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Buddha replied in the following manner: "The fulfilment of the religious duties consists in observing carefully the five precepts obligatory on all men. The religious disposition is but a loving inclination and affection for all that refers to Buddha and the law that he has published. He who possesses it experiences a continual longing for the acquisition of merits. The renouncing is that disposition a man is habitually in when he finds his pleasure in parting with his riches for the purpose of relieving the needy and bestowing alms on the members of the a.s.sembly. Finally, wisdom consists in making one's self perfectly acquainted with what can procure merits for the present and the future; under its influence man acts up to that knowledge, and also attends with the utmost diligence to what may put an end to the law of miseries."
Even among his nearest relatives, Buddha was doomed to meet with the bitterest enemies. Thouppabuda, who was at once his uncle and his father-in-law, bore to him a deadly hatred, and secretly harboured in his heart a sentiment of revenge, for two princ.i.p.al reasons, because his daughter Yathaudara had been abandoned by Gaudama, when he left his palace and began the life of an ascetic; and also for having admitted his own son Dewadat among the members of the a.s.sembly. Having been informed that on the following day Buddha would direct his steps towards a certain quarter of the town to beg his food, Thouppabuda partook largely of intoxicating liquor, to nerve himself for the execution of the design he had in his mind, and went out in the direction in which Gaudama was expected to come. As soon as he saw him drawing near, he planted himself in the middle of the road, barring the pa.s.sage, and loading his great relative with abuses. Buddha stopped awhile without showing the least sign of emotion. Then turning to Ananda, he said, "Great is the crime of my uncle; seven days hence he shall be swallowed up alive by the earth at the foot of the great staircase of his palace."
On this fearful prediction being reported to Thouppabuda, he laughed and stated that he would stay during eight days in the upper story of his palace, and belie his nephew's prediction. Despite the precautions that he took, the fatal prediction was literally fulfilled. The unfortunate unrepenting prince saw the earth burst open under his feet, and he was precipitated to the very bottom of the Awidzi h.e.l.l. Buddha took advantage of the awful punishment that had befallen a prince of his family to exhort Mahanan to seek a firm asylum in the three precious things, to bear a sincere love and an affectionate fondness to all that related to the law and its practices.
Up to the present period of his life, Buddha had reserved to himself the right of preaching the law to and extolling the merits of those who had brought him his food, after having partaken of their liberal donation.
This instruction may be properly called the sermon of thanksgiving. It is called Anou-mau-dana. Now he allowed his disciples to do the like, and repay the generosity of their benefactors by distributing unto them the knowledge of truth.
At that time Buddha preached the four laws of A-sa-wan, or the four bands that retain a being in the vortex of existences. From Kapilawot Buddha returned to Thawattie in the Dzetawon monastery. At that time a Nat had proposed four questions to his companions which they had not been able to answer. They were subsequently communicated to all the denizens of the six seats of Nats, but no one had been able to solve the difficulty. Not knowing what to do, they agreed to refer the particulars to the most excellent Buddha, then in the Dzetawon monastery. A deputation was forthwith sent to him with the view of proposing to him the puzzle, and entreating him to condescend to give the much-desired solution. The members of the deputation having duly paid their respects, said to him, "O most excellent Phra, which is the best thing to be bestowed in alms? Which is the most savoury and relishing of all things? Which is the most pleasurable? Which is the best and the fittest thing to put an end to pa.s.sions?" To these four questions Buddha answered by one word--"The law." Addressing himself both to the Nats and to his a.s.sembled disciples, he added, "The giving of alms, though good in itself, cannot introduce a being into the path that leads to the deliverance. The law alone can afford such a benefit. The preaching of the law, and the exertions in communicating its knowledge to others, are therefore the most excellent alms. All that in this world confers pleasure to the senses is but a means to plunge man into the vortex of existences, and thereby into all miseries. On the contrary, the hearing of the law rejoices the heart to such an extent as often to open a spring of joyful tears; it destroys concupiscence, and leads gradually out of the whirlpool of existences. It establishes man in the state of Arahat, which is the end of all pa.s.sions. The law, therefore, is the most savoury, the most pleasing thing, leading beings to the cessation of all miseries. You, my beloved disciples, exert yourselves in making known by your preaching the said law to all beings. This is the most excellent alms that you can bestow on the beings that inhabit the three different states of men, Nats, and Brahmas."
Buddha soon left Thawattie and went to Alawee. A Biloo was in the habit of eating every day some children of that place. Owing to the ravenous and horrible appet.i.te of the monster, all the children had been eaten up; there remained only the child of the king, who was on the following day to be given over to him. Buddha reviewed, as usual, on a certain morning the condition of all beings. He saw the sad position of the king of Alawee and of his son. He resolved to proffer a.s.sistance to both, and also to convert the Biloo. He arrived in the country of Alawee, where he was received with every mark of respect. He forthwith went into the forest where the monster lived. At first he met with a most determined and violent opposition. But, opposing to his enraged antagonist meekness, patience, and kindness, Buddha gradually softened that terrible nature. Concealing affectedly the change which was taking place in him, almost against his perverse inclination, the Biloo said to Buddha, "I have put certain questions to many famous ascetics, but they have not been able to answer them. On seeing their utter incapacity, I have seized them, torn their bodies in pieces, and flung their quivering limbs into the Ganges. Such shall be your fate, O Gaudama, if your science fails you on this occasion. By what means can a man get out of the stream or current of pa.s.sions? How can he cross over the sea of existences? How can he free himself from the evil influence? How shall he be able to purify himself from the smallest stain of concupiscence?"
