “one who has gone in the way of previous Buddhas.”

The queen Mahāmāyā, bearing the Bodhisatta like oil in a vessel for ten months, desired, when her time was come, to go to her relatives’ home, and addressed king Suddhodana, “Your Majesty, I wish to go to Devadaha, the city of my people.” “Good,” said the king, and he caused the road from Kapilavatthu to the city of Devadaha to be made smooth, adorned it with plantains in pots, flags and banners, seated the queen in a golden palanquin borne by a thousand courtiers, and sent her forth with a great retinue. Between the two cities, and belonging to the inhabitants of both, is a pleasure-grove of sal-trees, called the Lumbini grove. At that time from the roots to the ends of the branches the whole grove was in full flower, and among the branches and flowers were numberless bees of the five colours, and flocks of various kinds of birds, singing with sweet sounds. The whole Lumbini grove seemed like the heavenly Cittalatā grove or like an adorned banqueting pavilion for a mighty king.

When the queen saw it, the desire arose in her heart of sporting therein. The courtiers with the queen entered the sal-grove. She went to the foot of a royal sal-tree, and desired to take hold of a branch. The sal-tree branch, like the tip of a supple reed, bowed down, and came within reach of the queen’s hand. She put out her hand and seized the branch. Then she was shaken by the pangs of birth. The multitude put round her a curtain and retired. Taking hold of the sal-branch and standing up she was delivered. And even at that moment the four pure-minded Mahābrahmas [of the different Brahma-heavens] came and brought a golden net, and with the golden net they received the Bodhisatta and set him before his mother, “Rejoice, O queen, a mighty son is born to thee,” they said. And as other beings at their birth are born with disagreeable impurity and stain, so was not the Bodhisatta. But the Bodhisatta, like a preacher of the doctrine descending from his seat of doctrine, like a man descending stairs, stretched forth his two hands and feet, and standing unsoiled, unstained by any impurity from the sojourn of his birth, like a jewel placed in Benares cloth, thus brilliant did he descend from his mother. And yet in honour of the Bodhisatta and the Bodhisatta’s mother two showers of water descended from the sky on the body of the Bodhisatta and his mother. (Jāt. Introd. I. 52 ff.)

III. The Four Signs

The subject of the following legend also forms one of the episodes of the Lalita Vistara, and has found its way into English literature. It forms the leading motive of the medieval morality play Everyman, where Death is thus addressed by God:

Go thou to Everyman,
And shewe hym in my name
A pylgrymage he must on hym take,
Whiche he in no wyse may escape,
And that he brynge with him a sure rekenynge
Without delay or ony taryenge.

The Lalita Vistara was put into a Christian dress as the story of Barlaam and Josaphat, and it occurs in a Greek version (probably from the Arabic) among the writings of John of Damascus (eighth century). From this source the story with its episodes became a popular literary subject during the Middle Ages. The story of the caskets in Shakesspeare’s Merchant of Venice, found earlier also in Gower, is from the same work.

On a certain day the Bodhisatta desired to go into the park. He called his charioteer, and said, “Yoke the chariot.” “Very good,” he replied, and adorning a great and most excellent chariot with all adornments, yoked the four royal Sindh horses of the colour of white lotus-petals, and informed the Bodhisatta. The Bodhisatta ascended the chariot, which was like a throne of the gods, and went towards the park. The gods thought, “The time for the enlightenment of prince Siddhattha is near, we will show him a previous sign,” and they caused a son of the gods to appear, infirm with age, broken-toothed, grey-haired, bent, with crooked body, leaning on a staff, trembling, and showed him. But only the Bodhisatta and the charioteer saw him. Then the Bodhisatta asked the charioteer in the way recorded in the Mahāpadāna discourse, “Friend, who is that man, even his hair is not like that of others?” And on hearing his reply said, “Woe upon birth, since through it old age must come to those who are born,” and with troubled heart he returned from thence and entered the palace. The king asked, “Why does my son return so quickly?” They said, “Your Majesty, he has seen an old man, and he is going to retire from the world.” “Why will you kill me? Prepare stage-plays for my son quickly; if he obtains happiness, he will not think of retiring from the world,” said the king. And he prepared a guard, and set them in all directions to the distance of half a league.

Again on a certain day, as the Bodhisatta was going to the park, he saw a diseased man set there by the gods, and having asked in the same way he returned with troubled heart and entered the palace. The king also inquired as before said, and again prepared a guard and put them on all sides to the distance of three-quarters of a league. Again another day when going to the park he saw a dead body put there by the gods, and having asked in the same way he returned again with troubled heart to the palace. The king also inquired as before said, and again prepared a guard and put them on all sides to the distance of a league. Again another day when going to the park he saw put there by the gods a hermit carefully and duly dressed. “Friend, who is this?” he asked the charioteer. As it was not the time of the appearance of a Buddha, the charioteer knew nothing of a hermit or the virtues of a hermit, but through the power of the gods he replied, “Your Highness, this is a hermit,” and described a hermit’s virtues. The Bodhisatta was delighted with the thought of renunciation, and that day he went on through the park. But the reciters of the Dīgha (Collection of long discourses) say that he went and saw the four signs all on one day. (Jāt. Introd. I. 58 ff.)

IV. The Great Renunciation

Gotama, at the age of sixteen, was married to his cousin, Yasodharā, who in the sacred texts is usually called “the mother of Rāhula.” After his enlightenment Gotama returned to his native city, begging alms through the streets. His father came and was converted. His wife remained in her room till Gotama should come to her, saying, “If I am virtuous enough to merit this honour, my husband will come himself to see me, and then I will salute him respectfully.” This he did, and his father told how since she had heard that her husband was wearing yellow robes, and eating one meal a day, she had done the same. His son Rāhula entered the Order.

At that time, on hearing that the mother of Rāhula had borne a son, king Suddhodana sent the message, “Announce the happy news to my son.” The Bodhisatta, when he heard, said, “Rāhula [or, an impediment] is born, a fetter is born.” The king asked, “What did my son say?” and on hearing the words, said, “Henceforth let the name of my grandson be prince Rāhula.” But the Bodhisatta mounted a splendid chariot and entered the city with great honour and most delightful majestic glory. At that time a girl of the warrior caste named Kisāgotamī had gone to the top of the palace, and beheld the beauty and glory of the Bodhisatta, as he made a rightwise procession round the city; and, filled with joy and delight, she made this solemn utterance:

Happy indeed that mother is,
Happy indeed that father is,
Happy indeed that wife is,
Whose husband is such as he.

The Bodhisatta, on hearing it, thought, “Thus she spoke; on her seeing such a form a mother’s heart wins Nirvana, a father’s heart wins Nirvana, a wife’s heart wins Nirvana. Now on what being extinguished ^[2] does the heart attain Nirvana?” And with aversion in his mind for the passions he thought, “When the fire of lust is extinguished Nirvana is won; when the fire of hate, the fire of delusion are extinguished, Nirvana is won; when pride, false views, and all the passions and pains are extinguished Nirvana is won. She has taught me a good lesson, for I am in search of Nirvana; even to-day ought I to reject and leave a household life, and go forth from the world to seek Nirvana. Let this be her teacher’s fee.” And taking from his neck a pearl necklace worth 100,000 pieces, he sent it to Kisāgotamī. She was filled with delight, and thought, “Prince Siddhattha has fallen in love with me, and has sent me a present.” But the Bodhisatta with great majestic glory entered his palace and lay down on the royal bed.

Now beautiful women, decked with all adornments, well trained in dancing, singing, and so on, like celestial girls, took various musical instruments, and came round him, diverting him with dancing, singing, and music. The Bodhisatta, through his mind being averse to the passions, took no pleasure in the dancing and music, and fell asleep for a short time. The women thought, “He for whose sake we are dancing and singing has fallen asleep; why do we now weary ourselves?” And taking their instruments they strewed them about and lay down. Lamps of perfumed oil were burning. The Bodhisatta, on waking up, sat cross-legged upon the bed, and saw the women sleeping with their instruments thrown about, some with phlegm trickling and their bodies wet with spittle, some grinding their teeth, some snoring, some muttering, some with open mouths, some with their dress fallen apart, and repulsive parts disclosed. On seeing their disgraceful appearance he was still more averse to pleasures. The hall, though adorned and decorated like the palace of Sakka, seemed to him like a cemetery filled with all sorts of corpses strewn about, and the three modes of existence appeared like a house on fire. His solemn utterance broke forth, “How oppressive it is, how afflicting it is!” and his thought turned mightily to abandoning the world. Thinking, “To-day I must make the great renunciation,” he rose from his bed and went towards the door. “Who is there?” he said. Channa, who had put his head on the threshold, said, “Noble sir, it is I, Channa.” “To-day I wish to make the great renunciation; saddle me a horse.” Channa replied, “Yes, your Highness,” and taking the horse-trappings he went to the stable, and by the light of scented oil-lamps he saw Kanthaka, the king of horses, standing in a goodly stall beneath a jasmine-flowered canopy. “This is the one I must saddle to-day,” he said, and he saddled Kanthaka. The horse, as he was being saddled, thought, “This is very tight harness; it is not like harness used on other days in going for pleasure in the park. My noble master must to-day be wishing to make the great renunciation.” So with delighted mind he gave a great neigh. The sound would have extended through the whole city, but the gods suppressed the sound and allowed no one to hear.

When the Bodhisatta had sent Channa, he thought, “Now I will go and see my son,” and rising from where he was sitting cross-legged he went to the room of Rāhula’s mother, and opened the door. At that moment a scented oil-lamp was burning in the room. The mother of Rāhula was sleeping on a bed strewn with jasmine and other flowers, and with her hand on her son’s head. The Bodhisatta put his foot on the threshold and stood looking. “If I move the queen’s hand and take my son, the queen will awake. Thus there will be an obstacle to my going. When I have become a Buddha I will come and see him.” And he went down from the palace.

[With Channa riding behind him he passed through the city-gates, which were opened by divine beings, and rode as far as the river Anomā. He there crossed the river, cut off his hair, and sent Channa back with the horse.]

But the horse Kanthaka, who stood listening to the voice of the Bodhisatta, as he deliberated with Channa, thought, “Now I shall never see my master again.” And when he passed out of sight, he was unable to bear the grief, and his heart broke, and he died and was born again in the heaven of the Thirty-three gods as a son of the gods named Kanthaka.

At first Channa had had one grief, but when Kanthaka died, he was overcome by a second grief, and returned weeping and lamenting to the city. (Jāt. Introd. I. 60 f.)

V. The Chain Of Causation

Gotama, on his retirement, went to Rājagaha, the capital of Magadha, and studied under several teachers. Then for six years he practised severe penance with five disciples. Finally he came to see the vanity of self-mortification as the means of enlightenment, and abandoned it, whereupon his disciples deserted him. It was soon after this, under the Bodhi-tree at Uruvelā near Rājagaha, after a day of doubts and conflicts, represented in the accounts as the temptations of the evil one Māra and his demons, that he attained enlightenment (Bodhi), and became Buddha, “the enlightened.”

The Chain of Causation is said to have been his first utterance as Buddha. Its exact interpretation is not a simple matter, especially apart from a discussion of the Indian philosophies in the midst of which Buddhism developed. It should be noticed that the series extends over more than one life. The following is chiefly drawn from Prof. Bern’s interpretation.

Grief, suffering, misery, old age, sickness, death, and other such evils exist. Why do they exist? Because birth exists. Birth [i.e. rebirth] is a consequence of becoming. Becoming presupposes matter or effort, which is produced by desire. Desire is a consequence of sensation, sensation a consequence of contact (with an object which rouses the sensation). There is contact because there are six senses (the five bodily senses and mind), and because these senses belong to an organized being. Now an organized being consists of name and form [mind and body]; hence consciousness exists. This depends on predispositions [in a previous birth], and the predispositions are the consequence of ignorance. Hence ignorance is the base of that which exists, and in order to put an end to existence which involves death, sickness, and sorrow, it is only necessary to suppress the base. At that time the Lord Buddha was dwelling at Uruvelā on the banks of the Neranjarā, at the foot of the Bodhi-tree, just after he had attained complete enlightenment. Now the Lord sat cross-legged at the foot of the Bodhi-tree for seven days, experiencing the bliss of emancipation. And the Lord during the first watch of the [first] night meditated on the chain of causation in direct and in reverse order: from ignorance come predispositions [sankhāras, mental predispositions resulting from actions in previous existences], from predispositions consciousness, from consciousness name and form [mind and body], from name and form the six organs of sense [i.e. the five senses and mind or the inner sense], from the organs of sense contact, from contact feeling, from feeling craving, from craving clinging to existence, from clinging to existence becoming, from becoming rebirth, from rebirth old age and death, grief, lamentation, suffering, sorrow, and despair. Such is the cause of this whole aggregation of suffering. Now by the complete and trackless destruction of ignorance the predispositions are destroyed, by the destruction of the predispositions consciousness is destroyed, by the destruction of consciousness name and form are destroyed, by the destruction of name and form the six senses are destroyed, by the destruction of the six senses contact is destroyed, by the destruction of contact feeling is destroyed, by the destruction of feeling craving is destroyed, by the destruction of craving clinging to existence is destroyed, by the destruction of clinging to existence becoming is destroyed, by the destruction of becoming rebirth is destroyed, by the destruction of rebirth old age and death, grief, lamentation, suffering, sorrow, and despair are destroyed. Such is the destruction of this whole aggregation of suffering. So the Lord knowing this at that time gave utterance to this solemn verse:

When clear the true nature of things appeareth
To the brahmin ardently meditating,
Then all his doubts vanish, for he perceiveth
Of natural things all the effects and causes.
(Vin. Mahāv. I. 1.)

