Extract from gospel of Lord Buddha

 

 

Extract from gospel of Lord Buddha

 

There was a rich man who used to invite all the Brahmans of the neighborhood to his house, and, giving them rich gifts, offered great sacrifices to the gods.

And the Blessed One said: "If a man each month repeat a thousand sacrifices and give offerings without ceasing, he is not equal to him who but for one moment fixes his mind upon righteousness."

The world-honored Buddha continued: "There are four kinds of offering: first, when the gifts are large and the merit small; secondly, when the gifts are small and die merit small; thirdly, when, the gifts are small and the merit large; and fourthly, when the gifts are large and the merit is also large.

"The first is the case of the deluded man who takes away life for the purpose of sacrificing to the gods, accompanied by carousing and feasting. Here the gifts are great, but the merit is small indeed.

"The gifts are small and the merit is also small, when from covetousness and an evil heart a man keeps to himself a part of that which he intends to offer.

"The merit is great, however, while the gift is small, when a man makes his offering from love and with a desire to grow in wisdom and in kindness.

"Lastly, the gift is large and the merit is large, when a wealthy man, in an unselfish spirit and with the wisdom of a Buddha, gives donations and founds institutions for the best of mankind to enlighten the minds of his fellow-men and to administer unto their needs."

LXIX.

THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD.

There was a certain Brahman in Kosambī, a wrangler and well versed in the Vedas. As he found no one whom he regarded his equal in debate he used to carry a lighted torch in his hand, and when asked for the reason of his strange conduct, he replied: "The world is so dark that I carry this torch to light it up, as far as I can."

A samana sitting in the market-place heard these words and said: "My friend, if thine eyes are blind to the sight of the omnipresent light of the day, do not call the world dark. Thy torch adds nothing to the glory of the sun and thy intention to illumine the minds of others is as futile as it is arrogant."

 

Whereupon the Brahman asked: "Where is the sun of which thou speakest?" And the samana replied: "The wisdom of the Tathāgata is the sun of the mind. His radiancy is glorious by day and night, and he whose faith is strong will not lack light on the path to Nirvāna where he will inherit bliss everlasting."

LXX.

LUXURIOUS LIVING.

While the Buddha was preaching his doctrine for the conversion of the world in the neighborhood of Sāvatthi, a man of great wealth who suffered from many ailmemts came to him with clasped hands and said: "World-honored Buddha, pardon me for my want of respect in not saluting thee as I ought, but I suffer greatly from obesity, excessive drowsiness, and other complaints, so that I cannot move without pain."

The Tathāgata, seeing the luxuries with which the man was surrounded asked him: "Hast thou a desire to know the cause of thy ailments?" And when the wealthy man expressed his willingness to learn, the Blessed One said: "There are five things which produce the condition of which thou complainest: opulent dinners, love of sleep, hankering after pleasure, thoughtlessness, and lack of occupation. Exercise self-control at thy meals, and take upon thyself some duties that will exercise thy abilities and make thee useful to thy fellow-men. In following this advice thou wilt prolong thy life."

The rich man remembered the words of the Buddha and after some time having recovered his lightness of body and youthful buoyancy returned to the World honored One and, coming afoot without horses and attendants, said to him:

"Master, thou hast cured my bodily ailments; I come now to seek enlightenment of my mind."

And the Blessed One said: "The wording nourishes his body, but the wise man nourishes his mind. He who indulges in the satisfaction of his appetites works his own destruction; but he who walks in the path will have both the salvation from evil and a prolongation of life."

LXXI.

THE COMMUNICATION OF BLISS.

Annabhāra, the slave of Sumana, having just cut the grass on the meadow, saw a samana with his bowl begging for food. Throwing down his bundle of grass he ran into the house and returned with the rice that had been provided for his own food.

The samana ate the rice and gladdened him with words of religious comfort.

The daughter of Sumana having observed the scene from a window called out: "Good! Annabhāra, good! Very good!"

Sumana hearing these words inquired what she meant, and on being informed about Annabhāra's devotion and the words of comfort he had received from the samana, went to his slave and offered him money to divide the bliss of his offering.