Buddha replied: "Listen, O Biloo, to my words; my answer shall fully satisfy you. By faith in and affection for the three precious things, man escapes from the current of pa.s.sions. He who applies himself with a diligent earnestness to the study of the law of merits pa.s.ses over the sea of existences. He who strives to practise the works that procure merits frees himself from evil influence, and from the attending miseries. Finally, the knowledge of the four meggas or ways to perfection procures perfect exemption from the least remnant of concupiscence." The Biloo, delighted with what he had heard, believed in Buddha, and soon was firmly established in the state of Thautapan. On that spot, where so glorious and unexpected a conversion had taken place, a monastery was erected. Buddha spent herein the sixteenth season. As usual, myriads of Nats and men who had heard his preachings obtained the deliverance.
From Alawee Buddha went to Radzagio, and spent the seventeenth season in the Weloowon monastery. During that season a famous courtesan, named Thirima, sister of the celebrated physician Dzewaka, renowned all over the country for her wit and the incomparable charms of her person, wished to show her liberality to the disciples of Buddha. Every day a certain number of them went to her dwelling to receive, along with their food, abundant alms. One of the pious mendicants, in an unguarded moment, moved by an unholy curiosity, looked at her, and was instantly smitten by her charms. The mortal wound was widened and deepened by a fortuitous occurrence. On a certain day Thirima fell sick. But she did not relax in her daily work of charity. Weak though she was, and in her _negligee_, she insisted on the mendicants being introduced into her room, that she might pay her respects to them. The unfortunate lover was among the company. Her incomparable charms were heightened by her plain dress and drooping att.i.tude. The poor lover went back with his brethren to the monastery. The arrow had penetrated to the core of the heart. He refused to take any food, and during some days completely estranged himself from the society of his brethren. While the intestine war raged in his bosom, Thirima died. Buddha, desirous to cure the moral distemper of the poor religious, invited King Pimpasara to be present when he should go with his disciples to see the remains of Thirima. On the fourth day after Thirima's death he went to her house with his disciples. There her body was laid before them, with a livid appearance, and all swollen. Countless worms already issuing out through the apertures, rendered the sight loathsome, whilst a horrible stench almost forbade a standing close to it. Buddha coolly asked the king, "What is that object which is stretched before us?" "Thirima's body," replied the king. "When she was alive," retorted Buddha, "people paid a thousand pieces of silver to enjoy her for a day. Would any one take her now for half that sum?" "No," replied the king; "in all my kingdom there is not one man who would offer the smallest sum to have her remains; nay, no one could be found who would be willing to carry her to any distance unless compelled to do so." Buddha, addressing the a.s.sembly, said, "Behold all that remains of Thirima, who was so famous for her personal attractions! What has become of that form which deceived and enslaved so many? All is subjected to mutability; there is nothing real in this world." On hearing the instruction, eighty-two thousand persons obtained the knowledge of the four truths. The Rahan who, because of his pa.s.sion, would not eat his food, was entirely cured of his moral distemper, and firmly established in the state of Thautapan. All this happened whilst Buddha spent his seventeenth season in the bamboo-grove monastery.
When the season was over, he went, as usual, to preach in every direction, and returned to Thawattie, to the Dzetawon monastery. His stay in that place was not long. He undertook another voyage to Alawee.
He was received with the greatest demonstrations of joy by the people, who gladly ministered to all his wants. On a certain day, when he was to receive large offerings from the people and preach to them, it happened on that occasion that a poor pounha, who was very desirous to hear his instructions, was informed at an early hour of that very day that one of his cows had gone astray from the herd and could not be found. Hereupon he felt greatly aggrieved. He was afraid to let go the golden opportunity to hear the instruction. However, he trusted that by making the utmost diligence he would be back in time. He ran in all haste until he found the strayed animal and brought it back. It was nearly midday when he returned to the town. Though pressed with the pangs of hunger and overwhelmed with fatigue, he went straight forward to the place where the congregation was a.s.sembled. The offerings had been brought a long while ago; the people out of respect stood motionless, with their hands joined, in the presence of Buddha, who, contrary to the general expectation, remained perfectly silent. With his supernatural vision he had seen the perfect dispositions of the poor pounha. He would have him to share in the blessing of his instruction. As soon as the pounha had taken his place among the hearers, Buddha, casting a benevolent glance towards him, beckoned him to come near his person. Meantime, he ordered some of his disciples to bring the poor man some food, because he was very hungry; and he would not condescend to begin the instruction till the man had been relieved from the pangs of hunger by a good meal. When the preaching was over, several Rahans ridiculed the attention paid by their master to a common man. Buddha, knowing their innermost thoughts, spoke to them by way of an instructive rebuke: "Beloved sons, you seem to be surprised at my behaviour towards that poor pounha. But I had perceived at once the super-excellent dispositions of that man, his craving for the holy law, and his lively and strong faith in me, which prompted him to lay no stress on hunger, nor on fatigue, and to make no account of his personal discomforts, in order to satisfy his earnest longings for the law." On that occasion an immense number of hearers were converted.