VI. The Beginning Of Buddha’s Preaching

The first discourse of the Buddha was given to the five disciples who had deserted him when he abandoned his austerities. It is given in the Vinaya in explaining the rules as to how the elder and younger brethren are to be addressed. The phrase “I have attained the immortal,” used by Buddha, has nothing to do with immortal life. It refers to the permanent state of Nirvana, which does not pass away as do compound things. As the Vijaya Discourse puts it:

The bhikkhu, filled with wisdom here,
In lust, desire, delighting not,
He has attained immortal peace,
The unchangeable Nirvana-state.

The latter part of the following discourse, beginning with the words, “These two extremes,” forms the Discourse of setting in motion the Wheel of the Doctrine. It teaches the middle path between the two extremes of self-indulgence and self-mortification. The statement is sometimes made that Buddha rejected asceticism. He certainly repudiated self-torture as a means of salvation, but not the asceticism which rejects all the lower desires in the pursuit of one highest goal. Compare the Ten Commandments below.

Now the Lord by gradual journeying came to Benares, to the deer-park Isipatana, where were the five brethren. The five brethren saw the Lord coming from afar, and on seeing him they decided among themselves, “This, friends, is the ascetic Gotama coming, who lives in abundance, has given up exertion, and turned to a life of abundance. We must not address him, nor rise to greet him, nor take his bowl and robe, but a seat shall be set for him. If he wishes he may sit down.” But as the Lord approached the five brethren, so the five brethren did not abide by their agreement, but went to meet the Lord, and one took his bowl and robe, one arranged a seat, one set water for his feet, a footstool, and a cloth. The Lord sat on the appointed seat, and having sat down the Lord washed his feet. Then they addressed the Lord by name, and by the title of friend. When they spoke thus, the Lord said to the five brethren, “Brethren, do not address the Tathāgata by name, nor by the title of friend. The Tathāgata, brethren, is an arahat, and has obtained complete enlightenment. Give ear, brethren, I have attained the immortal, I instruct, I teach the doctrine. If you walk according to the teaching, for the sake of which noble youths go forth completely from a house to a houseless life, you will soon, on going forth yourselves, realize the transcendent faculties in this life, and will live in the attainment of the aim of the highest religious life.” At these words the five brethren said to the Lord, “By that exercise, friend Gotama, by that course, that practice of penance, you have not attained supernatural excellence of most noble knowledge and insight. Will you, when you live in abundance, have given up exertion, and have turned to a life of abundance, now attain supernatural excellence of most noble knowledge and insight?” When they spoke thus, the Lord said to the five brethren, “Brethren, the Tathāgata does not live in abundance, he has not given up exertion, and has not turned to a life of abundance. The Tathāgata, brethren, is an arahat, and has attained complete enlightenment. Give ear, brethren, I have attained the immortal, I instruct, I teach the doctrine. If you walk according to the teaching, for the sake of which noble youths go forth completely from a house to a houseless life, you will soon, on going forth yourselves, realize the transcendent faculties in this life, and will live in the attainment of the aim of the highest religious life.” [A second and third time the brethren asked the question, and the third time the Buddha replied: ] “Do you perceive, brethren, that I have never spoken to you thus before now?” “Never thus, reverend sir.” “The Tathāgata, brethren, is an arahat, and has attained complete enlightenment . . .” [etc., down to, “religious life “]. Then the Lord was able to convince the five brethren. They listened again to the Lord, gave ear, and fixed their minds on the knowledge.

Then the Lord addressed the five brethren: “These two extremes, brethren, are not to be practised by one who has given up the world. What are the two? The one, devotion to lusts and pleasures, base, sensual, vulgar, ignoble, and useless, and the other, devotion to self-mortification, painful, ignoble, and useless. By avoiding these two extremes, brethren, the Tathāgata has gained perfect knowledge of the middle path, which produces insight and knowledge, and conduces to tranquillity, to transcendent knowledge, to complete enlightenment, to Nirvana. What is this middle path, brethren? It is the Noble Eightfold Path, that is, right views, right aspiration, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right endeavour, right watchfulness, and right meditation. This, brethren, is the middle path, of which the Tathāgata has gained perfect knowledge, which produces insight and knowledge, and conduces to tranquillity, to supernatural faculty, to complete enlightenment, to Nirvana. This, brethren, is the noble truth of suffering: birth is suffering, old age is suffering, illness is suffering, death is suffering. Union with unpleasant things is suffering, separation from pleasant things is suffering, not obtaining what we wish is suffering, in short the fivefold clinging to existence is suffering. And this, brethren, is the noble truth of the cause of suffering: craving, which causes rebirth, accompanied by pleasure and lust, and rejoices at finding delight here and there, that is, craving for pleasure, craving for existence, and craving for prosperity. And this, brethren, is the noble truth of the destruction of suffering: which is the complete and trackless destruction of that thirst, its abandonment and relinquishment, liberation, and aversion. And this, brethren, is the noble truth of the path that leads to the destruction of suffering, that is, right views, right aspiration, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right endeavour, right watchfulness, and right meditation.” (Vin. Mahāv. I. 6, 10 ff.)

VII. The Ordination Of Yasa

The conversion of Yasa and his father is represented as taking place soon after the Great Enlightenment. Two laymen had previously been converted together, confessing their belief in the Buddha and the doctrine, and Yasa’s father was the first to be admitted by the threefold utterance. This formula, thrice repeated, is as follows:

I go to the Buddha as my Refuge,
I go to the Doctrine as my Refuge,
I go to the Order as my Refuge.

As a bhikkhu of the present day, the Rev. Ānanda Metteyya, says, “This recitation marks the beginning of every religious function in Burma, from the offering of a few flowers by a child at the local sanctuary, to the public acceptation at the hands of a Chapter of the Order of the higher degree of Ordination into the Monastic Brotherhood on the part of an adult novice.” (An Outline of Buddhism, Rangoon, 1912.)

At that time there was in Benares a noble youth named Yasa, son of a gild-master, and delicately nurtured. He had three palaces, one for winter, one for summer, and one for the season of rains. He spent four months in the palace of the rainy season, surrounded by music-girls, and did not leave the palace. Now, Yasa, the noble youth, thus attended, endowed with and possessed of the five passions of sense, once fell asleep sooner than usual, and afterwards his attendants also fell asleep. All the night an oil-lamp was burning. Yasa, the noble youth, woke sooner than usual, and saw his attendants sleeping, a lute in the arms of one, a tambour on the neck of another, a drum in the arms of another, one with dishevelled hair, another with drivelling mouth, and muttering. It was like a cemetery round him. As he saw this, the evils of life became clear to him, and his mind became set with aversion. So Yasa, the noble youth, made this solemn utterance: “How oppressive it is, how afflicting it is!” Then Yasa, the noble youth, put on his gilt shoes, and went to the door of the house. Superhuman beings opened the gate, saying, “Let no one put an obstacle before Yasa, the noble youth, in his going forth from the house to a houseless life.”

And Yasa, the noble youth, went to Isipatana, the deer-park. At that time the Lord had arisen at night, as it was dawning, and was walking in the open air. The Lord saw Yasa, the noble youth, as he was coming from afar, and on seeing him came down from where he was walking, and sat down on the seat prepared for him. Yasa, the noble youth, on drawing near the Lord made this solemn utterance: “How oppressive it is, how afflicting it is!” And the Lord said to Yasa, the noble youth, “This, Yasa, is not oppressive, this is not afflicting. Come, Yasa, sit down, I will teach you the doctrine.” Then Yasa, the noble youth, at these words, “This is not oppressive, this is not afflicting,” was elated and glad, and taking off his gilt shoes approached the Lord, and having saluted him, sat down at one side. As he was seated at one side, the Lord gave him a due exposition of this kind: he preached a discourse of almsgiving, of the commandments, of heaven, the misery, worthlessness, and impurity of lusts, and the blessing of renunciation. When the Lord saw that the mind of Yasa, the noble youth, was prepared, susceptible, free from obstacles, elated, and happy, then he preached a most excellent discourse of the doctrine of the Buddhas: suffering, the cause (of suffering), the destruction (of suffering), and the path. And as a clean cloth free from stain duly takes the dye, so in Yasa, the noble youth, as he sat there, arose the pure, unstained, insight into the doctrine, that everything subject to birth is subject to destruction.

Now the mother of Yasa, the noble youth, went up to the palace, and not seeing him went to the gild-master, the householder, and approached him and said, “Your son Yasa, householder, is not to be seen.” Then the gild-master, the householder, sent out messengers on horseback in four directions, and he himself went to Isipatana, the deer-park. The gild-master, the householder, saw the footprints of the gilt shoes, and seeing them he followed their traces. Now the Lord saw the gild-master, the householder, approaching, and as he saw him he thought, “What if I were to effect such an exercise of miraculous power, that the gild-master, the householder, sitting here should not see Yasa, the noble youth, sitting here.” So the Lord effected such an exercise of miraculous power. Then the gild-master, the householder, approached the Lord, and having approached said, “Perhaps the reverend Lord has seen Yasa, the noble youth.” “Well, householder, sit down, perhaps sitting here you can see Yasa, the noble youth sitting here.” The gild-master, the householder, thought, “Surely, sitting here I shall see Yasa, the noble youth, sitting here,” and glad and elated he saluted the Lord and sat on one side.

As the gild-master, the householder, was seated on one side, the Lord gave him a due exposition of this kind: he preached a discourse of almsgiving, of the commandments, of heaven, the misery, worthlessness, and impurity of lusts, and the blessing of renunciation. Then the gild-master, the householder, having seen, attained, mastered, and penetrated the doctrine, with his doubts overcome, his uncertainties dispelled, having obtained clearness of mind, dependent on no one else for the teaching of the Master, said to the Lord: “Wonderful, reverend sir, wonderful, reverend sir, it is as if, reverend sir, one were setting up what was overturned, or revealing what was hidden, or showing the way to one who was lost, or putting a lamp in the darkness,—those with eyes see visible things—even so has the Lord preached the doctrine in many ways. Reverend sir, I go to the Lord as a refuge, and to the doctrine, and to the assembly of brethren. May the Lord take me as a lay-disciple from this day forth, while my life lasts, who have come to him for refuge.” He was the first in the world who became a disciple effected by the triple utterance.

Then Yasa, the noble youth, as the doctrine was being taught to his father, contemplated the stage of knowledge thus perceived and thus understood, and his mind became freed from attachment to the passions. And the Lord thought, “Yasa, the noble youth, as the doctrine was being taught to his father, has been contemplating the stage of knowledge thus perceived and thus understood, and his mind has become freed from attachment to the passions. It is impossible that Yasa, the noble youth, should return to a worldly life to find enjoyment in lusts, as he did before, while he lived in his house. What if I were now to make the exercise of my miraculous power to cease.” Then the Lord made the exercise of his miraculous power to cease. So the gild-master, the householder, saw Yasa, the noble youth, seated, and on seeing him he said to Yasa, the noble youth, “Your mother, Yasa, my son, is filled with lamentation and grief, restore your mother to life.” Then Yasa, the noble youth, looked at the Lord. And the Lord said to the gild-master, the householder, “Now what do you think, householder? Yasa with imperfect knowledge and imperfect insight has perceived the doctrine as you have, and on contemplating the stage of knowledge thus perceived and thus understood, his mind has become freed from attachment to the passions. Is it possible, householder, that Yasa should return to a worldly life to find enjoyment in lusts, as he did before, while he lived in his house?” “It is not possible, reverend sir.” “Yasa, the noble youth, householder, with imperfect knowledge and imperfect insight, has perceived the doctrine as you have, and on contemplating the stage of knowledge thus perceived and thus understood, his mind has become freed from attachment to the passions. It is not possible, householder, that Yasa, the noble youth, should return to a worldly life to find enjoyment in lusts, as he did while he lived in his house.” “It is gain, reverend sir, to Yasa, the noble youth, it is great gain to Yasa, the noble youth, reverend sir, that the mind of Yasa, the noble youth, should be freed from attachment to the passions. Let the reverend Lord consent to take food to-day from me with Yasa, the noble youth, as a junior brother.” The Lord by his silence consented. And the gild-master, perceiving the consent of the Lord, rose from his seat, saluted the Lord, passed round him, keeping his right side towards him, and departed. Then Yasa, the noble youth, soon after the gild-master, the householder, was gone, said to the Lord, “Reverend sir, let me receive from the Lord the ordination of going forth (pabbajā), and of admission to the order (upasampadā).” “Come, bhikkhu,” said the Lord, “the doctrine is well taught, lead a holy life for the complete extinction of suffering.” This was the ordination of this elder. At that time there were seven Arahats in the world. (Vin. Mahāv. I. 7.)