"My lord," said Annabhāra, "let me first ask the venerable man." And approaching the samana, he said: "My master has asked me to share with him the bliss of the offering I made thee of my allowance of rice. Is it right that I should divide it with him?"

The samana replied in a parable. He said: "In a village of one hundred houses a single light was burning. Then

a neighbor came with his lamp and lit it; and in this same way the light was communicated from house to house and the brightness in the village was increased. Thus the light of religion may be diffused without stinting him who communicates it. Let the bliss of thy offering also be diffused. Divide it."

Annabhāra returned to his master's house and said to him: "I present thee, my lord, with a share of the bliss of my offering. Deign to accept it."

Sumana accepted it and offered his slave a sum of money, but Annabhāra replied: "Not so, my lord; if I accept thy money it would appear as if I sold thee my share. Bliss cannot be sold; I beg thou wilt accept it as a gift."

The master replied: "Brother Annabhāra, from this day forth thou shah be free. Live with me as my friend and accept this present as a token of my respect."

LXXII.

THE LISTLESS FOOL.

There was a rich Brahman, well advanced in years, who, unmindful of the impermanence of earthly things and anticipating a Jong life, had built himself a large house.

The Buddha wondered why a man so near to death had built a mansion with so many apartments, and he sent Ananda to the rich Brahman to preach to him the four noble truths and the eightfold path of salvation.

The Brahman showed Ananda his house and explained to him the purpose of its numerous chambers, but to the instruction of the Buddha's teachings he gave no heed.

Ānanda said: "It is the habit of fools to say, 'I have children and wealth.' He who says so is not even master of himself; how can he claim possession of children, riches, and servants? Many are the anxieties of the worldly, but they know nothing of the changes of the future."

Scarcely had Ānanda left, when the old man was stricken with apoplexy and fell dead. The Buddha said, for the instruction of those who were ready to learn: "A fool, though he lives in the company of the wise, understands nothing of the true doctrine, as a spoon tastes not the flavor of the soup. He thinks of himself only, and unmindful of the advice of good counselors is unable to deliver himself."

LXXIII.

RESCUE IN THE DESERT.

There was a disciple of the Blessed One, full of energy and zeal for the truth, who, Jiving under a vow to complete a meditation in solitude, flagged in a moment of weakness. He said to himself: "The Teacher said there are several lands of men; I must belong to the lowest class and fear that in this birth there will be neither path nor fruit for me. What is the use of a forest life if I cannot by my constant endeavor attain the insight of meditation to which I have devoted myself?" And he left the solitude and returned to the Jetavana.

When the brethren saw him they said to him: "Thou hast done wrong, O brother, after taking a vow, to give up the attempt of carrying it out;" and they took him to the Master.

When the Blessed One saw them he said: "I see, O mendicants that you have brought this brother here against his will. What has he done?"

"Lord, this brother, having taken the vows of so sanctifying a faith, has abandoned the endeavor to accomplish the aim of a member of the order, and has come back to us."

Then the Teacher said to him: "Is it true that thou hast given up trying?"

"It is true, O Blessed One!" was the reply.

The Master said: "This present life of thine is a time of grace. If thou fail now to reach the happy state thou wilt have to suffer remorse in future existences. How is it, brother that thou hast proved so irresolute? Why, in former states of existence thou wert full of determination. By thy energy alone the men and bullocks of five hundred wagons obtained water in the sandy desert, and were saved. How is it that thou now givest up?"

By these few words that brother was re-established in his resolution. But the others besought the Blessed One, saying: "Lord! Tell us how this was."

"Listen, then, O mendicants!" said the Blessed One; and having thus excited their attention, he made manifest a thing concealed by change of birth.

Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was reigning in Kasi, the Bodhisatta was born in a merchant's family and when he grew up, he went about trafficking with five hundred carts.