Buddha went to a monastery built on a hill, near the town of Tsalia, where he spent the eighteenth season. In that town there was a weaver, who had one daughter, who followed the same profession as her father.
The damsel was very desirous to hear Buddha's preachings; but on the day when Buddha was to come into the town to deliver instructions to the people, it happened she had to finish the weaving of a piece of cloth that was urgently required by the owner. She then said to herself: I will exert myself with so much diligence that I will be enabled both to finish my work and listen to my teacher's preaching. She set instantly to work, wound up the thread on the quill, and took it with her, to carry it to the shed where her father's loom was. On her way to the shed, she had to pa.s.s near the place where a motionless congregation stood before Buddha, eagerly waiting for the words that were to fall from his mouth. She laid aside her quill, loaded with thread, and squatted timidly behind the last rank of the congregation. Buddha had seen at a glance the perfect dispositions of the young girl. It was chiefly for her benefit that he had undertaken a long journey and come over to that place. As soon as he saw her, he made her draw nearer to him. The injunction was joyfully complied with. With an encouraging tone of voice, Buddha asked her whence she came and whither she was going.
The damsel modestly answered that she knew whence she came, and also whither she was going; at the same time, she added that she was ignorant of the place she came from, and of the place she was going to. On hearing this apparently contradictory answer, many of the hearers could scarcely refrain from giving vent to indignant feelings. But Buddha, who had fathomed the girl's wisdom, prayed them to be silent. Then, turning towards his young interlocutor, he desired her to explain the meaning of her answer. She said: "I know that I come from my father's house, and that I go to our loom-shed; but what existence I have come from to this present one, this I am entirely ignorant of. I am likewise uncertain about the existence that shall follow this one. About these two points I am completely ignorant; my mind can discover neither the one nor the other." Buddha extolled the wisdom of the damsel, and forthwith began his instruction. At the conclusion, she was firmly grounded in the state of Thautapan. She withdrew immediately, took up her quill, and went to the shed. It happened that her father was asleep, with his hand on the loom's handle. She approached the loom, and began to arrange the thread.
Her father, awaking suddenly, pushed inadvertently the part of the loom his hand was laid upon, and struck his daughter in the chest. She fell down and instantly expired. Overwhelmed with grief, the unfortunate father poured a flood of tears over the lifeless corpse of his daughter.
Unable to console himself, he rose up and went to Buddha, in the hope of receiving some comfort at his feet. Buddha affectionately received him, and, by his good instructions, relieved him from the load that pressed on his heart, and gradually enlightening his mind by the preaching of the four great truths, he gently infused into his heart and his soul that sweet joy which wisdom alone can impart. The weaver resolved to abandon the world, asked for admittance into the a.s.sembly, and not long after became a Rahanda. This conversion was followed by that of a great many others.
Buddha returned to Radzagio, and spent the nineteenth season in the Weloowon monastery. The season being over, Buddha went into the districts of Magatha, preaching in all places. Previous to that time, there lived at Radzagio a rich man who had an only daughter, who was brought up with the greatest care and the utmost fondness. She lived in the upper apartments of a splendid dwelling. On a certain day, at an early hour in the morning, she was looking on the people that flocked from the country into the town. She saw among many a young hunter driving a cart loaded with venison. She much admired his fine, energetic appearance. She was instantly enamoured of him, and made all the necessary arrangements to elope with him. She succeeded, married the hunter, and had by him a large family. Pa.s.sing on one day through a forest, the most excellent Buddha chanced to meet with a deer which was caught in the net of a hunter. Moved with feelings of commiseration, he helped the poor beast to get out of the meshes. After this benevolent action, he went to rest under a tree. The hunter soon made his appearance, and to his great dismay at once discovered that some one had deprived him of his prey. Whilst he was looking about, he saw Buddha, in his yellow dress, calmly resting under the shade of a large tree.
"This," said the hunter to himself, "is the man who has done the mischief; I will make him pay dear for his undue interference." Hereupon he hastily took up an arrow and placed it on the bow, with the intention of shooting dead the evildoer. But despite his exertions, heightened by the thirst for revenge, he could not succeed; both his hands were seized with a sudden quivering, and his feet appeared as if nailed to the ground. He stood motionless in that att.i.tude. Absorbed in meditation, Buddha was not aware what was going on so close to him.