VIII. The Ten Commandments

The first five of these commandments—not to take life, not to steal, not to commit unchastity, not to tell lies, not to drink intoxicants—are binding on all laymen. The whole ten are binding on the brotherhood, and in their case the third rule means absolute celibacy. But the pious layman may take upon himself three more in addition to the first five. Those three—not eating after noon, not witnessing dancing, shows, and plays, not using ornaments, scents, and unguents—are usually taken on the fast-days, and are only binding for the day on which they are assumed. Details as to the rules and organization of the Order will be found in The Way of the Buddha of Mr. H. Baynes in the same series as the present volume.

1. Abstinence from destroying life.

2. Abstinence from taking what is not given.

3. Abstinence from unchastity.

4. Abstinence from falsehood.

5. Abstinence from spirituous liquors, strong drink, intoxicants, which are a cause of negligence.

6. Abstinence from eating at the wrong time [i.e. after noon].

7. Abstinence from looking at dancing, singing, music, and plays.

8. Abstinence from wearing garlands, scents, unguents, ornaments, and adornments, which are a cause of negligence.

9. Abstinence from a high or large bed.

10. Abstinence from accepting gold and silver. (Khuddaka Pāṭha, 2.)

IX. The Fire Discourse

Gotama, when intending to carry out his great Renunciation, says, “When the fire of lust, the fire of hate, the fire of delusion, are extinguished, Nirvana is won.” This metaphor of the individual and world being on fire often recurs. When these passions cease to exist, the state of “coolness” of the Arahat is brought about. The fire of samsāra goes out, as Buddha expounds to Vacchagotta, through want of fuel to feed on.

The Lord having stayed at Uruvelā as long as he wished, went forward to Gayāsīsa with a great assembly of brethren, with a thousand brethren, who had all previously been ascetics. There the Lord addressed the brethren: “Everything, brethren, is on fire. How, brethren, is everything on fire? The eye, brethren, is on fire, visible objects are on fire, the faculty of the eye is on fire, the sense of the eye is on fire, and also the sensation, whether pleasant or unpleasant or both, which arises from the sense of sight, is on fire. With what is it on fire? With the fire of passion, of hate, of illusion is it on fire, with birth, old age, death, grief, lamentation, suffering, sorrow, and despair. Thus I declare. The ear is on fire, sounds are on fire [etc.]. . . . The nose is on fire, scents are on fire, the tongue is on fire, tastes are on fire, the body is on fire, objects of touch are on fire, the mind is on fire, mental objects are on fire, the faculty of the mind is on fire, the perception of the mind is on fire, the sensation, whether pleasant or unpleasant or both, which arises from the inner sense is on fire. With what is it on fire? With the fire of passion, of hate, of illusion is it on fire, with birth, old age, death, grief, lamentation, suffering, sorrow, and despair. Thus I declare.

“The wise and noble disciple, brethren, perceiving this, is indifferent to the eyes, indifferent to visible objects, indifferent to the faculty of the eye, indifferent to sensation, whether pleasant or unpleasant or both, which arises from the sense of sight. He is indifferent to the ear, indifferent to sounds, indifferent to the nose, indifferent to scents, indifferent to the tongue, indifferent to tastes, indifferent to the body, indifferent to objects of touch, indifferent to the mind, indifferent to mental objects, indifferent to the faculty of the mind, indifferent to the perception of the mind, indifferent to the sensation, whether pleasant or unpleasant or both, which arises from the inner sense. And being indifferent he becomes free from passion, by absence of passion is he liberated, and when he is liberated the knowledge ‘I am liberated’ arises. Re-birth is destroyed, a religious life is lived, duty is done, and he knows there is nothing more for him in this state.” And when this exposition was spoken the minds of the thousand brethren were freed from the passions and liberated. (Vin. Mahāv. I. 21.)

X. The Weaver’s Daughter

The Dhammapada, consisting of 423 verses, is accompanied by a commentary, which gives a quasi-historical account of how each verse came to be uttered. The following is the commentary on verse 174.

“Blind and unseeing.”—This exposition of the doctrine was spoken by the Master while dwelling at the Aggālava shrine, about a certain weaver’s daughter. One day, when the Master had arrived at Ālavī, the inhabitants invited him, and gave alms. The Master, after the preparation for the meal, by way of giving thanks said: “Uncertain is life, certain is death. Of necessity I must die, and my life ends in death. Practise reflection on death, thinking, life is unsure, death is sure. For they who do not practise reflection on death are at their last hour like a man who is terrified at seeing a poisonous snake, and filled with terror they utter a cry of fear and perish. But they who practise reflection on death are like a man who sees a poisonous snake from a distance, and going with a long stick he throws it away, and is not terrified. Therefore let reflection on death be practised.”

On hearing this exposition of the doctrine the rest of the people went away intent on their business; but a certain weaver’s daughter, who was about sixteen years old, thought, “Wonderful is the teaching of the Buddhas,” and she practised reflection on death. The Master went from thence, and reached Jetavana. Now the girl practised reflection on death for three years. Then on a certain day the Master at dawn, observing the world, called her to mind, and considered, “How may she be?” And he had the knowledge that, “This girl from the day when she heard my exposition of the doctrine has practised reflection on death for three years. I will now go there and ask the girl four questions; and when she explains them I will express approval at each of the four points, and will utter the verse. By means of the verse she will be established in the fruit of the First Path (entering the stream), and through her the teaching will be profitable to many.”

Then with an assembly of five hundred brethren he left Jetavana, and by degrees came to the monastery at Aggālava. The people of Ālavī, hearing that the Master had come, went to the monastery, and gave him an invitation. The girl also heard of the Master’s coming and, glad at heart, she thought, “Verily the moon-faced, great Gotama Buddha, my father, my lord, my teacher, has come. After three years I shall see the golden-hued Master again. Now I shall be able to see his golden-hued body, and hear his sweet, most excellent doctrine.” But her father, going to the workshop, said, “My daughter, some one has ordered a robe from me, and a foot of it is not yet woven. I will finish it to-day. Get the shuttle ready for me quickly, and bring it.” She thought, “I want to hear the doctrine of the Master. My father calls me, so how shall I be able to hear the Master’s doctrine? I won’t get my father’s shuttle ready and bring it.” Then she thought, “If I don’t prepare the shuttle, my father might strike and beat me, so I will prepare the shuttle and give it to him and afterwards I will hear the doctrine.” So, sitting down on a chair, she prepared the shuttle.

The inhabitants of Ālavī waited on the Master, took his bowl, and stood for him to give thanks.^[3] The Master thought, “I have come a journey of thirty leagues for the sake of a noble daughter, and now to-day she does not take the occasion. When she takes the occasion I will give thanks.” And he sat down in silence. When the Master is thus silent, no one in the world of gods and men dares to say anything to him.

Meanwhile the girl prepared the shuttle, put it in a basket, took it to her father, and then went to the edge of the assembly, looking for the Master. The Master raised his head and saw her. At the sign of his looking she perceived, “The Master seated in such an assembly as this looks for me and expects my coming, even into his presence he expects my coming.” Setting down the shuttle-basket she went into the presence of the Master. But why did the Master look at her? It was thus that he thought, “If she goes and dies like the common people, her future state of existence will be uncertain, but by coming into my presence she will gain the fruit of the First Path, and her future existence being certain, she will be reborn in the Tusita heaven.” But there was no liberation for her, if she died on that day. She, understanding that she was being looked at, approached the Master, and entering within the six-coloured rays (of his halo), saluted him and stood on one side. And on her saluting the Master, who was seated silent in the midst of such an assembly, as she stood there, he said to her, “My girl, whence have you come?” “I do not know, reverend sir.” “Whither will you go?” “I do not know, reverend sir.” “Do you not know?” “I know, reverend sir.” “Do you know?” “I do not know, reverend sir.” So the Master asked her the four questions, and the multitude murmured, “See, for shame, this weaver’s daughter talks with the All-enlightened One about whatever she wants; surely when she was asked whence she had come, she should have said from the weaver’s house, and when asked where she was going, she should have said to the weaver’s workshop.” The Master, silencing the multitude, asked, “My girl, when you were asked whence you came, why did you say you did not know?” She replied, “Reverend sir, you know that I have come from the weaver’s house, and in asking whence I have come you asked whence I have come in being re-born here, and I do not know whence I have come in being re-born here.” The Master said to her, “Well done, well done, girl, you have explained the question that I asked you.” And expressing approval he asked further, “When you were asked where you will go, why did you say you did not know?” “Reverend sir, you know that I shall take the shuttle-basket and go to the weaver’s workshop. But you asked me where I shall be re-born when I go hence, and I do not know where I shall be re-born, when I go hence after death.” Then the Master said, “You have explained this question also,” and a second time he expressed approval, and asked further, “And why did you say that you knew, when you were asked if you do not know?” “Reverend sir, I know that I shall die, and hence I spoke thus.” The Master said, “You have explained this question also,” and, expressing approval, asked further, “Why, when I said ‘Do you know,’ did you say you did not know?” “I know indeed that I shall die, reverend sir, but that I shall die at such and such a time, such as at night or by day, I do not know, and therefore I spoke thus.” Then the Master said, “You have explained this question also,” and the fourth time he expressed approval, and, addressing the assembly said, “None of you knew what she said, and you only murmured. They who have not the eye of wisdom are blind, and they who have the eye of wisdom are seeing.” So saying he spoke this verse:

Blind and unseeing is the world,
And few are those with insight here;
As a bird from a net released,
But few are they who heaven attain.

When the teaching was ended, the girl was established in the fruit of the First Path, and the teaching was also profitable to the multitude.

Then she took her shuttle-basket and went back to her father. Now he had sat down and was fallen asleep, and she, without noticing, handed him the shuttle-basket. The shuttle-basket knocked against the top of the beam of the loom, and fell, making a noise. He woke up, and seizing the loom he dragged it along. The beam moved, struck her on the breast, and she fell down dead. Then her father looked at her fallen down with all her body blood-stained, and saw that she was dead. And great grief came upon him, and, lamenting, “No one else can extinguish my sorrow,” went into the presence of the Master, and told him of the matter, saying, “Reverend sir, extinguish my sorrow.” The Master consoled him, saying, “Sorrow not, for in the endless round of existence, even as at the time of your daughter’s death, the tears that are shed are more than four oceans.” And he preached a discourse of the endlessness of birth and death. The weaver, with his sorrow appeased, asked the Master for admission to the Order, and receiving ordination he in no long time attained to Arahatship. (Dhammapada Comm. 174.)

XI. The Questions Of Mālunkyāputta

On the subject of this discourse and the two following compare the Introduction, p. 14.

Thus have I heard: The Lord was once dwelling near Sāvatthi, at Jetavana in the park of Anāthapindika. Now the elder Mālunkyāputta had retired from the world, and as he meditated the thought arose: “These theories have been left unexplained by the Lord, set aside, and rejected, whether the world is eternal or not eternal, whether the world is finite or not, whether the soul (life) is the same as the body, or whether the soul is one thing and the body another, whether a Buddha (Tathāgata) exists after death or does not exist after death, whether a Buddha both exists and does not exist after death, and whether a Buddha is non-existent and not non-existent after death—these things the Lord does not explain to me, and that he does not explain them to me does not please me, it does not suit me. I will approach the Lord, and ask about this matter. . . . If the Lord does not explain to me, I will give up the training, and return to a worldly life.”

[When Mālunkyāputta had approached and put his questions the Lord replied:] “Now did I, Mālunkyāputta, ever say to you, ‘Come, Mālunkyāputta, lead a religious life with me, and I will explain to you whether the world is eternal or not eternal [and so on with the other questions]?’” “You did not, reverend sir.” “Anyone, Mālunkyāputta, who should say ‘I will not lead a religious life with the Lord, until the Lord explains to me whether the world is eternal or not eternal [etc.] . . .’ that person would die, Mālunkyāputta, without its being explained. It is as if a man had been wounded by an arrow thickly smeared with poison, and his friends, companions, relatives, and kinsmen were to get a surgeon to heal him, and he were to say, ‘I will not have this arrow pulled out, until I know by what man I was wounded, whether he is of the warrior caste, or a brahmin, or of the agricultural, or the lowest caste.’ Or if he were to say, ‘I will not have this arrow pulled out until I know of what name or family the man is . . . or whether he is tall, or short, or of middle height . . . or whether he is black, or dark, or yellowish . . . or whether he comes from such and such a village, or town, or city . . . or until I know whether the bow with which I was wounded was a chāpa or a kodanda, or until I know whether the bow-string was of swallow-wort, or bamboo-fibre, or sinew, or hemp, or of milk-sap tree, or until I know whether the shaft was from a wild or cultivated plant . . . or whether it was feathered from a vulture’s wing or a heron’s or a hawk’s, or a peacock’s, or a sithilahanu-bird’s . . . or whether it was wrapped round with the sinew of an ox, or of a buffalo, or of a ruru-deer, or of a monkey . . . or until I know whether it was an ordinary arrow, or a razor-arrow, or a vekanda, or an iron arrow or a calf-tooth arrow, or one of a karavīra leaf.’ That man would die, Mālunkyāputta, without knowing all this.