One day he arrived at a sandy desert many leagues across. The sand in that desert was so fine that when taken in the closed fist it could not be kept in the hand. After the sun had risen it became as hot as a mass of burning embers, so that no man could walk on it. Those, therefore, who had to travel over it took wood, and water, and oil, and rice in their carts, and traveled during the night. And at daybreak they formed an encampment and spread an awning over it, and, taking their meals early, they passed the day lying in the shade. At sunset they supped, and when the ground had become cool they yoked their oxen and went on. The traveling was like a voyage over the sea: a desert-pilot had to be chosen, and he brought the caravan safe to the other side by his knowledge of the stars.

Thus the merchant of our story traversed the desert. And when he had passed over fifty-nine leagues he thought, "Now, in one more night we shall get out of the sand," and after supper he directed the wagons to be yoked, and so set out. The pilot had cushions arranged on the foremost cart and lay down, looking at the stars and directing the men where to drive. But worn out by want of rest during the long march, he fell asleep, and did not perceive that the oxen had turned round and taken the same road by which they had come.

The oxen went on the whole night through. Towards dawn the pilot woke up, and, observing the stars, called out: "Stop the wagons, stop the wagons!" The day broke just as they stopped and were drawing up the carts in a line. Then the men cried out: "Why this is the very encampment we left yesterday! We have but little wood left and our water is all gone! We are lost!" And unyoking the oxen and spreading the canopy over their heads, they lay down in despondency, each one under his wagon. But the Bodhisatta said to himself, "If I lose heart, all these will perish," and walked about while the morning was yet cool. On seeing a tuft of kusa-grass, he thought: "This could have grown only by soaking up some water which must be beneath it."

And he made them bring a spade and dig in that spot. And they dug sixty cubits deep. And when they had got thus far, the spade of the diggers struck on a rock; and as soon as it struck, they all gave up in despair. But the Bodhisatta thought, "There must be water under that rock," and descending into the well he got upon the stone, and stooping down applied his ear to it and tested the sound of it. He heard the sound of water gurgling beneath,

and when he got out he called his page. "My lad, if thou givest up now, we shall all be lost. Do not lose heart. Take this iron hammer, and go down into the pit, and give the rock a good blow."

The lad obeyed, and though they all stood by in despair, he went down full of determination and struck at the stone. The rock split in two and fell below, so that it no longer blocked the stream, and water rose till its depth from the bottom to the brim of the well was equal to the Height of a palm-tree. And they all drank of the water, and bathed in it. Then they cooked rice and ate it, and fed their oxen with it. And when the sun set, they put a flag in the well, and went to the place appointed. There they sold their merchandise at a good profit and returned to their home, and when they died they passed away according to their deeds. And the Bodhisatta gave gifts and did other virtuous acts, and he also passed away according to his deeds.

After the Teacher had told the story he formed the connection by saying in conclusion, "The caravanleader was the Bodhisatta, the future Buddha; the page who at that time despaired not, but broke the stone, and gave water to the multitude, was this brother without perseverance and the other men were attendants on the Buddha."

LXXIV.

THE SOWER.

Bhāradvāja, a wealthy Brahman farmer, was celebrating his harvest-thanksgiving when, the Blessed One came with his alms-bowl, begging for food.

Some of the people paid him reverence, but the Brahman was angry and said: "O samana, it would be more fitting for thee to go to work than to beg. I plough and sow, and having ploughed and sown, I eat. If thou didst likewise, thou, too, wouldst have something to eat."

The Tathāgata answered him. and said: "O Brahman, I, too, plough and sow, and having ploughed and sown, I eat."

"Dost thou profess to be a husbandman?" replied the Brahman. "Where, then, are thy bullocks? Where is the seed and the plough?"

The Blessed One said: "Faith is the seed I sow: good works are the rain that fertilizes it; wisdom and modesty are the plough; my mind is the guiding-rein; I lay hold of the handle of the law earnestness is the goad I use, and exertion is my draught-ox. This ploughing is ploughed to destroy the weeds of illusion. The harvest it yields is the immortal fruit of Nirvana, and thus all sorrow ends."

Then the Brahman poured rice-milk into a golden bowl and offered it to the Blessed One, saying: "Let the Teacher of mankind partake of the rice-milk, for the venerable Gotama ploughs a ploughing that bears the fruit of immortality."

LXXV.

THE OUTCAST.