The sons of the hunter as well as their wives grew very much troubled that their father did not return at the usual hour from visiting his nets. They feared that some untoward accident had overtaken him. They armed themselves and went in search of him. They soon came to the spot where they saw the sad position of their father. At the same moment, perceiving a yellow-dressed individual, they hastily concluded, that, by the power of some charms, he had brought their father into this miserable condition. They made up their mind to kill him. But whilst they were preparing to put their cruel design into execution, their hands, suddenly benumbed, could not grasp the weapons, and they all stood motionless and speechless. Awaking at last from contemplation, Buddha saw the hunter and all his family standing before him. Taking compa.s.sion on them, he restored them to their ordinary condition, and preached to them. They all fell at his knees, craved his pardon, believed in him, and became fervent Upasakas.
Buddha returned to Thawattie to spend the twentieth season in the Dzetawon monastery. It was at that period that there happened a remarkable change in the management of the domestic affairs of Gaudama.
Up to the present time, no one among the religious had been specially appointed to attend on Buddha and administer to his wants. But some of them, as circ.u.mstances occurred, undertook the agreeable and honourable duty of serving him. However human nature will occasionally let appear, even in the best of men, some marks of its innate imperfections. On two occasions, the Rahans who followed Buddha and carried his mendicant's pot and a portion of his dress wished to go in one direction, whilst Buddha desired them to follow in another. They had the imprudence to part company with him. Both paid dearly for their disobedience. They fell into the hands of robbers, who took away all that they had, and beat them severely on the head. This twofold act of insubordination painfully affected Buddha. He summoned all the religious into his presence, and declared that, being old, he wished to appoint one of them to the permanent office of personal attendant on himself. Thariputra and Maukalan immediately tendered their services with a pious and loving earnestness. But Buddha declined to accept their offer, as well as that of the eighty princ.i.p.al disciples. The reason was, that their services were required for preaching to the people, and labouring with him for the dissemination of the true science among men. Some of the disciples urged Ananda to volunteer his services; but out of modesty he remained silent. Then he added that, should Buddha be willing to accept his humble services, he knew his heart's dispositions and his willingness to attend on him on all occasions; he had but to signify his good pleasure.
As to him, he would be too happy to accept the office. Buddha expressed his readiness to confer on him the honourable employment. He was formally appointed and nominated Phra's attendant, and, during the twenty-five remaining seasons, he acted as the beloved and devoted attendant on Buddha's person. Through him alone visitors were ushered into Buddha's presence, and orders were communicated to the members of the a.s.sembly. Gaudama was then fifty-five years old.
On a certain day he went to the village of Dzantoo for the purpose of collecting alms. Manh Nat, his inveterate foe, entered into the heart of all the villagers to prevent them from giving alms to the mendicant. He succeeded so well in his wicked design that no one noticed Gaudama's pa.s.sage through the street, nor gave him alms. When he drew near to the gate, Manh stood by the side of the street, and asked him, with a sarcastic tone, how he felt under the pangs of hunger. Buddha replied to him, that he could, by entering into the state of perfect trance, remain, like the great Brahma, without using material food, feeding only, as it were, on the inward happiness created by the immediate sight of unclouded truth. Five hundred young virgins, who happened to return from the country into the place, prostrated themselves before Buddha, listened to his instructions, and reached the state of Thautapan.
On leaving the place, Buddha happened to travel through a forest, which had become an object of terror to all the people of Kothala, as being the favourite haunt of Ougalimala, a notorious robber and murderer. The ruler of the country, Pasenadi, had heard from the windows of his palace the cries of his alarmed subjects. Despite the many remonstrances that were made concerning the dangers of such an attempt, Buddha went straight forward to the den of the formidable man, who, enraged at such presumptuous boldness, was preparing to make him pay dear for his intrusion. But he had to deal with an opponent that could not easily be frightened. To his threats and attempts to inflict harm Gaudama opposed the meekest composure, the mildest expressions, and an invincible patience. Softened by the kindness of his opponent, Ougalimala altered the tone of his voice, and showed signs of respect to Buddha. The latter, quickly perceiving the change that had taken place in the robber's soul, preached to him the law, and made of him a sincere convert. Coming out from the forest which had been the scene of so many crimes, he followed Buddha, with the behaviour of an humble disciple.
The people of Kosala could scarcely give credit to the change that had taken place in Ougalimala. In a short time he became a Rahanda, and died not long after he had become perfect. The members of the a.s.sembly were, on a certain day, talking among themselves about the place he had probably migrated to. Buddha, who had overheard their conversation on this subject, said to them: "Beloved Bickus, the Rahan Ougalimala, who died a little while after his conversion, has reached the deliverance.
His conversion was at once prompt and perfect. He was very wicked previous to his conversion, because he never cohabited except with wicked and perverse a.s.sociates, the company of whom led him into all sorts of disorders. But he no sooner had the good fortune to meet me, hear my instructions, and converse with you, than he at once believed in my doctrine, adhered to me with all his might, and entered into the way leading to perfection. He laboured strenuously to destroy in himself the law of demerits, and thus rapidly reached the summit of perfection."
CHAPTER XII.