“It is not on the view that the world is eternal, Mālunkyāputta, that a religious life depends; it is not on the view that the world is not eternal that a religious life depends. Whether the view is held that the world is eternal, or that the world is not eternal, there is still re-birth, there is old age, there is death, and grief, lamentation, suffering, sorrow, and despair, the destruction of which even in this life I announce. It is not on the view that the world is finite . . . It is not on the view that a Tathāgata exists after death . . . Therefore, Mālunkyāputta, consider as unexplained what I have not explained, and consider as explained what I have explained. And what, Mālunkyāputta, have I not explained? Whether the world is eternal I have not explained, whether the world is not eternal . . . whether a Tathāgata is both non-existent and not nonexistent after death I have not explained. And why, Mālunkyāputta, have I not explained this? Because this, Mālunkyāputta, is not useful, it is not concerned with the principle of a religious life, does not conduce to aversion, absence of passion, cessation, tranquillity, supernatural faculty, perfect knowledge, Nirvana, and therefore I have not explained it.

“And what, Mālunkyāputta, have I explained? Suffering have I explained, the cause of suffering, the destruction of suffering, and the path that leads to the destruction of suffering have I explained. For this, Mālunkyāputta, is useful, this is concerned with the principle of a religious life; this conduces to aversion, absence of passion, cessation, tranquillity, supernatural faculty, perfect knowledge, Nirvana, and therefore have I explained it. Therefore, Mālunkyāputta, consider as unexplained what I have not explained, and consider as explained what I have explained.” Thus spoke the Lord, and with joy the elder Mālunkyāputta applauded the words of the Lord. (Majjh. Nik. I. 426 ff.)

XII. The Questions Of Uttiya

Uttiya and Vaccha, as will be seen from their mode of addressing Buddha, are not his followers. They are interested in the “views” or metaphysical theories discussed by the various philosophical schools. All such speculation as a means of salvation Buddha rejected. The only view admitted is the “right view” of the Noble Eightfold Path.

Now the wandering ascetic Uttiya approached the Lord, and, having approached, he exchanged friendly greetings with the Lord, and after the customary salutations he sat down at one side. The ascetic Uttiya, as he sat at one side, said, “How is it, sir Gotama, is the world eternal, this being true and any other view foolish?” “I have not explained, Uttiya, that the world is eternal, that this is true and any other view foolish.” “But is the world not eternal, sir Gotama, this being true and any other view foolish?” “This also, Uttiya, I have not explained, that the world is not eternal, that this is true and any other view foolish.” [In the same way Uttiya asks whether the world is finite, whether the soul is the same as the body or different, whether a Buddha exists after death, whether he both exists and does not exist after death, and whether he is both non-existent and not non-existent after death.]

“Well, sir Gotama, when you are asked whether the world is eternal, and whether this is true and any other view false, you say it has not been explained by you. . . . Now what has been explained by you, sir Gotama?” “With higher knowledge, Uttiya, I teach the doctrine to disciples, for the purification of beings, for the overcoming of grief and lamentation, for the destruction of suffering and sorrow, for the acquiring of good conduct and the realization of Nirvana.”

“Once more, sir Gotama, when you teach the doctrine with higher knowledge, for the purification of beings, for the overcoming of grief and lamentation, for the destruction of suffering and sorrow, for the acquiring of good conduct and the realization of Nirvana, will all beings attain this, or a half of them, or a third?” At these words the Lord remained silent. Then the elder Ānanda thought, “The ascetic Uttiya must not get a wrong opinion by supposing that the Samana Gotama, when questioned by him, is embarrassed, and is unable to reply; this would be a painful misfortune for a long time to the ascetic Uttiya.” So the elder Ānanda said to the ascetic Uttiya, “Now then, friend Uttiya, I will give you an example. With an example some intelligent people can understand the meaning of what is said. Suppose, friend Uttiya, a king had a border city with strong foundations and walls, and one gate. It has a gatekeeper, learned, intelligent, and wise, who keeps out strangers, and admits those whom he knows. As he goes all round the city he cannot see an aperture in the ramparts, or even a hole large enough for a cat to enter. He certainly has not the knowledge that such and such a number of living beings enter or leave this city; but in this matter he rather thinks, ‘Whatever beings of larger size enter or leave this city all enter or leave it by this gate.’ And in the same way, Uttiya, the Tathāgata does not care about whether all beings or a half or a third will thereby go [to Nirvana]. On the contrary the Tathāgata in this matter rather thinks, ‘All who have gone, or are going, or will go, reject the five hindrances, the depravities of the mind which weaken the understanding, and with thought firmly fixed on the four earnest meditations duly cultivate the seven faculties for obtaining perfect knowledge, and thus they have gone, are going, or will go from the world.’ But the question which you, friend Uttiya, asked the Lord, you asked from a wrong point of view. Therefore the Lord did not explain it to you.” (Ang. Nik. V. I.93 ff.)

XIII. The Questions Of Vacchagotta

The same questions as in the two previous passages occur in the following discourse with the wandering ascetic Vacchagotta. When asked why he refuses to answer them, Buddha gives the following reply.

“Vaccha, the view that the world is eternal is a jungle, a wilderness, a theatrical show, a perversion, a fetter, and is coupled with suffering, destruction, despair, and pain, and does not tend to aversion, absence of passion, cessation, tranquillity, supernatural faculty, perfect knowledge, Nirvana. . . . Considering it disadvantageous, Vaccha, I have accordingly adopted none of these views.” “But has Gotama any view?” “The Tathāgata, Vaccha, is free from views, for this is what the Tathāgata holds: form, the cause of form, the destruction of form, sensation, the cause of sensation, the destruction of sensation, perception, the aggregates of qualities, consciousness, how they arise and perish. Therefore with the destruction of, and indifference towards, and the ceasing and abandonment of all imaginings, all agitations, all false views of the self or of anything belonging to a self, the Tathāgata is liberated, thus I say.”

“But where is the monk re-born, sir Gotama, whose mind is thus liberated?” “It does not fit the case, Vaccha, to say he is re-born.” “Then, sir Gotama, he is not re-born.” “It does not fit the case, Vaccha, to say he is not re-born.” “Then, sir Gotama, he is both re-born and not re-born.” “It does not fit the case, Vaccha, to say he is both re-born and not re-born.” Then, sir Gotama, he is neither re-born nor not re-born.” “It does not fit the case, Vaccha, to say he is neither re-born nor not re-born” . . . “In this matter, sir Gotama, I feel in a state of ignorance and confusion, and the small amount of faith that I had in Gotama through a former conversation has now disappeared.” “Enough of your ignorance and confusion, Vaccha, for deep is this doctrine, difficult to be seen and comprehended, good, excellent, beyond the sphere of reasoning, subtle, intelligible only to the wise. It is difficult to be understood by you, who hold other views, another faith, other inclinations, another discipline, and have another teacher. Therefore, Vaccha, I will ask you this, and do you explain it as you may please. Do you think, Vaccha, that if a fire were burning before you, you would know that a fire was burning before you?” “If a fire were burning before me, sir Gotama, I should know that a fire was burning before me.” “And if some one asked you on what the fire burning before you depends, how would you explain it?” . . . “I should say that this fire which is burning before me depends on its clinging to grass and sticks.” “If the fire before you were to go out, would you know that the fire before you had gone out?” “If the fire before me were to go out, I should know that the fire had gone out.” “And if some one were to ask you, ‘Vaccha, in what direction has the fire gone which has gone out, to the east, west, north, or south,’ if you were thus asked, how would you explain it?” “It does not fit the case, sir Gotama, to say so, for the fire burned through depending on its clinging to grass and sticks, and through its consuming this, and not getting any other, it is without food, and comes to be what is called extinct.” “And just so, Vaccha, that form by which one would assert the existence of a Tathāgata has ceased, it is uprooted, it is pulled up like a taliput-palm, made non-existent, and not liable to arise again in the future. The Tathāgata, who is released from what is called form, is deep, immeasurable, hard to fathom, and like a great ocean. It does not fit the case to say he is born again, to say he is not born again, to say he is both born again and not born again, or to say he is neither born again nor not born again. . . .”

At these words the wandering ascetic Vaccha said to the Lord, “Sir Gotama, it is as if there were a great sal-tree near a village or town, and from the nature of its growth its branches and leaves were to fall, the pieces of bark, and fibrous wood; and afterwards, with the disappearance of these branches, leaves, pieces of bark, and small fibre, it were to be established, pure in its strength. Even so does this discourse of Gotama, with the disappearance of branches, leaves, pieces of bark and small fibre, stand established, pure in its strength. Wonderful, sir Gotama, wonderful, sir Gotama, it is as if one were setting up what was overturned, or revealing what was hidden, or showing the way to one who was lost, or putting a lamp in the dark—they who have eyes see visible things—even so has the doctrine been expounded by Gotama in many ways. I go to Gotama as a refuge, and to the doctrine, and to the assembly of brethren. May Gotama take me as a lay-disciple from this day forth while my life lasts, who have come to him for refuge.” (Majjh. Nik. I. 485 ff.)

XIV. Birth-Story Of The Blessings Of The Commandments

The Jātaka consists of about five hundred stories of the previous lives of Buddha. Each story is introduced by some incident occurring in the Master’s life as Buddha, such as the backsliding of a brother, or some act of merit among the faithful. Buddha then tells a story of the past, in which the actors in the previous life are usually the same as those whom he is exhorting, and in which Buddha himself as the Bodhisatta always occurs. It is one of the ten powers of a Buddha (see note, p. 90) that he remembers all his former existences. The stories of the past are often folk-tales and beast-fables, much older in origin than Buddhism itself; and consequently the connection between the individuals in the past and in the present may be very slight. The Bodhisatta is sometimes a tree-god or other divinity, who merely witnesses the events, and recites the verses. The stories are not parables, but they hold the same place in the Buddhist moral teaching as do the parables of the New Testament in the Gospels. A birth-story always concludes with one or more verses. It is these verses, the utterances of Buddha, which are the sacred text, the stories themselves being the commentary, explaining how the verses came to be spoken.

The transference of merit which is recorded in the following birth-story is a feature that is not prominent in early Buddhism, but which becomes very important in the teaching as to Bodhisattas in Mahāyānism. The doctrine rests upon a truth, for no one who thinks of what he owes to the devotion of parents, or to the example of others, can call himself morally a self-made man.

This story the Master told while living at Jetavana about a faithful lay-disciple. Now this faithful, joyful, noble disciple, going one day to Jetavana, came in the evening to the bank of the river Aciravati. As the boatman had drawn up his boat on shore and had gone to listen to the doctrine, the disciple saw no boat at the ferry, and, taking joy in meditating on the Buddha, he walked across the river. His feet did not sink in the water.^[4] As though on dry ground he went until he had reached half-way, when he saw waves. Then his ecstasy in meditating on the Buddha became less, and his feet began to sink, but he again strengthened his ecstasy in meditating on the Buddha, and, passing over the surface of the water, entered Jetavana, saluted the Master, and sat on one side. The Master exchanged friendly greetings with him, and asked, “Disciple, as you came on the road did you come with little fatigue?” He replied, “Master, I took joy in meditation on the Buddha, and, receiving support on the surface of the water, I have arrived as though walking on dry ground.” The Master said, “Layman, not you only, on remembering the virtues of the Buddha, received support, but long before, when a ship was wrecked in mid-ocean, laymen remembered the virtues of the Buddha, and received support.” On being asked by the disciple, he told a story of the past.