When Bhagavat dwelt at Sāvatthi in the Jetavana, he went out with his alms-bowl to beg for food and approached the house of a Brahman priest while the fire of an offering was blazing upon the altar. And the priest said: "Stay there, O shaveling; stay there, O wretched samana; thou art an outcast."

The Blessed One replied: "Who is an outcast?

"An outcast is the man who Is angry and bears hatred; the man who is wicked and hypocritical, he who embraces error and is foil of deceit.

"Whosoever is a provoker and is avaricious, has evil desires, is envious, wicked, shameless, and without fear to commit wrong, let him be known as an outcast.

"Not by birth does one become an outcast, not by birth does one become a Brahman; by deeds one becomes an outcast, by deeds one becomes a Brahman."

LXXVI.

THE WOMAN AT THE WELL.

Ānanda, the favorite disciple of the Buddha, having been sent by the Lord on a mission, passed by a well near a village, and seeing Pakari, a girl of the Mātanga caste, he asked her for water to drink.

Pakati said: "O Brahman, I am too humble and mean to give thee water to drink, do not ask any service of me lest thy holiness be contaminated, for I am of low caste."

And Ānanda replied: "I ask not for caste but for water and the Mātanga girl's heart leaped joyfully and she gave Ananda to drink.

Ananda thanked her and went away; but she followed him at a distance.

Having heard that Ānanda was a disciple of Gotama Sakyamuni, the girl repaired to the Blessed One and cried: "O Lord help me, and let me live in the place where Ānanda thy disciple dwells, so that I may see him and minister unto him, for I love Ananda.'

And the Blessed One understood the emotions of her heart and he said: "Pakati, thy heart is full of love, but thou understandest not thine own sentiments. It is not Ananda that thou lovest, but his kindness. Accept, then, the kindness thou hast seen him practice unto thee, and in the humility of thy station practice it unto others.

"Verily there is great merit in the generosity of a king when he is land to a slave; but there is a greater merit in the slave when he ignores the wrongs which he suffers and cherishes kindness and good-will to all mankind. He will cease to hate his oppressors, and even when powerless to resist their usurpation will with compassion pity their arrogance and supercilious demeanor.

"Blessed art thou, Pakati, for though thou art a Mātanga thou wilt be a model for noblemen and noblewomen. Thou art of low caste, but Brahmans may learn a lesson from thee. Swerve not from the path of justice and righteousness and thou wilt outshine the royal glory of queens on the throne."

LXXVII.

THE PEACEMAKER.

It is reported that two kingdoms were on the verge of war for the possession of a certain embankment which was disputed by them.

And the Buddha seeing the kings and their armies ready to fight, requested them to tell him the cause of their quarrels. Having heard the complaints on both sides, he said:

"I understand that the embankment has value for some of your people; has it any intrinsic value aside from its service to your men?

"It has no intrinsic value whatever," was the reply. The Tathāgata continued: "Now when you go to battle is it not sure that many of your men will be slain and that you yourselves, O kings, are liable to lose your lives?"

And they said: "Verily, it is sure that many will be slain and our own lives be jeopardized."

"The blood of men, however," said Buddha, "has it less intrinsic value than a mound of earth?"

"No," the Idngs said, "the lives of men and above all the lives of kings, are priceless."

Then the Tathagata concluded: "Are you going to stake that which is priceless against that which has no intrinsic value whatever?"

The wrath of the two monarchs abated, and they came to a peaceable agreement.

LXXVIII.

THE HUNGRY DOG.

There was a great king who oppressed his people and was hated by his subjects  yet when the Tathāgata came into his kingdom, the king desired much to see him. So he went to the place where the Blessed One stayed and asked: "O Sakyamuni, canst thou teach a lesson to the king that will divert his mind and benefit him at the same time?"