_Buddha is slandered in Thawattie -- Questions put to him by a pounha -- Story of Anatapein's daughter -- Conversion of a pounha whose navel emitted rays of light -- Blank in a great part of Buddha's life -- Story of Dewadat -- His jealousy towards Buddha -- His friendship with Prince Adzatathat -- His ambition -- His attempt to kill Buddha -- His miserable end._
While the most excellent Buddha was in the Dzetawon monastery, the heretics of Thawattie made another attempt to lower, nay, to destroy his reputation. They prevailed upon Thondarie, a woman entirely devoted to their interests, to spread the rumour that she had spent a night in the apartments of Buddha. When the calumny had been noised abroad, they suborned a gang of drunkards, to whom they promised a large sum of money, if they would do away with the instrument of the slander. They accordingly selected a favourable opportunity, killed Thondarie, and threw her body into a cl.u.s.ter of bushes close to the monastery. When the crime had been perpetrated, the heretics raised a cry all over the country inquiring about Thondarie. She could nowhere be found. Search was made in every direction, until at last, by the secret directions of their emissaries, the body was found on the spot where it had been apparently concealed. The party hostile to Buddha laid the crime at his door. The king of the country, urged on by them, ordered a strict inquiry to be made. The infamous trick was at last discovered in the following manner. The perpetrators of the deed happened to go into a drinking-place. Heated by the liquor they had taken, they began to accuse each other of having killed Thondarie. Their conversation was overheard by one of the king's servants, who had them arrested and led to the palace. The king said to them, "Wicked men, is it true that you have killed the woman Thondarie?" They answered, "It is true we have killed her." "Who advised you to commit the murder?" "The Deitty teachers, who have paid us one thousand pieces of silver." Indignant at such a horrible deed, the king ordered the murderers and their advisers to be put to death. Their punishment consisted in their being buried in the earth up to their waist. They were subsequently covered with a heap of straw, which being set fire to, they were burnt to death. Buddha told his disciples that what had happened on this melancholy occasion was but a just retribution for his having in a former existence been drunk, and in that state abused and slandered a holy personage.
In one of his preaching excursions, Gaudama converted a distinguished pounha, who asked him, "Ill.u.s.trious Buddha, what has the great Brahma done to merit the extraordinary glory that encompa.s.ses his person and the unsurpa.s.sed felicity that he enjoys?" To whom he answered, "The great Brahma, during several existences, has bestowed abundant alms on the needy, delivered many people from great perils, and delighted in giving instruction to the ignorant. Such meritorious deeds have procured for him the transcendent rank that he occupies, and secured to him for an immense period of time the matchless happiness that he possesses."
Two rich men, one of Thawattie, and the other a denizen of the Ougga city, had in their youth, when engaged in their studies, promised each other that he who should have a daughter would give her in marriage to the son of the other. When they had grown up, the rich man of Thawattie became a disciple of Buddha, but his friend followed the teachings of the heretics. In due time Anatapein, for such was the name of the former, had a beautiful daughter. His friend Ougga had also a fine grown-up son. It came to pa.s.s that Ougga on a certain day arrived from his place with five hundred carts of goods to Thawattie, for the purpose of trading. He lodged, as a matter of course, in his friend's house. During the conversation Ougga reminded his host of their former promise, and declared that he would be too happy to have it fulfilled without delay. Anatapein, having consulted his wife and daughter, and secured their consent, agreed to the proposal that was made to him. The pious rich man, however, was somewhat concerned respecting the dangers of his daughter's position in the midst of upholders of false doctrines.
He gave her a retinue of female attendants, who could, by their advice and conversation, maintain intact in her the faith in Buddha. When the bride arrived, after a long journey, to Ougga's city, she was desired by her father-in-law to go in the company of his wife to pay her respects to his teachers, who were sitting quite naked, with dishevelled hairs, in the midst of the most disgusting uncleanness, under a shed prepared for them. Unused to such an unsightly and revolting display, the modest girl recoiled back with a becoming horror, refusing even to cast a look at them. Enraged at the contempt shown to his teachers, the unnatural father-in-law threatened to send her away from his house, as being an unsuitable match for his son. Firm in her faith, she withstood all the efforts that were made to induce her to alter her resolution and pay attention to such individuals. She went back into her apartments. Having somewhat recovered her spirits, and regained her usual calm and serene composure, the pious young lady began, in the presence of her mother-in-law and other ladies of the town, to praise and extol the glory, modesty, meekness, and all the other qualifications which adorned her great teacher and his disciples. The hearers were delighted at all that they heard, and expressed an eager desire to see them and hear their instructions.
On that very day the compa.s.sionate Buddha was at an early hour, as usual, reviewing the beings dwelling on the island of Dzampoudipa, endeavouring to discover those that were well disposed to hear the truth. His searching glance soon discovered what was going on in the house of the rich man Ougga, and the good dispositions of many of its inmates. "Thither," said he, "I shall hasten to preach the law, for many shall be converted." Hereupon he summoned five hundred disciples to attend him. They all took their pattas and other articles. With his company he flew through the air, and soon alighted in the courtyard of the rich man's house. All were rejoiced to see Buddha and his disciples.