“Long ago, in the time of the perfectly enlightened Buddha Kassapa, a brother who had entered the First Path embarked in a ship with a barber who was a householder. The barber’s wife said, ‘Sir, let his welfare and ill be your care,’ and put the barber in the hands of the disciple. Now on the seventh day afterwards the ship was wrecked in mid-ocean. The two men alighted on one plank and reached an island. There the barber killed birds, cooked and ate them, and offered them to the lay-disciple. The disciple said, ‘Enough for me,’ and would not eat. He thought, ‘In this place there is no support for us except in the three refuges,’ and fixed his mind on the virtues of the three jewels.^[5] Now as he was thinking, a nāga ^[6] king who had been born on that island changed his body into the form of a great ship. An ocean god was the pilot. The ship was filled with the seven kinds of precious stones. There were three masts of sapphire, the anchor was of gold, the ropes of silver, the planks golden. The ocean god stood in the ship, and called, ‘Does any one want to go to Jambudīpa?’ The lay-disciple said, ‘We wish to go.’ ‘Then come and embark.’ He embarked and called the barber. The ocean god said, ‘It is going for you, not for him.’ ‘Why?’ he asked. ‘He does not practise the virtues of the commandments, that is the reason. I have brought it for you and not for him.’ ‘Very well, I give him a share in my almsgiving, in my keeping of the commandments, and in the powers I have developed.’ The barber said, ‘Sir, I accept with joy.’ ‘Now I will take him,’ said the god, and, putting him on board, brought both men over the ocean and came to the river at Benares. By his supernatural power he produced wealth in the house of both of them, and said, ‘You should keep company with the wise, for if this barber had not kept company with this lay-brother he would have perished in mid-ocean’; and, telling the virtue of keeping company with the wise, he spoke these verses:

Behold, this is the fruit of faith,
Of virtue and of sacrifice,
A nāga in a vessel’s form
Conveys the faithful layman home.

Then with the good keep company,
And with the good associate,
For through his friendship with the good
The barber comes in safety home.

“Thus the ocean god standing in the air declared the doctrine and admonished them, and, taking the nāga king, went to his own abode.”

The Master, after reciting this declaration of the doctrine, made known the truths, and showed the connection of the birth. At the conclusion of the truths the lay-disciple was established in the path of those who are re-born once again. “At that time the layman who had entered the First Path ^[7] attained Nirvana, Sāriputta was the nāga king, and I was the ocean god.” (Jat. No. 190.)

XV. Birth-Story Of King Mahāsīlava

“Resist not him that is evil, but whosoever smiteth thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also.” It has been said that if the principles of the Sermon on the Mount were put into practice, the world could not go on. This story is interesting as showing that a Buddhist asked himself the question whether the principle is practicable, and answered it in the affirmative. It is also curious to notice that the moral expressly inculcated in the verse is the homely one of perseverance. The prose part of the story has probably been transformed, and the verse belonging to an earlier form of the story retained.

Long ago, when Brahmadatta was ruling in Benares, the Bodhisatta was re-born as the son of the chief queen. On his naming-day they gave him the name of prince Sīlava [i.e. the virtuous]. At the age of sixteen he had attained perfection in all branches of learning; and afterwards, on the death of his father, he was established in the kingdom, and under the name of king Mahāsīlava became a righteously ruling king. He built six almshalls, four at the four gates of the city, one in the middle, and one at his palace-door, gave alms to poor travellers, kept the commandments, and performed the fast-day duties, being filled with patience, kindness, and compassion. As a parent cherishes a son seated on his hip, so he cherished all beings, and ruled his kingdom in righteousness.

Now one of his ministers misconducted himself in the harem, and this became commonly known. The ministers informed the king. The king inquiring into the matter found it out himself, and, sending for the minister, said, “Blind fool, you have acted wrongly, you are not worthy to dwell in my kingdom. Take your property, your wife and children, and go elsewhere.” And he sent him forth from the country. The minister left the Kāsi country, and, going to the king of Kosala, gradually became a confidant of the king.

One day he said to the king of Kosala, “Your majesty, the kingdom of Benares is like a honeycomb free from flies. The king is very mild, and with even a small military force it is possible to take the kingdom of Benares.” The king, on hearing his words, thought, “The kingdom of Benares is great; can he be a hired robber in saying it is possible to take it even with a small force?” and he replied, “You are hired for this, I suppose.” “I am not hired, your Majesty, I speak the real truth; if you do not believe me, send me with some men to waste a border village. When the men are taken and brought before the king, he will give them money and send them away.” The king replied, “He speaks as a very brave man, I will test him then “; and sending his men he caused them to waste a border village. The robbers were caught and brought before the king of Benares. The king, on seeing them, asked, “My children, why did you waste the village?” “We cannot get a living,” they said. “Then why did you not come to me? Henceforth do not do the like again.” And, giving them money, he sent them away. They went, and announced to the king of Kosala what had happened. But notwithstanding this he did not dare to go, and again he sent men to waste the country in the middle of the kingdom. In the same way the king gave the robbers money, and sent them away. Notwithstanding this, however, he did not go, but again sent men to plunder in the very streets of Benares. The king gave money to these robbers also, and sent them away likewise. Then the king of Kosala, seeing that he was a very righteous king, said, “I will capture the kingdom of Benares,” and set out with an army.

Now at that time the king of Benares had a thousand invincible heroic warriors, who would not turn back from the advance of a mad elephant, intrepid even against the thunderbolt falling on their heads, and if king Sīlava wished it, able to subdue the whole of Jambudīpa [India]. They, on hearing that the king of Kosala was coming, approached their king, and said, “Your Majesty, the king of Kosala is coming, saying he will take the kingdom of Benares; let us go, and, even before he has entered the border of our kingdom, smite him and capture him.” “My children,” he replied, “for my sake no suffering is to be inflicted upon others. Let those who want kingdoms take this.” And he forbade them to go.

The king of Kosala crossed the border, and entered the middle of the country. Again the ministers of the king of Benares approached him, and spoke as before, but the king again refused. The king of Kosala stopped outside the city, and sent a message to king Sīlava, “Let him either resign his kingdom or give battle.” The king, on hearing, sent the reply, “I have nothing to do with fighting; let him take the kingdom.” And again the ministers approached the king, saying, “Your Majesty, let us not allow the king of Kosala to enter the city; even outside the city let us smite and capture him.” But once more the king refused, and, causing the city gates to be opened, sat with his thousand ministers round him on his throne in the great hall.

The king of Kosala with a great army entered Benares. Not seeing even a single enemy he went to the king’s palace, and, finding the doors open, ascended to the splendidly adorned royal hall, thronged with ministers, caused the guiltless king Sīlava, who was seated there, to be seized with his thousand ministers, and said, “Come, bind this king and his ministers with their hands tightly fastened behind their backs, and take them to a cemetery.^[8] Bury them in holes up to their necks, and so cover them with earth that they cannot move even a hand. At night the jackals will come and do what is fitting.”

The men, hearing the command of the robber king, bound the king and his ministers with their hands tightly fastened behind their backs and took them away. Even at that moment king Sīlava harboured no thought of violence against the robber king, and there was not one of the ministers, when being bound and led off, who could disobey the king’s word, so well disciplined was his assembly.

Then the king’s men took king Sīlava and his ministers, buried them in holes up to their necks, the king in the middle, with the ministers on both sides. They placed them all in holes, scattered earth over and made it firm, and came away. King Sīlava addressed his ministers and exhorted them, “Give not way to anger against the robber king, but practise kindness, my children.”

Now at midnight the jackals came saying, “Let us eat human flesh.” The king and his ministers, on seeing them, gave a shout with one voice. The jackals fled in terror. Then they turned to look back, and, seeing that no one was following, came up again. A second time the men uttered the shout. As many as three times the jackals fled away, and again looking back and seeing that not a single person was following, they thought, “These must be men sentenced to death”; and they became bold, and when the shout was raised again, they did not flee. The oldest jackal came up to the king, and the others approached the ministers. The king, who was clever in device, marked the jackal’s approach, and as though giving him the opportunity to bite, threw back his neck, and as the jackal was biting seized his neck with his teeth, and held him firm as in a vice. Being held by the teeth of the king, who was strong as an elephant, the jackal, firmly held by the neck, and being unable to free himself, was in fear of death, and gave a great howl. The other jackals, hearing his cry of pain, thought he must have been seized by some man, and, not daring to approach the ministers, they all fled in fear of their lives.

Through the king holding firmly to the jackal that he had seized, the earth was loosened, as the jackal moved to and fro, and the terrified animal removed the earth with his four feet on the upper part of the king. Then the king, seeing that the earth was loosened, released the jackal, and, moving to and fro with the strength of an elephant, got both hands free, and clutching the edge of the hole, came out like a cloud driven before the wind, comforted the ministers, removed the earth, took them all out, and stood in the cemetery surrounded by his ministers.

Now at that time some persons had thrown away a corpse in the cemetery, and had placed it on a boundary between the territories of two goblins [yakkhas]. The goblins, being unable to divide the corpse, said, “We cannot divide it, but king Sīlava is righteous, he will divide it and give it to us; let us go to him.” Taking the corpse and dragging it by the foot they went to the king, and said, “Your Majesty, divide this and give it to us.” “Well, goblins,” he replied, “I would divide and give it to you, but I am dirty; I must first bathe.” The goblins, through their magic power, brought scented water prepared for the robber king’s use, and gave it to king Sīlava for bathing. After he had bathed they brought and gave him clothes intended for the robber king. He put these on, and they brought him a box with the four kinds of scent with which he anointed himself, and then various kinds of flowers, placed upon jewelled fans in a gold casket. When he had adorned himself with the flowers, they asked, “Can we do anything else?” The king made a sign of hunger. They went and brought him food flavoured with various kinds of excellent essences, which had been prepared for the robber king, and king Sīlava, bathed, anointed, dressed, and adorned, ate the food flavoured with the various kinds of excellent essences. The goblins brought him scented drink in a golden cup and golden bowl, prepared for the robber king’s use. Then he drank the water and rinsed his mouth, and, as he washed his hands, they brought him the robber king’s betel, prepared with the five kinds of scent, and, after he had chewed it, they asked, “Can we do anything else?” “Go and bring the robber king’s sword of state, which lies by his head-pillow,” said the king; and they went and brought this also. The king took the sword, set the corpse upright, and smote it from the middle of the skull downwards into two parts, and, thus dividing it, gave an equal part to each goblin, and, washing the sword, he stood with it girded on.

Then the goblins ate the flesh, and, being well disposed and delighted in heart, asked, “What else can we do, O king?” “Well, then, by your magic power set me down in the robber king’s royal bedchamber, and put these ministers again each in his own house.” They replied, “Very well, your Majesty,” and did so. At that time the robber king was lying asleep on his royal bed in the royal bedchamber. King Sīlava smote his stomach with the flat of his sword, as he lay asleep and unconscious. He awoke in a fright, and, recognizing king Sīlava by the light of a lamp, arose from his bed, summoned his courage, and stood up and addressed the king, “O king, in a night like this, with the house guarded, the doors shut, and the place inaccessible owing to the guard set, how did you come with sword girded on and fully adorned to my bedside?” The king recounted in full all the details of his coming. The robber king, on hearing, replied with terrified mind, “O king, I, although a man, did not know your virtue, but your virtues are known to fierce and cruel goblins, devourers of flesh and blood; I will no longer, O king, be an enemy to you, who are endowed with such goodness.” Then on the sword he swore an oath, asked the king’s pardon, caused him to lie down on the state bed, while he himself lay on a small couch.

When it dawned and the sun rose, he caused a drum to be sounded, assembled all the trade-gilds, ministers, brahmins, and householders, and recounted before them the virtues of king Sīlava, as though he were making the full moon rise in the heavens. And again in the midst of the assembly he asked the king’s pardon, delivered back the kingdom to him, and said, “Henceforth it shall be my charge to deal with robbers who rise against you. Do you rule your kingdom with me to keep guard.” Then he passed sentence on the calumniator, and with his army departed to his own kingdom. But king Sīlava, splendidly adorned, sat beneath the white umbrella on a golden throne which had legs shaped like those of a deer, and as he beheld his glory he thought, “This great glory and the lives of these thousand ministers being saved would not have happened, if I had not acted with perseverance. It was by the power of perseverance that I recovered this splendour that I had lost, and saved the lives of my thousand ministers. One should show perseverance without abandoning one’s desire, for thus the fruit of practising perseverance ripens.” And, making a solemn utterance, he spoke this verse:

So should a mortal strive and strive,
Let not the wise man be cast down:
This truth in my own fate I see,
According as I wished it came.

Thus the Bodhisatta expressing his solemn utterance in this verse, showing how surely the fruit of perseverance ripens in those who are endowed with virtue, and doing good throughout his life, passed away according to his deeds [karma]. (Jat. No. 51.)

XVI. Birth-Story Of The City With Four Gates

Four of the five gatis or states of re-birth (see Introd. p. 20) occur in the following story: Mittavindaka, in his life as a man, and as inhabitant of hell, the inhabitants of the ghost world in a mitigated state of punishment, and the Bodhisatta, as king of the gods. The term translated “hell” is sometimes called purgatory. It may be called either purgatory, or hell with finite punishment, but there is no doubt that, apart from the punishments not being eternal, such abodes as Lohakumbhī, the burning cauldron, Sanjīva, where beings are cut to pieces and revived to suffer the same punishment, correspond most closely with the popular idea of the Christian hell.