And the Blessed One said: *I shall tell thee the parable of the hungry dog:

"There was a wicked tyrant; and the god Indra, assuming the shape of a hunter, came down upon earth with the demon Mātali, the latter appearing as a dog of enormous size. Hunter and dog entered the palace, and the dog howled so woefully that the royal buildings shook by the sound to their very foundations. The tyrant had the awe-inspiring hunter brought before his throne and inquired after the cause of the terrible bark. The hunter said, "The dog is hungry," whereupon the frightened king ordered food for him. All the food prepared at the royal banquet disappeared rapidly in the dog's jaws, and still he howled with portentous significance. More food was sent for, and all the royal store-houses were emptied, but in vain. Then the tyrant grew desperate and asked: 'Will nothing satisfy the cravings of that woeful beast?' 'Nothing,' replied the hunter, 'nothing except perhaps the flesh of all his enemies.' And who are his enemies?' anxiously asked the tyrant. The hunter replied: 'The dog will howl as long as there are people hungry in the kingdom, and his enemies are those who practice injustice and oppress the poor.' The oppressor of the people, remembering his evil deeds, was seized with remorse, and for the first time in his life he began to listen to the teachings of righteousness."

Having ended his story, the Blessed One addressed the king, who had turned pale, and said to him:

"The Tathāgata can quicken the spiritual ears of the powerful, and when thou, great king, nearest the dog bark, think of the teachings of the Buddha, and thou mayst still learn to pacify the monster."

LXXIX.

THE DESPOT.

King Brahmadatta happened to see a beautiful woman, the wife of a Brahman merchant, and, conceiving a passion for her ordered a precious jewel secretly to be dropped into the merchant's carriage. The jewel was missed, searched for, and found. The merchant was arrested on the charge of stealing, and the king pretended to listen with great attention to the defence, and with seeming regret ordered

the merchant to be executed, while his wife was consigned to the royal harem.

Brahmadatta attended the execution in person, for such sights were wont to give him pleasure, but when the doomed man looked with deep compassion at his infamous udge, a flash of the Buddha's wisdom lit up the king's passion-beclouded mind; and while the executioner raised the sword for the fatal stroke, Brahmadatta felt the effect in his own mind, and he imagined he saw himself on the block. "Hold, executioner!" shouted Brahmadatta, "it is the king whom thou slayest!" But it was too late! The executioner had done the bloody deed.

The king fell back in a swoon, and when he awoke a change had come over him. He had ceased to be the cruel despot and henceforth led a life of holiness and rectitude. The people said that the character of the Brahman had been impressed into his mind.

O ye who commit murders and robberies! The veil of self-delusion covers your eyes. If ye could see things as they are, not as they appear, ye would no longer inflict injuries and pain on your own selves. Ye see not that ye will have to atone for your evil deeds, for what ye sow that will ye reap.

LXXX.

VĀSAVADATTĀ.

There was a courtesan in Mathurā named Vāsavadattā. She happened to see Upagutta, one of Buddha's disciples, a tall and beautiful youth, and fell desperately in love with him. Vāsavadattā sent an invitation to the young man, but he replied: "The time has not yet arrived when Upagutta will visit Vāsavadattā."

The courtesan was astonished at the reply, and she sent again for him, saying: "Vāsavadattā desires love, not gold, from Upagutta." But Upagutta made the same enigmatic reply and did not come.

A few months later Vāsavadattā had a love-intrigue with the chief of the artisans, and at that time a wealthy merchant came to Mathurā, who fell in love with Vāsavadattā. Seeing his wealth, and fearing the jealousy of her other lover, she contrived the death of the chief of the artisans, and concealed his body under a dunghill.

When the chief of the artisans had disappeared, his relatives and friends searched for him and found his body. Vāsavadattā, however, was tried by a judge, and condemned to have her ears and nose, her hands and feet cut off, and flung into a graveyard.

Vāsavadattā had been a passionate girl, but kind to her servants, and one of her maids followed her, and out of love for her former mistress ministered unto her in her agonies, and chased away the crows.

Now the time had arrived when Upagutta decided to visit Vāsavadattā.

When he came, the poor woman ordered her maid to collect and hide under a cloth her severed limbs; and he greeted her kindly, but she said with petulance: "Once this body was fragrant like the lotus, and I offered thee my love. In those days I was covered with pearls and fine muslin. Now I am mangled by the executioner and covered with filth and blood."