They lent a most attentive ear to his instructions. The rich man, his household, and a great number of the people of the town were converted.
Anouroudha was left at Ougga to complete, perfect, and extend the good work so happily begun. Buddha in all haste returned to Thawattie.
At that time a great noise was made throughout the country on account of a certain pounha whose navel emitted a sort of light in the shape of a moon. He belonged to the party of unbelievers. He was led by them into every village and town, as a living proof of the power they possessed.
At last his friends introduced him into the Dzetawon monastery. He was no sooner introduced into Buddha's presence, when the prodigy suddenly ceased. He went away somewhat annoyed at his misfortune; but he had scarcely crossed the threshold of the monastery when the light reappeared. Three times he came before the great preacher, and three times the light was completely eclipsed. No doubt could be entertained that there was in Buddha some secret power superior to the one he possessed. The pounha was at once disconcerted and bewildered. In his ignorance he attributed the accident to some superior magical formula possessed by Buddha, and asked him to teach him the said formula. Buddha said to him, "O pounha! I possess no charm; I ignore all magical formulas. There is in me but one virtue; it is that which I have gathered at the foot of the Bodi tree during the forty-nine days that I have spent there in the deepest meditation. As to what attracts now the attention of the people in your person, you are indebted for it to the offering of a gold coronet, in the shape of a moon, you made to a Buddha during a former existence. The reward bestowed on you for such a good work is but a transient one. It can afford you no real, substantial, and lasting happiness. Hearken to my doctrine; it will confer on you a never-ending recompense." He went on explaining to him many points of the law. The pounha believed in Buddha; nay, he applied for the dignity of Rahan, and finally became a Rahanda.
_N.B_.--The history of Buddha offers an almost complete blank as to what regards his doings and preachings during a period of nearly twenty-three years,[1] beginning with the twenty-first season, when he was fifty-six years old, and ending with the forty-fourth season, having reached the patriarchal age of seventy-nine years. So entirely are we kept in ignorance of the important transactions that took place during so long a portion of Buddha's life, that the writer, after having vainly consulted several ma.n.u.scripts, is reluctantly obliged to come to the same conclusion as that which the Burmese authors have arrived at, viz., that there is a complete disagreement as to even the names of the places where Buddha spent the twenty-three remaining seasons. Out of regard for the rich man Anatapein, who for so many years had been one of his most liberal supporters, Buddha spent the greatest part of the remaining seasons in the Dzetawon monastery. During the few others he seems to have stayed at or near Radzagio, chiefly in the Weloowon monastery. The amount of seasons spent by our Phra from the time he obtained the Buddhaship till his death is forty-five.
I find related, as a fact worthy of notice, the donation by a rich widow of Wethalie, named Wisaka, of the celebrated Pouppayon monastery. It was situated not far from the Dzetawon, in an eastern direction from that famous place. It is mentioned that when Phra sallied from the Dzetawon monastery by the eastern gate, the people of the country knew that he was going to dwell for awhile in the Pouppayon monastery; when, on the other hand, he was observed to leave it by the northern gate, all the people understood that he was undertaking a journey through the country for the purpose of preaching. The epoch of this donation is not certain.
It appears from some particulars indirectly alluded to that it must have taken place when Buddha was sixty years old.
In following our ma.n.u.script, we find inserted in this place the detailed accounts respecting Dewadat, related by Buddha himself in the Dzetawon monastery, in the presence of a large party of his disciples. The fact of Buddha mentioning the name of Adzatathat as king of Radzagio, leaves no doubt respecting the time when the awful punishment is supposed to have been meted out to Dewadat, on account of the many heinous sins laid to his charge. Adzatathat, having murdered his father Pimpathara, by starving him to death in a prison, became king of Radzagio, and succeeded him when Buddha was nearly seventy-two years old. He was already king, as the sequel will show, when Dewadat was as yet his spiritual adviser. It is probable that the following narrative was made not more than two years after the above date.
When the most excellent Buddha was in the Dzetawon monastery, alluding to the sad fate that had fallen Dewadat, he related the causes that had brought on this dreadful occurrence.
At a certain time, when Buddha was spending a season in the Kosamby country, the people came in great numbers every day to the monastery to bring abundant alms, and pay their respects to him and the a.s.sembly. On certain occasions they made inquiries about the most distinguished members of the a.s.sembly, such as Thariputra, Maukalan, Anouroudda, Ananda, Bagoo, Kimila, and others, giving utterance to the feelings of admiration and love they entertained towards them. But they never took the least notice of Dewadat. The latter keenly resented the studied slight; the more so, because he thought that in his capacity of member of the a.s.sembly and of his royal descent, he was ent.i.tled to as much consideration as many others, who in this twofold respect were greatly his inferiors. He resolved to leave the company of Buddha and go to some other place. He went to Radzagio and ingratiated himself in the favours of the young Prince Adzatathat, son of King Pimpathara, The young prince, taken up with the grave manners of the new-comer, acknowledged him as his teacher, and built for him a monastery on the Yauthitha hill, close to the city.