The story was told by the Master for the exhortation of a brother who refused to obey the monastic rules, and the teaching is emphasized by Buddha explaining at the close that Mittavindaka was the disobedient brother himself in a previous existence.

Long ago, in the time of Buddha Kassapa ^[9] of the ten powers ^[10] there lived the son of a chief of gild-merchants, who was worth eight hundred millions. His name was Mittavindaka. His parents had entered the first stage of the Noble Path, but he was vicious and unbelieving. After the death of his father, his mother, who managed the household, said to him, “My son, the state of man is hard for you to obtain; give alms, keep the commandments, perform the fast-day vows, and hear the doctrine.” He replied, “Mother, I have no wish to give alms and so on; tell me nothing of that. I shall go according to my karma.” But, though he answered so, his mother, on a certain fast-day of the full moon, said to him, “My son, to-day is set apart as a great fast-day. Take upon yourself the vows to-day, go to the monastery and hear the doctrine all night, and I will give you a thousand pieces of money.” “Very well,” he replied, and through desire for the money he took upon himself the vows, ate an early meal, went to the monastery and passed the day there; but in order that not a word of the doctrine should reach his ear, he lay down at night in one place and fell asleep. Early next day he washed his mouth, and, returning home, sat down.

And his mother thought, “To-day my son, after hearing the doctrine, will come home early, bringing the elder who preached the doctrine,” and she got ready gruel, and food hard and soft, prepared a seat, waited for his coming, and, seeing him returning alone, said, “My son, why have you not brought the preacher?” “I don’t want a preacher,” he said. “Then drink the gruel,” she replied. “You promised me a thousand pieces,” said he; “give them to me now. I will drink it later.” “Drink it, my son; you shall have them afterwards.” “I will drink it when I have got them.” So his mother set before him the bundle of a thousand pieces. He drank the gruel, took the bundle, and, trading with the money, in no long time gained two millions.

Then he thought that he would get a ship and trade. He did so, and said, “Mother, I am going to do trade with this ship.” But his mother replied, “You are my only son; in this house there is plenty of wealth, and at sea there are many dangers. Do not go.” He replied, “But I will go; you cannot stop me.” She said, “My son, I will stop you,” and took hold of his hand. But he pushed her hand away, struck her, caused her to fall down, shut her in, and went off by ship to sea.

The ship, on the seventh day, because of Mittavindaka, became immovable in the deep. Lots were cast ^[11] to find the unlucky person, and three times the lot was found in Mittavindaka’s hand. So they gave him a raft, saying, “Let not many perish for the sake of this one,” and they put him in the sea. And at that very moment the ship sped on swiftly over the ocean.

Alighting on the raft he reached a certain island. There in a crystal palace he saw four female ghosts. For seven days they used to undergo pain, and then for seven days pleasure. For seven days he experienced with them divine bliss. Then, as they were going away for their punishment, they said, “Master, on the seventh day we shall come back. Until we come back do not be distressed, but stay here,” and they departed.

But he, being in the power of craving, embarked on his raft, and again sailed over the sea, till he reached another island, and there found eight female ghosts in a silver palace. In the same way, on another island he found sixteen in a palace of jewels, and on another thirty-two in a golden palace. And with them he experienced divine bliss. When the time came for these also to undergo punishment, he went again over the sea, and saw a city with four gates, surrounded by a wall. It was the Ussada hell, a place where many inhabitants of hell undergo the consequences of their deeds. But to Mittavindaka it appeared as a city beautifully adorned. He thought, “I will enter this city, and become king.” On entering he saw a being burning in hell, and supporting on his head a razor-wheel. But the razor-wheel on his head seemed like a lotus. The fivefold fetters on his breast seemed like a splendid breastplate, and the blood dripping from his body seemed like red sandal-wood ointment. The sound of lamentation seemed like the sound of sweet singing. Mittavindaka approached him, and said, “Fellow, you have been wearing that lotus long enough, give it to me.” “Friend, it is no lotus, it is a razor-wheel.” “You say that because you don’t wish to give it to me.” The inhabitant of hell thought, “My past deeds [karma] must be exhausted, he must have come for having struck his mother, as I did. I will give him the razor-wheel.” So he said, “Come, sir, take this lotus.” And with these words he threw the razor-wheel on Mittavindaka’s head, and it fell, crushing his skull. At that moment Mittavindaka recognized the razor-wheel, and he cried out, “Take your razor-wheel, take your razor-wheel.” But the other disappeared.

Then the Bodhisatta with a great retinue passed through the Ussada hell, and arrived at that place. Mittavindaka, on perceiving him, said to him, “Master, king of the gods, this wheel has come down on my head, and is grinding it small like sesame seeds. What is the sin that I have done?” And he spoke two verses:

Four gates this city do enclose,
Of iron are the walls, firm-built.
Here am I hindered and confined;
What is the sin that I have done?

All the doors are shut and bolted,
And like a bird am I caged in.
What is the reason, goblin ^[12], tell me,
Why am I smitten with this wheel?

Then the Bodhisatta, king of the gods, to explain the reason spoke six verses:

A hundred thousand didst thou get,
And in addition twenty more;
When thy kinsfolk on thee had pity;
Thou wouldst not to their words give ear

Thou wentest sailing o’er the sea,
An ocean journey, hard to win.
Then to the four thou didst arrive,
And then the eight, and the sixteen.

And from them to the thirty-two.
Then to the wheel, too greedy one,
Thou tamest, driven by greed, and now
The wheel revolves upon thy head.

The city, wide and hard to fill,
Laden with greed thou didst approach.
Who for this city seek in lust,
They shall be bearers of the wheel.

They who will not forgo great wealth;
They who the pathway will not seek,
Who do not know that thus it is,
They shall be bearers of the wheel.

Ponder thy deeds, and thy great wealth consider,
Follow not greed, all vain and useless is it,
And heed the words of those who would thee pity.
If thou art such, the wheel shall not approach thee.

Mittavindaka, on hearing this, thought, “This son of the gods knows exactly what I have done. He will also know how long I have to burn. I will ask him,” and he spoke the ninth verse:

How long upon my head, goblin,
This torturing wheel will it abide
Tell me, how many thousand years?
I ask thee, goblin, say to me.

Then the Great Being in reply uttered the tenth verse:

Be thy torture short or lengthy,
Mittavindaka, hear thou me:
The wheel is thrown upon thy head,
From hero thou canst not free thy life.^[13]

Saying this, the son of the gods went to his own place, and upon the other one came great suffering. (Jat. No. 439.)

XVII. The Pig-Faced Ghost

This story was told while the Master was dwelling at Kalandakanivāpa in the Bamboo Grove near Savatthi about a certain pig-faced ghost. Long ago, in the time of the teaching of the Lord Buddha Kassapa, there was a brother who was self-controlled in body, but uncontrolled in speech, and who used to revile and abuse the brethren. When he died, he was reborn in hell. During the time intervening between the appearance of another Buddha he continued to burn there, and being reborn from thence in the period of this Buddha’s appearance, through the ripening of his karma he came to life as a ghost at the foot of the Vulture Peak near Rājagaha, being tormented by hunger and thirst. His body was golden in colour, and his face like a pig’s face.

Now the elder Nārada dwelt on the Vulture Peak, and early in the morning, after attending to his bodily needs, took his bowl and robe and went to Rājagaha, wandering about for alms. On the way he saw the ghost, and, asking him what he had done ^[14] spoke this verse:

All golden does thy body seem,
In all directions does it shine;
But yet thy face is as a pig’s,
What former action hast thou done?

The ghost, thus asked by the elder what he had done, explained in a verse:

With body self-controlled was I,
Yet was I uncontrolled in speech;
Therefore in colour am I so
As thou beholdest, Nārada.

So the ghost, being asked by the elder, explained the matter, and gave the reason; and, exhorting the elder, spoke this verse:

This to thee, Nārada, I tell,
Thou hast thyself my fate beheld:
Commit no evil with thy mouth,
Become not thou a pig-faced ghost.

Then the elder Nārada went for alms, and, returning in the afternoon with his food, related the matter, while the Master sat in the midst of the fourfold assembly.^[15] The Master said, “Even before now I have seen this being.” And he declared the doctrine, explaining the manifold worthlessness and evil results due to misbehaviour in speech, and the blessings resulting from right speech. And his teaching was beneficial to the assembly present. (Peta-vatthu, Comm.)

XVIII. The Jewel Discourse. A Spell

As Buddhism did not deny the gods, but only their eternity, so it did not deny the existence of the other superhuman beings of Indian mythology. Such beings in the older Hinduism, like the guardian angels and ministering spirits of Christianity, might exert great influence over an individual’s life. All round him the Buddhist saw the power of magic which could ward off enemies, cure diseases, or bring good luck; and he did not succeed in casting off all belief in spells and incantations. By appealing to the spirits in the name of the Triple Jewel—Buddha, the Doctrine, and the Order—he might win their good influence, and even conversion, and, by making offerings to them as alms, would certainly acquire merit.

All spirits whatever that are here assembled,
That haunt the earth, or through the air are passing,
Let all those spirits be well-disposed and kindly,
So may they hear this utterance with attention.

Therefore attend and hearken, all ye spirits,
Show kindness to the race of human beings,
Who bring by day and night to you their offerings,
Therefore with vigilance grant them your protection.

Whatever wealth there may be here or yonder,
Or any perfect jewel in the heavens,
In no wise is it equal to the Buddha—
In the Buddha is this jewel of perfection,
So through this truth to us may there be welfare.

Absence of lust, desire, the immortal, perfect
Doctrine the Sakya Sage attained, the perfect one,
Nought verily is there equal to that Doctrine—
In the Doctrine is this jewel of perfection,
So through this truth to us may there be welfare.

The purity which the best of Buddhas lauded,
The meditation called uninterrupted,
Nought is there equal to that meditation—
In the Doctrine is this jewel of perfection,
So through this truth to us may there be welfare.

The persons eight,^[16] commended by the righteous,
Who form four pairs, worthy are they of offerings.
They hear the teaching of the blessed Master,
Great is the fruit of gifts to them presented—
In the Order is this jewel of perfection,
So through this truth to us may there be welfare.

They who with firm mind have applied themselves,
Free from desire, to Gotama’s instructions,

Their end attained, have gone to the immortal,
Taking the free gift, and enjoy Nirvana—
In the Order is this jewel of perfection,
So through this truth to us may there be welfare.

Like as a pillar at a city’s threshold,
Firm in the ground, by the four winds unshaken,
So I affirm is the good man unshaken,
Who pondering on the noble truths perceives them
In the Order is this jewel of perfection,
So through this truth to us may there be welfare.

They who the noble truths have comprehended,
The truths well-taught by the profoundly Wise One,
They, even though they be exceeding slothful,
Not to the eighth re-birth will be subjected—
In the Order is this jewel of perfection,
So through this truth to us may there be welfare.

He verily, when he attains to insight,
Three things he wholly leaves behind and loses:
False theory of the self, uncertainty,
And all there is of ceremonial practice.
From the four hells that person is delivered,
Nor can he then the six great crimes ^[17] commit—

In the Order is this jewel of perfection,
So through this truth to us may there be welfare.

Whatever act of wickedness the bhikkhu
In deed, or word, or thinking, has committed,
Impossible for him is its concealment,
Impossible for him who has seen the path—
In the Order is this jewel of perfection,
So through this truth to us may there be welfare.

As in a forest grove with tops in flower
In the first month, and in the first hot season,
So did he teach the best supremest doctrine,
The highest truth that leadeth to Nirvana—
In the Buddha is this jewel of perfection,
So through this truth to us may there be welfare.

The Best One, he who knows, gives, brings the best,
The Highest taught the best supremest doctrine—
In the Buddha is this jewel of perfection,
So through this truth to us may there be welfare.

“Destroyed is the old,^[18] the new has not arisen.”
They with their thought not set on future being,
The seeds destroyed, desire not germinated,
Like as this lamp the wise are thus extinguished—
In the Order is this jewel of perfection,
So through this truth to us may there be welfare.

All spirits whatever that are here assembled,
That haunt the earth, or through the air are passing,
The Buddha let us reverence, the Tathāgata,
Worshipped of gods and men. May there be welfare.

All spirits whatever that are here assembled,
That haunt the earth, or through the air are passing,
The Doctrine let us reverence, the Tathāgata,
Worshipped of gods and men. May there be welfare.

All spirits whatever that are here assembled,
That haunt the earth, or through the air are passing,
The Order let us reverence, the Tathāgata,
Worshipped of gods and men. May there be welfare.
(Sutta-Nipāta, II. 1.)

XIX. Dhaniya The Herdsman

The last two verses of the following are not an original part of the poem. They occur independently in the Samyutta Nikāya, iv. 1, 8, where they form one of the temptations of Māra.