"Sister," said the young man, "it is not for my pleasure that I approach thee. It is to restore to thee a nobler beauty than the charms which thou hast lost.

"I have seen with mine eyes the Tathāgata walking upon earth and teaching men his wonderful doctrine. But thou wouldst not have listened to the words of righteousness while surrounded with temptations, while under the spell of passion and yearning for worldly pleasures. Thou wouldst not have listened to the teachings of the Tathāgata, for thy heart was wayward, and thou didst set thy trust on the sham of thy transient charms.

"The charms of a lovely form are treacherous, and quickly lead into temptations, which have proved too strong for thee. But there is a beauty which will not fade, and if thou wilt but listen to the doctrine of our Lord, the Buddha, thou wilt find that peace which thou wouldst have found in the restless world of sinful pleasures."10

Vasāvadattā became calm and a spiritual happiness soothed the tortures of her bodily pain; for where there is much suffering there is also great bliss.11

Having taken refuge in the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Sangha, she died in pious submission to the punishment of her crime.1

LXXXI.

THE MARRIAGE-FEAST IN JAMBŪNADA.

There was a man in Jambūnada who was to be married the next day, and he thought, "Would that the Buddha, the Blessed One, might be present at the wedding."

And the Blessed One passed by his house and met him and when he read the silent wish in the heart of the bridegroom, he consented to enter.

When the Holy One appeared with the retinue of his many bhikkhus, the host whose means were limited received them as best he could, saying: "Eat, my Lord, and all thy congregation, according to your desire."

While the holy men ate, the meats and drinks remained undiminished, and the host thought to himself: "How wondrous is this  I should have had plenty for all my relatives and friends. Would that I had invited them all."

When this thought was in the host's mind, all his relatives and friends entered the house; and although the hall in the house was small there was room in it for all of them. They sat down at the table and ate, and there was more than enough for all of them.

The Blessed One was pleased to see so many guests full of good cheer and he quickened them and gladdened them with words of truth, proclaiming the bliss of righteousness:

"The greatest happiness which a mortal man can imagine is the bond of marriage that ties together two loving hearts. But there is a greater happiness still: it is the embrace of truth. Death will separate husband and wife, but death will never affect him who has espoused the truth.

"Therefore be married unto the truth and live with the truth in holy wedlock. The husband who loves his wife and desires for a union that shall be everlasting must be faithful to her so as to be like truth itself, and she will rely upon him and revere him and minister unto him. And the wife who loves her husband and desires a union that shall be everlasting must be faithful to him so as to be like truth itself; and he will place his trust in her, he will provide for her. Verily, I say unto you, their children will become like unto their parents and will bear witness to their happiness.

"Let no man be single, let everyone be wedded in holy love to the truth. And when Mara, the destroyer, comes to separate the visible forms of your being, you will continue to live in the truth, and you will partake of the life everlasting, for the truth is immortal."

There was no one among the guests but was strengthened, in his spiritual life, and recognized the sweetness of a life of righteousness; and they took refuge in the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Sangha.

LXXXII.

A PARTY IN SEARCH OF A THIEF.

Having sent out his disciples, the Blessed One himself wandered from place to place until he reached Uravelā.

On his way he sat down in a grqve to rest, and it happened that in that same grove there was a party of thirty friends who were enjoying themselves with their wives; and while they were sporting, some of their goods were stolen.

Then the whole party went in search of the thief and, meeting the Blessed One sitting under a tree, saluted him and said: "Pray, Lord, didst thou see the thief pass by with our goods?"

And the Blessed One said: "Which is better for you, that you go in search for the thief or for yourselves?" And the youths cried: "In search for ourselves!"

"Well, then," said the Blessed One, "sit down and I will preach the truth to you."

And the whole party sat down and they listened eagerly to the words of the Blessed One. Having grasped the truth, they praised the doctrine and took refuge in the Buddha.

LXXXIIL

IN THE REALM OF YAMARĀJA.

There was a Brahman, a religious man and fond in his affections but without deep wisdom. He had a son of great promise, who, when seven years old, was struck with a fatal disease and died. The unfortunate father was unable to control himself; he threw himself upon the corpse and lay there as one dead.