Some years afterwards Buddha came to Radzagio to spend a season in the Weloowon monastery. Dewadat went to his monastery. Having paid his respects in the usual manner and occupied a becoming place, he three times requested the permission of having an a.s.sembly or thinga of his own, quite distinct from the other, which was under the immediate management of Buddha. On this point he three times received a direct refusal to his demand. From that day the jealousy he entertained towards Buddha waxed to a base envy, which soon generated in his soul a deadly hatred against him. He made up his mind to break with Buddha all ties of spiritual relationship, and to become the chief of a new religious body.
To succeed in his impious design he required the support of the secular arm. The king of Magatha was in favour of Buddha, but his son had warmly espoused the cause of Dewadat. In such a position, the evil-disposed Dewadat advised Prince Adzatathat to compa.s.s the destruction of his father, in order to become king. The ambitious son followed the detestable advice, and put an end to his father's life by starving him to death in a prison, in spite of his own mother's exertions to save her royal husband's life.
It was in the thirty-seventh season of Buddha's public mission that Adzatathat ascended the throne of Magatha. Under the new king's auspices, Dewadat carried everything before him with a high hand.
a.s.sured of the new king's support, he hired thirty bowmen and promised them an ample reward if they killed Buddha. The ruffians gladly agreed to the proposal. But when they were on the point of committing the crime, they felt themselves overawed by the presence of Buddha. Instead of executing the order they had received, they fell at his feet, craved his pardon, listened to his preaching, and were converted one after the other. Disappointed on this point, Dewadat designed another plan to rid himself of the great preacher. He watched the moment when Buddha was walking at the foot of a hill, named Weitsa-gout. From the summit he rolled a large stone that was to crush his enemy. Fortunately on its way down the hill's side it met with a small obstacle, on which it split into several parts. One splinter alone hurt the toe of one of Buddha's feet, and severely bruised it. On hearing of such a nefarious and cowardly attempt, the disciples hastened to the spot and conveyed their beloved master to his monastery. They offered to keep guard round his person, to prevent the repet.i.tion of other attempts on his life. But Buddha said to them that no mortal had the power to hurt him so far as to cause his death. He thanked them for this new token of their affectionate regard towards him, and bade them return to their respective places. The celebrated physician Dzewaka, having been sent for, applied a bandage, which, being removed on the following morning, it was found, to the surprise and joy of all present, that the injured toe was perfectly cured. On another occasion Dewadat made a last attempt on Buddha's life, in the suburbs of Radzagio, by the means of an elephant, infuriated and maddened by strong liquor forced into his throat. The animal was let loose in one of the streets which Gaudama was perambulating gathering alms in his mendicant's pot. But far from doing any injury to Buddha, the elephant, having come into his presence, stood for awhile, and then knelt before him in token of respect. In this manner Dewadat signally failed in this last wicked attempt.
Dewadat differed from his cousin on some points of discipline; and this difference occasioned the schism that he meditated to establish.[2] He had proposed to Buddha to make it obligatory on all Rahans to live in forests at the foot of certain trees; not to receive food from the people in their own places, but to use only as articles of food such things as they could procure by their exertions; to use robes made up of rags collected in the dust of public thoroughfares, and not such as might be offered by pious laymen; to abstain from fish and meat; and to dwell in unroofed places. Gaudama positively refused to accede to his demands. Meanwhile he meekly warned him against the sin of schism, telling him that the commission of such an offence would throw the perpetrator into the h.e.l.l Awidzi for a whole revolution of nature. Deaf to such a salutary warning, Dewadat precipitated himself into schism. He gained over to his party five hundred inexperienced Rahans of the Witzi country, and with them dwelt in the monastery of Gayathitha. He signally failed in his attempt to draw Ananda to his side. Thariputra, by the advice of Buddha, went to Dewadat's place. Profiting from the time he was asleep at a distance, he prevailed upon the five hundred Rahans to abandon schism and return to Buddha, the centre of unity, who was then in the Dzetawon monastery in Wethalie. Rising from his sleep, Dewadat fell into a paroxysm of rage at the trick played on him. He instantly resolved to start for the Dzetawon monastery, to have his revenge on Buddha for the injury done unto him. He was carried in a litter.
Messenger after messenger informed Buddha of the approach of his antagonist. But he calmly said to his disciples: "Beloved sons, do not trouble yourselves. Dewadat shall not see my face nor enter the precincts of this place." Information was, in haste, conveyed that Dewadat had actually reached the tank close to the monastery, and was resting a while under the shade of a tree. Gaudama calmly gave the same a.s.surance to his trembling disciples. But the moment of a terrible punishment was at hand. Dewadat, quitting his couch, stood up for a while, to refresh his wearied limbs. But he was seen by his astonished and bewildered companions gradually sinking into the earth, first up to his knees, then to his navel, and finally to his shoulders. At that moment he humbled himself, confessed his fault, acknowledged and proclaimed the glory of Buddha. He then disappeared, wrapt in flame, and fell to the bottom of the h.e.l.l Awidzi. His punishment consists in having his feet sunk ankle-deep in a burning ground; his head is covered with a red-hot pan, that caps his head down to the lobe of the ears; two huge red-hot iron bars transfixt him horizontally from right to left, two from back to front, and one impales him from top to bottom. He shall have to suffer in that frightful position during a revolution of nature.