Dhaniya: I have boiled my rice, my milking have dwelling,
I ended, On the banks of the river Mahī, with equals
Roofed is my house, my fire alight—
Then if it be thy wish, now rain, O sky.

The Lord: I am free from anger, stubbornness have I ended,
On the banks of the river Mahī for one night dwelling,
Unroofed is my house, my fire ^[19] extinguished—
Then if it be thy wish, now rain, O sky.

Dhan.: Here are no gadflies found to pester me,
In the meadows deep in grass the cattle wander,
They can bear the rain, when it shall come—
Then if it be thy wish, now rain, O sky.

The Lord: Firmly bound is my raft, and well-constructed,
To the farther shore I have crossed, and left the torrent,
Now no longer I need a raft—
Then if it be thy wish, now rain, O sky.

Dhan.: Dutiful is my wife, not wanton is she,
Long with me she has lived, the charming one,
Nought that is bad do I hear of her—
Then if it be thy wish, now rain, O sky.

The Lord: Dutiful is my mind, delivered is it,
Long has it been well-tamed, and duly practised,
Nought that is bad is found in me—
Then if it be thy wish, now rain, O sky.

Dhan.: Self-gained is my livelihood and my earnings,
My children, healthy, are gathered round about me,
Nought that is bad do I hear of them—
Then if it be thy wish, now rain, O sky.

The Lord: Of no one whatsoe’er am I the servant,
With what I earn through all the world I wander,
No need is there to me of wages—
Then if it be thy wish, now rain, O sky.

Dhan.: I have cows, and I have calves,
Cows have I in calf, and cows for breeding,
Also a bull have I, a lord of cattle—
Then if it be thy wish, now rain, O sky.

The Lord: No cows have I, no calves have I,
No cows in calf have I, nor cows for breeding,
Nor even a bull is mine, a lord of cattle—
Then if it be thy wish, now rain, O sky.

Dhan.: The stakes are well rammed in, not to be shaken,
New are the ropes of munja-grass, well-twisted,
Nor will the calves be able to break through them—
Then if it be thy wish, now rain, O sky.

The Lord: I as a bull have broken through the fetters,
Have crushed, as an elephant, the galucchi creeper,
No more shall I the womb of existence enter—
Then if it be thy wish, now rain, O sky.

Then at that moment burst a mighty storm-cloud,
Filling the earth and deep expanse of ocean,^[20]
And hearing the raining of the sky,
These words did Dhaniya the herdsman utter:

“Gain no wise small indeed is ours,
Who see the Lord, endowed with eye of wisdom;
To thee, O Lord, we come and seek a refuge,
Be thou to us the Master, O great Muni.

“Dutiful is my wife, and so am I,
May we lead in the Blessed One a holy life,
And crossed to the farther shore of birth and death,
So may we make an end of grief and pain.”

[Māra: He who is rich in sons delights in sons,
So he in cows delights, who is rich in cows,
For in the passions is the delight of man;
He who is passionless finds no delight.

The Lord: He who is rich in sons finds grief in sons,
So he in cows finds grief, who is rich in cows,
For in the passions is the grief of man;
He who is passionless is free from grief.]
(Sutta-Nipāta, I. 2.).

This is one of the parallels with the New Testament given by Fausböll, and he compares the parable of the rich man who pulls down his barns and builds greater, Luke xii. 16–21. The name Dhaniya means “wealthy.”

Other parallels in the same work are in 7, 4, where Buddha is reproached for not working. He replies: “I also, brahmin, plough and sow, and, having sown, I eat. . . Faith is the seed, virtue the rain, wisdom my yoke and plough, modesty the plough-pole, mind the reins, watchfulness the ploughshare and goad. Strength is my ox; bearing me to the calm of concentration [yoga] he goes without turning back, whither having gone one does not grieve.” Cf. John v. 17, “My Father worketh even until now, and I work.”

II. 2, 4, 11, “The taking of life, killing, cutting, binding, stealing, lying, fraud, and deception . this is impurity, but not the eating of flesh. Neither the flesh of fish, nor fasting, nor the tonsure, matted hair, dirt, or rough skins, nor even the many immortal penances in the world, the hymns, oblations, sacrifices, and worship of the seasons, purify a mortal who has not overcome his doubts.” Cf. Matt. xv. 11, “Not that which entereth into the mouth defileth the man.”

III. 7. “I am an unrivalled king of righteousness [dhamma]; with righteousness I turn the wheel, a wheel that is irresistible.” Cf. John. xviii. 37, “Jesus answered, Thou sayest that I am a king.”

The Discourse on Exertion (III. 2) gives an account of the Temptation by Māra (Matt. iv.). The story of the disciple walking on the water (Jāt. No. 190, above, p. 76) may be compared with St. Peter in Matt. xiv. 28, ff. In the story of the Great Renunciation (p. 32) the words of Kisāgotamī find a parallel in the saying of the woman out of the multitude, recorded in Luke xi. 27. During the festivities at Gotama’s birth an ascetic Asita or Kāla-Devala, like Simeon in Luke ii., does homage to the infant, and weeps because he will not live to see him as Buddha.

A curious Buddhist phrase occurs in the Epistle of St. James iii. 6, “the wheel of birth” (R.V. margin), which is practically identical with the Sanskrit name bhavacakra for the Chain of Causation, p. 37. Dr. Carus says, “The reappearance of this peculiarly Buddhistic term in the New Testament is certainly most startling and perplexing.” But the tendency now is to consider the idea that Christianity owes anything in its origin to Buddhism as quite illusory.

XX. Buddha’s Visit To Chunda

The two following passages are from the Sutta of the Great Decease, an account of the last few months of the life of Buddha. The food which Buddha ate at the meal provided by Chunda has been stated to have been pork. For this there is no foundation. Prof. Monier Williams, who was animated by a strong missionary spirit, even asserted that “the story is that Gautama died from eating too much pork.” The word which is used is not sūkaramamsa, the word used for pork, but sūkaramaddava, which literally means “boar’s soft [food],” and to call it pork is merely a bad guess. It is generally agreed now by scholars (e.g. K. E. Neumann, Prof. Rhys Davids) that it was truffle, Tuber indicum, which still grows on the slopes of the Himalayas, and is eaten by boars.

The Lord, after staying at Bhoganagara as long as he wished, said to the elder Ānanda, “Come, Ānanda, we will go to Pāvā.” “Yes, reverend sir,” the elder Ānanda replied. Then the Lord, with a great retinue of brethren, proceeded to Pāvā. There the Lord dwelt at Pāvā in the mango-grove of Chunda, who was of a family of smiths. Now Chunda the smith heard that the Lord had arrived at Pāvā, and was dwelling in his mango-grove. So Chunda the smith approached the Lord, and, having approached, he saluted the Lord, and sat down on one side. As he sat on one side the Lord instructed, aroused, incited, and gladdened him with a discourse on the doctrine. Then Chunda the smith, instructed, aroused, incited, and gladdened by the discourse on the doctrine, said to the Lord, “Let the reverend Lord accept food from me to-morrow with the retinue of brethren.” By his silence the Lord assented. So Chunda the smith, perceiving the assent of the Lord, arose from his seat, saluted the Lord, and, passing round him to the right, went away.

The next day Chunda the smith caused to be prepared in his house excellent food, hard and soft, and much truffle, and caused it to be announced to the Lord, “It is time, reverend sir; the meal is ready.” So the Lord, in the morning, dressed himself, took his bowl and robe, and with the retinue of brethren went to the abode of Chunda the smith. On arriving he sat on the appointed seat, and said to Chunda the smith, “Serve me, Chunda, with the truffles that are prepared, and serve the retinue of brethren with the other hard and soft food prepared.” “Yes, reverend sir,” assented Chunda the smith, and served the Lord with the truffles prepared, and the retinue of brethren with the other hard and soft food. Then the Lord said to Chunda the smith, “The truffles that remain, Chunda, bury in a pit. I see no one in the world of gods and men, of Māra, of Brahma, or among ascetics and brahmins, gods and men, by whom it could be eaten and properly digested, except by the Tathāgata.” “Yes, reverend sir,” assented Chunda, and, burying the remaining truffles in a pit, he approached the Lord, and, having approached, he saluted the Lord and sat down on one side. As he sat on one side, the Lord instructed, aroused, incited, and gladdened him with a discourse on the doctrine, and then arose from his seat and departed.

Then there arose in the Lord, after he had eaten the food of Chunda the smith, sharp pain and dysentery, and violent mortal pains set in. Conscious and self-possessed the Lord endured them without anxiety, and said to the elder Ānanda, “Come, Ānanda, let us go to Kusinārā.” “Yes, reverend sir,” the elder Ānanda assented. (Mahāparinibbāna S. IV.)

XXI. The Death Of Buddha

Kusinārā (now Kasia), to which Buddha journeyed after recovering from his sickness, was in the Mallian country, about 140 miles east of Sāvatthi; and it was there where he gave his last instructions and passed away. In the stages of mystic ecstasy described below, the first four are called jhānas, or mystic meditations. These are the four lower stages, in which the person meditating is still distinct from the object. They will be found described in Rhys Davids’ Buddhism, p. 175. The four higher stages, in which the thinker and object are identified, are called attainments, but there are really eight attainments corresponding to the eight degrees. These eight stages correspond to the higher divisions of the universe. The universe consists of three great divisions, kāmāvacara, the domain of sensual desire, rūpāvacara, the world of form in four degrees, corresponding to the four degrees of jhāna, and the formless world, to which correspond the four higher degrees of ecstasy.

Then the Lord said to the elder Ānanda, “It may be, Ānanda, that you may think, ‘Passed away is the utterance of the Master, we have a Master no more.’ Not so, Ānanda, is it to be so regarded. The doctrine and discipline which have been taught and laid down by me is the Master after my departure. And as now, Ānanda, the brethren address one another as ‘friend’ [āvuso], after my departure they are not so to address them. An elder brother is to address a younger brother by his name, or family name, or the term ‘friend,’ and a younger brother is to address an elder brother as ‘reverend sir’ [bhante], or ‘elder’ [āyasmā]. Let the assembly, Ānanda, if it so wish, after my death, abolish some commands of minor importance. On Channa, Ānanda, after my departure the brahma-punishment is to be imposed.” “What, reverend sir, is the brahma-punishment?” “The brother Channa, Ānanda, may say what he wishes, he is not to be addressed by the brethren, nor admonished, nor instructed.”

Then the Lord addressed the brethren, “It may be, that even a single brother may be in doubt or uncertainty about the Buddha or the doctrine or the path or the course of conduct. Ask, brethren; do not with regret say afterwards, ‘The Master was face to face with us, and we could not ask the Lord face to face.’” At these words the brethren were silent. [A second time and a third time the Lord thus addressed the brethren.] And even a third time the brethren were silent. Then the Lord addressed the brethren, “It may be, brethren, that you do not ask out of reverence for the Master; let a friend tell it to his friend.” At these words the brethren were silent. Then the elder Ānanda addressed the Lord, “Wonderful, reverend sir, marvellous, reverend sir, in this assembly of brethren there is not even a single brother who is in doubt or uncertainty about the Buddha, or the doctrine, or the assembly, or the path, or the course of conduct.” “With faith, Ānanda, have you spoken, and in this matter, Ānanda, the Tathāgata has the knowledge that in this assembly not even a single brother is in doubt or uncertainty about the Buddha, or the doctrine, or the assembly, or the path, or the course of conduct. For in this assembly of five hundred brethren the lowest brother has entered the stream, is not liable to be born in a lower state of existence, is sure, and destined to attain perfect knowledge.” Then the Lord addressed the brethren, “Well then, brethren, I now exhort you. Impermanent are compound things; strive with earnestness.” These were the last words of the Tathāgata.

Then the Lord reached the first Ecstasy, and ascending from the first he reached the second, from the second he reached the third, and from the third he reached the fourth. From the fourth he reached the abode of infinite space, from the Attainment of the abode of infinite space he reached the abode of infinite consciousness, from the Attainment of the abode of infinite consciousness he reached the abode of nothingness, from the Attainment of the abode of nothingness he reached the abode of neither perception nor non-perception, and from the Attainment of the abode of neither perception nor non-perception he reached the destruction of sensation and perception. Then the elder Ānanda addressed the elder Anuruddha, “Reverend Anuruddha, the Lord has attained Nirvana.” “No, friend Ānanda, the Lord has not attained Nirvana, he has attained the destruction of sensation and perception.” Then the Lord from the Attainment of the destruction of sensation and perception reached the abode of neither perception nor non-perception, from the Attainment of the abode of neither perception nor non-perception he reached the abode of nothingness, from the Attainment of the abode of nothingness he reached the abode of infinite consciousness, from the Attainment of the abode of infinite consciousness he reached the abode of infinite space, from the Attainment of the abode of infinite space he reached the fourth Ecstasy, from the fourth the third, from the third the second, from the second the first, from the first the second, from the second the third, and from the third the fourth, and immediately after ascending from the fourth the Lord attained Nirvana.