The relatives came and buried the dead child and when the father came to himself, he was so immoderate in his grief that he behaved like an insane person. He no longer gave way to tears but wandered about asking for the residence of Yamaraja, the king of death, humbly to beg of him that his child might be allowed to return to life.

Having arrived at a great Brahman temple the sad father went through certain religious rites and fell asleep. While wandering on in his dream he came to a deep mountain pass where he met a number of samanas who had acquired supreme wisdom. "Kind sirs," he said, "can you not tell me where the residence of Yamarajā is?" And they asked him, "Good friend, why wouldst thou know?" Whereupon he told them his sad story and explained his intentions. Pitying his self-delusion, the samanas said: "No mortal man can reach the place where Yama reigns, but some four hundred miles westward lies a great city in which many good spirits live; every eighth day of the month Yama visits the place, and there mayst thou see him who is the King of Death and ask him for a boon."

The Brahman rejoicing at the news went to the city and found it as the samanas had told him. He was admitted to the dread presence of Yama, the King of Death, who, on hearing his request, said: "Thy son now lives in the eastern garden where he is disporting himself; go there and ask him to follow thee."

Said the happy father: "How does it happen that my son, without having performed one good work, is now living in paradise?" Yamarāja replied: "He has obtained celestial happiness not for performing good deeds, but because he died in faith and in love to the Lord and Master, the cfitost glorious Buddha. The Buddha says: 'The heart of love and faith spreads as it were a beneficent shade from the world of men to the world of gods.' This glorious utterance is like the stamp of a lung's seal upon a royal edict."

The happy father hastened to the place and saw his beloved child playing with other children, all transfigured by the peace of the blissful existence of a heavenly life. He ran up to his boy and cried with tears running down his cheeks: "My son, my son, dost thou not remember me, thy father who watched over thee with loving care and tended thee in thy sickness? Return home with me to the land of the living." But the boy, while struggling to go back to his playmates, upbraided him for using such strange expressions as father and son. "In my present state," he said, "I know no such words, for I am free from delusion."

On this, the Brahman departed, and when he woke from his dream he bethought himself of the Blessed Master of mankind, the great Buddha, and resolved to go to him, lay bare his grief, and seek consolation.

Having arrived at the Jetavana, the Brahman told his story and how his boy had refused to recognize him and to go home with him.

And the World-honored One said: "Truly thou art deluded. When man dies the body is dissolved into its elements, but the spirit is not entombed. It leads a higher mode of life in which all the relative terms of father, son, wife, mother, are at an end, just as a guest who leaves his lodging has done with it, as though it were a thing of the past. Men concern themselves most about that which passes away; but the end of life quickly comes as a burning torrent sweeping away the transient in a moment. They are like a blind man set to look after a burning lamp. A wise man, understanding the transiency of worldly relations, destroys the cause of grief, and escapes from the seething whirlpool of sorrow. Religious wisdom lifts a man above the pleasures and pains of the world and gives him peace everlasting."

The Brahman asked the permission of the Blessed One to enter the community of his bhikkhus, so as to acquire that heavenly wisdom which alone can give comfort to an afflicted heart.

LXXXIV.

THE MUSTARD SEED.

There was a rich man who found his gold suddenly transformed into ashes  and he took to his bed and refused all food. A friend, hearing of his sickness, visited the rich man and learned the cause of his grief. And the friend said: "Thou didst not make good use of thy wealth. When thou didst hoard it up it was not better than ashes. Now heed my advice. Spread mats in the bazaar; pile up these ashes, and pretend to trade with them."

The rich man did as his friend had told him, and when his neighbors asked him, "Why sellest thou ashes?" he said: "I offer my goods for sale."

After some time a young girl, named Kisā Gotami, an orphan and very poor, passed by, and seeing the rich man in the bazaar, said: "My lord, why pilest thou thus up gold and silver for sale."

And the rich man said: "Wilt thou please hand me that gold and silver?" And Kisa Gotami took up a handful of ashes, and lo! they changed back into gold.