But, for his tardy and sincere repentance, he shall be delivered, and, by his exertions in practising virtue, he shall become a Pitzegabuddha, under the name of Atisara.
Adzatathat ruled over the two countries of Enga and Magatha. His mother was Waydahi, the sister of King Pathenadi, who ruled over the two countries of Kaci and Kosala. Adzatathat, who was of a bellicose temper, quarrelled with his uncle on account of some districts in Kaci, which he seized by force of arms. Unable to resist the army of his nephew, Pathenadi offered to the invader the hand of his daughter Watzera-komma.
The offer was accepted, and a reconciliation followed. Three years afterwards, Pathenadi lost his throne, which was seized by Meittadoubba, a son he had had by a concubine. Pathenadi went to Radzagio to ask a.s.sistance against the usurper from his son-in-law. But he died on his way to that place.
It was under the rule of Meittadoubba, in the forty-fourth season, that occurred the total destruction of the Thagiwi princes of Kosala and Kapilawot by the ambitious Adzatathat.
Buddha spent the forty-fourth season in the Dzetawon monastery. When the season was over, he went to dwell in the Weitzagout monastery, near Radzagio. While he was in that place, there was spread a rumour that Adzatathat entertained hostile feelings towards Wethalie. Buddha then foretold that as long as the princes of Wethalie would be united and avoid internal strife and contention, they would be more than a match for their enemy; but should quarrel take place among them, they and their country would fall an easy prey to the invader. These words, which fell from Buddha's mouth, were not forgotten by a pounha who was one of Adzatathat's ministers. He planned, with his royal mother's consent and secret encouragement, the destruction of the rulers of Wethalie, and the conquest of that country, by contriving to sow the seed of dissension among the Letziwi princes. His plan met with complete success some years later, about three years after Gaudama's Neibban, as we shall have the opportunity of relating.
FOOTNOTES
[1] This short summary of Buddha's life, indicating but little more than the names of the places where he had spent twenty seasons, and leaving us in the dark as to all the particulars regarding the twenty-three other seasons, is another ill.u.s.tration of the a.s.sertion, made in some foregoing pa.s.sages, that the present compilation is very concise and imperfect, supplying us with but an outline of Buddha's proceedings during the course of his preachings. He reached the age of eighty.
According to the authority of this legend, Buddha lived forty-five years after he had obtained the Buddhaship. He was therefore thirty-five when he began his public life and entered the career of preaching the law. It is not in my power to say anything positive respecting the antiquity of this work, but the statement of the main facts is borne out by the united testimony of the Buddhistic works existing in various parts and in different languages of Eastern Asia. If it be true that our Buddha lived so long, we must believe that his time during the last twenty-five years was employed in the same benevolent undertaking, viz., to preach the sacred law and point out to beings the way that shall lead them to the deliverance. Many volumes are full of the disputes on religious subjects between Buddha and the heretics, that is to say, his opponents. We may conclude that those controversies took place during the latter part of Buddha's life, as it cannot be doubted that they increased in proportion to the progress the new doctrines made among the people. If, however, we are in great part kept in the dark respecting the doings of the great reformer during a long period of his public life, we are amply compensated by the account of many interesting circ.u.mstances that occurred chiefly during the last year of his earthly career.
[2] Dewadat, in insisting upon the adoption of regulations of a more rigid character, intended to imitate, to a certain extent, the conduct of the mendicants of the opposite party. He aimed at rivalling them in the practice of austere observances. It does not appear that he innovated in the dogmas that he had learned at the school of his great teacher. As his royal pupil, Adzatathat, had hitherto supported the party of the pounhas, it is not improbable that Dewadat wished to lessen the differences between the practices and observances of the two parties, to render them less perceptible, and by doing so, to prepare the way, by gradual approximation, for a complete fusion. He exhibited himself in the character of a rigid reformer, who was displeased with the too lenient tenor of the disciplinary regulations inst.i.tuted by Buddha. Be that as it may, it is certain that jealousy in the beginning inspired him with the idea of separating from the a.s.sembly. This first step led him farther than he at first contemplated. He wished to set up an a.s.sembly, or thinga of his own, and thereby to place himself on a footing of equality and rivalry with his cousin. Meeting with greater resistance than he expected, and being convinced that he could not succeed so long as Buddha should be alive, he did not shrink from making several attempts on his life. It is a fact worthy of notice that the disturbances which took place subsequently in the Buddhist society had their origin, in most instances, in points of discipline of a trivial importance, which were altered or rejected by a fraction of the a.s.sembly, whilst they were upheld with the utmost tenacity by the greater portion of the Rahans, as having been established by Gaudama.
This observation will be fully corroborated by the particulars that we shall relate on the subject of the councils or meetings held after Gaudama's death.
END OF VOL. I.