When the Lord attained Nirvana, at the time of the Nirvana, there was a great shaking of the earth, terrifying and frightful, and the drums of the gods resounded. When the Lord attained Nirvana, at the time of the Nirvana, Brahma Sahampati uttered this verse:

All beings in the world must lose
Their compound selves ^[21] and disappear.
So such a Master as was he,
A man unrivalled in the world,
The Lord endowed with all the powers,
The All-wise, has Nirvana reached.

When the Lord attained Nirvana, at the time of the Nirvana, Sakka, king of the gods, uttered this verse:

Impermanent are compound things,
Growth is their nature and decay;
They grow up, and they cease again,
Good is it when they pass away.

When the Lord attained Nirvana, at the time of the Nirvana, the elder Anuruddha uttered these verses:

No longer breathed he in or out
With firm-fixed mind, the Holy one,
Free from desires, in peace resting,
Then when the great Sage passed away.

With mind unshaken, resolute,
Did he endure the suffering.
As the extinction of a flame,
Even so was his mind’s release.

When the Lord attained Nirvana, at the time of the Nirvana the elder Ānanda uttered this verse:

Then was a terrifying dread,
Then was a frightful awe and fear,
When he adorned with all the signs,^[22]
The All-wise One, Nirvana reached.
(Mahāparinibbāna S. VI.)

XXII. The Non-Existence Of Individuality

The denial of the individual in the following is not the denial of a fact of existence, but of the theory which was then and is still held, that there is some permanent entity behind the passing phenomena, which gives unity to what we call the individual. Our own theory of the soul, which has come down from Plato, has much in common with the ātman-theory opposed by Nāgasena. In one respect both Plato and Nāgasena make the same logical point. If you infer an entity behind an individual man, you must also logically infer it behind every individual thing, such as a chariot. Nāgasena rejects both entities, and Plato equally logically accepts both. His solution is not identical with the Indian view, but it is an acceptance of the view that it is more than the constituent parts which makes a thing what it is. In each thing—a bed, is Plato’s example—he assumes “the existence of some one Form, which includes the numerous particular things to which we apply the same name” (Rep. X).

Now king Milinda approached the elder Nāgasena, and, having approached, he exchanged friendly greetings with him, and after the customary salutations he sat down at one side. And the elder Nāgasena returned the greeting, whereby he won the heart of king Milinda. Then king Milinda said to Nāgasena, “How is your reverence known, what is your name?” “O king, I am known as Nāgasena, my fellow brethren address me as Nāgasena, but whether parents give the name Nāgasena, or Sūrasena, or Vīrasena, or Sīhasena, nevertheless, O king, Nāgasena and so on is a term, appellation, designation, a mere name, for in this matter the individual does not exist.”

So king Milinda said, “Let the five hundred Greeks and eighty thousand brethren hear me. Thus says this Nāgasena, that in this matter the individual does not exist; is it a wise thing to approve of this?” Then king Milinda said to Nāgasena, “If, reverend Nāgasena, the individual does not exist, who then gives you your robes, bowls, dwellings, and medicines necessary for the sick? Who enjoys them? Who keeps the commandments? Who practises meditation? Who realizes Nirvana of great fruit? Who destroys life? Who takes what is not given? Who indulges in evil lusts? Who speaks untruth? Who drinks intoxicants? Who commits the five crimes ^[23] that bring their fruit even in this life? Therefore there is no good, no bad, there is no doer of good or evil deeds, and no one who causes them to be done. There is no fruit or ripening of the fruit of good and bad actions. If, reverend Nāgasena, any one were to kill you, he would not be guilty of taking life, nor have you even a teacher, or instructor, or ordination. When you say that your fellow brethren call you Nāgasena, who in this matter is Nāgasena? Can it be, reverend sir, that Nāgasena is the hair ^[24]?” “No, O king.” “Is he the hair of the body?” “No, O king.” “Is Nāgasena the nails, teeth, skin, flesh, sinews, bones, marrow, kidneys, heart, liver, abdomen, spleen, lungs, intestines, mesentery, stomach, excrement, bile, phlegm, pus, blood, sweat, fat, tears, serum, saliva, mucus, lubricating fluid, urine, or brain in the head?” “No, O king.” “Can the body be Nāgasena?” “No, O king.” “Or the sensations, the perceptions, the predispositions [elements of the mental and moral character], or the consciousness?” “No, O king.” “Then, reverend sir, is Nāgasena the body, sensations, perceptions, predispositions, and consciousness combined?” “No, O king.” “Well, reverend sir, is Nāgasena anything else than these five?” “No, O king.”

“Reverend sir, I ask and ask you, and do not perceive Nāgasena. Is Nāgasena anything but a mere word? Who is Nāgasena in this matter? You are uttering a falsehood: there is no Nāgasena.”

Then the elder Nāgasena said to king Milinda, “You, O king, are of noble birth and very delicately nurtured; when you walk at midday with your feet on the hot ground and burning gravel, treading the hard pebbles and stones, your feet hurt, your body is wearied, your mind is afflicted, and the consciousness arises that your body is pained. Now, did you come on foot, or in a carriage?” “I did not come on foot, reverend sir, I came in a chariot.” “If your majesty came in a chariot, explain to me what a chariot is. Can the chariot-pole be the chariot, O king?” “No, reverend sir.” “Is the axle the chariot?” “No, reverend sir.” “Are the wheels, or the frame, or the banner-staff, or the yoke, or the reins, or the goad, the chariot?” “No, reverend sir.” “Then, O king, is the chariot all these parts?” “No, reverend sir.” “Well, O king, is the chariot anything else than these?” “No, reverend sir.” “O king, I ask and ask you, and do not perceive a chariot. Is ‘chariot’ anything but a mere word? What is a chariot in this matter? Your majesty is uttering a falsehood: there is no chariot. You are the first king in all India: of whom are you afraid in uttering a falsehood? Let the five hundred Greeks and eighty thousand brethren hear me. Thus says this king Milinda, that he came in a chariot, but when he is asked, ‘If your majesty came in a chariot, explain to me what a chariot is,’ he does not produce a chariot; is it a wise thing to approve of this?”

At these words the five hundred Greeks applauded the elder Nāgasena, and said to king Milinda, “Now let your majesty talk if you can.”

So king Milinda said to the elder Nāgasena, “I utter no falsehood, reverend Nāgasena: resulting from the chariot-pole, the axle, the wheels, the frame, the banner-pole, there is that which goes under the term, designation, and name of chariot.” “Well does your majesty understand what a chariot is, and even so, resulting from my hair, and so on [the thirty-two parts of the body, and the other groups of elements], there is that which goes under the term, designation, and name of Nāgasena. But in the strict sense there is no individual in the matter. And it was said by the sister Vajirā, O king, in the presence of the Lord:

For just as when its parts are joined,
A chariot, as ‘tis termed, exists,
So when the khandhas are combined,
A being then exists, we say.

“Wonderful, reverend Nāgasena, marvellous, reverend Nāgasena, most excellently have the intricate questions been answered. If the Buddha were to stand here, he would applaud. Well done, well done, Nāgasena, excellently have the intricate questions been answered.” (Questions of Milinda, 25 ff.)

XXIII. Non-Individuality And Moral Responsibility

The king said, “Reverend Nāgasena, what is reborn?” The elder replied, “Mind and body [name and form], O king, are re-born.” “Is it just this mind and body that is re-born?” “Not just this mind and body, O king, but with this mind and body a man does deeds [karma], either good or evil, and through these deeds another mind and body is re-born.” “If, reverend sir, it is not just this mind and body that is re-born, surely he will be liberated from his evil deeds?” The elder replied, “If he were not re-born, he would be liberated from his evil deeds, but just because he is re-born he is not liberated from his evil deeds.”

“Give me an example.” “Just as if, O king, a man were to steal a mango from another man, and the owner of the mango were to take him and bring him before the king, saying, ‘Your majesty, my mangoes have been stolen by this man’; and the thief were to reply, ‘Your majesty, I did not take his mangoes. The mangoes that he planted are not the same as those I stole. I am not liable to punishment.’ Now would the man, O king, be liable to punishment?” “Yes, reverend sir, he would.” “Why?” “Whatever he might say, he could not deny the first mango, and he would be liable to punishment for the last.” “Even so, O king, through this mind and body a man does good or evil deeds, and through those deeds another mind and body is re-born. Hence he is not liberated from his evil deeds. . . .”

“Give me a further example.” “Just as if, O king, a man were to buy a pot of milk from a cowherd, and were to leave it in his charge and go away, saying, ‘I will come and take it tomorrow’; and he were to come the next day, when it had turned to curds, and say, ‘Give me my pot of milk,’ and he should give him the curds, and the other were to say, ‘I did not buy curds from you; give me my pot of milk.’ The other would reply ‘Without your knowing it, the milk has turned to curds.’ If they came disputing before you, in whose favour would you decide?” “In favour of the cowherd, reverend sir.” “Why?” “Because, whatever he might say, nevertheless it is just from the milk that the curds are derived.” “Even so, O king, through this mind and body a man does good or evil deeds, and through those deeds another mind and body is re-born. Hence he is not liberated from his evil deeds.” “You are a clever man, Nāgasena.” (Questions of Milinda, 46 ff.)

THE END

Footnotes

^[1] The four guardian deities of the world.

^[2] The word is nibbuta. It is the same word that is translated “happy” in the utterance of Kisāgotamī. Gotama plays on the other meaning of the word, and makes her saying an argument for renunciation.

^[3] This consisted in giving them some instruction in the doctrine, as at his previous visit.

^[4] Cf. St. Peter walking on the sea, Matt. xiv. 28.

^[5] See the Jewel Discourse below.

^[6] Nāgas were superhuman beings represented in Indian sculptures as hooded snakes with several heads. They were capable of assuming any form.

^[7] The First Path, or first stage of the Noble Eightfold Path, is “entering the stream,” conversion. The second stage is that of those who will only be re-born once in this world; the third, that of those who will not be re-born in this world, but only in a higher existence; the fourth, that of the Arahat, the fruit or second degree of which is Nirvana.

^[8] The Pāli word means a cemetery for the disposal of dead bodies which have not received the due rites of cremation and burial.

^[9] Previous to the historical Buddha were twenty-four other Buddhas in previous ages, of whom Kassapa was the twenty-fourth. They are of course quite unhistorical.

^[10] The ten powers (bala) of a Buddha are knowledge of what is possible and impossible, knowledge of the consequences of actions, knowledge of the different elements, knowledge of the different dispositions of men, knowledge of the higher or lower mental powers of men, knowledge of the path that leads to all the highest objects, knowledge of the origin, disappearance, and corruption of the contemplations, liberations, meditations, and attainments, knowledge of remembering former existences, knowledge of divine sight, knowledge of the destruction of the passions.

^[11] Cf. Jonah i. 7.

^[12] So Mittavindaka addresses the Bodhisatta, as if he were a demon.

^[13] I.e. he has to spend a lifetime in hell according to his karma.

^[14] I.e. what karma had brought him to that state.

^[15] Brethren, sisters, lay brethren, lay sisters.

^[16] The persons on the four stages of the Eightfold Path. Each stage is divided into two degrees, the way and the fruit, forming eight classes or four pairs.

^[17] Murder of a mother, a father, an Arahat, shedding the blood of a Buddha, causing schism in the Order, following other teachers.

^[18] I.e., karma.

^[19] I.e. the fire of lusts. The same thought occurs in the solemn utterance (udāna) of Buddha at his enlightenment:

Through the numberless round of births
All fruitlessly my course has been,
Seeking the builder of the house [i.e. the body]—
Birth again and again is pain.

Housebuilder, I behold thee now,
Again a house thou shalt not build;
Demolished are thy rafters all,
Thy ridge pole also is destroyed.
Free from birth’s elements, my mind
Destruction of desires has reached.
(Dhammapada, 153, 154.)

^[20] Victor Henry takes it to be understood that the wealth of Dhaniya is destroyed in the storm.

^[21] Samussayam, “The result of the temporary collocation of the aggregations (khandha) of mental and material qualities which give to each being . . . its outward and visible shape, its individuality. Loka is here not the world in our sense, but the locality in the Buddhist universe which such an individual occupies until it is dissolved.”—Prof. Rhys Davids.

^[22] A Buddha has thirty-two marks or signs on his body, and eighty minor marks. Some of these are distinguishable in statues of Buddha, e.g. the conical protuberance of the skull, and the hair in short curls, which is represented by small knobs on the head. At the Great Renunciation he cut his hair short, and it remained two fingers long for life. The powers spoken of by Brahma are the ten powers of a Buddha.

^[23] The first five of the six great crimes mentioned in the Jewel Discourse.

^[24] This list is the Formula of the thirty-two parts of the body, a subject of meditation for realizing the doctrine of the impermanence of things. It occurs in the first section of the Miscellaneous Collection of Discourses.