Considering that Kisā Gotamī had the mental eye of, spiritual knowledge and saw the real worth of things, the rich man gave her in marriage to his son, and he said: "With many, gold is no better than ashes, but with Kisā Gotamī ashes become pure gold."

And Kisā Gotamī had an only son, and he died. In her grief she carried the dead child to all her neighbors, asking them for medicine, and the people said: "She has lost her senses. The boy is dead."

At length Kisā Gotamī met a man who replied to her request: "I cannot give thee medicine for thy child, but I know a physician who can."

And the girl said: "Pray tell me, sir; who is it?" And the man replied: "Go to Sakyamuni, the Buddha."

Kisā Gotamī repaired to the Buddha and cried: "Lord and Master, give me the medicine that will cure my boy."

The Buddha answered: "I want a handful of mustard-seed." And when the girl in her joy promised to procure it, the Buddha added: "The mustard-seed must be taken from a house where no one has lost a child, husband, parent, or friend."

Poor Kisā Gotamī now went from house to house, and the people pitied her and said: "Here is mustard-seed; take it!" But when she asked, "Did a son or daughter, a father or mother, die in your family.'" They answered her: "Alas! the living are few, but the dead are many. Do not remind us of our deepest grief." And there was no house but some beloved one had died in it.

Kisā Gotamī became weary and hopeless, and sat down at the wayside, watching the lights of the city, as they flickered up and were extinguished again. At last the darkness of the night reigned everywhere. And she considered the fate of men that their lives flicker up and are extinguished. And she thought to herself: "How selfish am I in my grief! Death is common to all; yet in this valley of desolation there is a path that leads him to immortality who has surrendered all selfishness."

Putting away the selfishness of her affection for her child, Kisā Gotamī had the dead body buried in the forest. Returning to the Buddha, she took refuge in him and found comfort in the Dharma, which is a balm that will soothe all the pains of our troubled hearts.

The Buddha said:

"The life of mortals in this world is troubled and brief and combined with pain. For there is not any means by which those that have been born can avoid dying; after reaching old age there is death; of such a nature are living beings.

"As ripe fruits are early in danger of falling, so mortals when born are always in danger of death.

"As all earthen vessels made by the potter end in being broken, so is the life of mortals.

"Both young and adult, both those who are fools and those who are wise, all fall into the power of death; all are subject to death.

"Of those who, overcome by death, depart from life, a father cannot save his son, nor kinsmen their relations.

"Mark! while relatives are looking on and lamenting deeply, one by one mortals are carried off, like an ox that is led to the slaughter.

"So the world is afflicted with death and decay, therefore the wise do not grieve, knowing the terms of the world.

"In whatever manner people think a thing will come to pass, it is often different when it happens, and great is the disappointment; see, such are the terms of the world.

"Not from weeping nor from grieving will anyone obtain peace of mind; on the contrary, his pain will be the greater and his body will suffer. He will make himself sick and pale, yet the dead are not saved by his lamentation.

 

"People pass away, and their fate after death will be according to their deeds.

"If a man live a hundred years, or even more, he will at last be separated from the company of his relatives, and leave the life of this world.

"He who seeks peace should draw out the arrow of lamentation, and complaint, and grief.

"He who has drawn out the arrow and has become composed will obtain peace of mind; he who has overcome all sorrow will become free from sorrow, and be blessed."

LXXXV.

FOLLOWING THE MASTER OVER THE STREAM.

South of Sāvatthi is a great river, on the banks of which lay a hamlet of five hundred houses. Thinking of the salvation of the people, the World-honored One resolved to go to the village and preach the doctrine. Having come to the riverside he sat down beneath a tree, and the villagers seeing the glory of his appearance approached him with reverence 5 but when he began to preach, they believed him not.

When the world-honored Buddha had left Sāvatthi Sāriputta felt a desire to see the Lord and to hear him preach. Coming to the river where the water was deep and the current strong, he said to himself: "This stream shall not prevent me. I shall go and see the Blessed One," and he stepped upon the water which was as firm under his feet as a slab of granite.

When he arrived at a pike in the middle of the stream where the waves were high, Sāriputta's heart gave way, and he began to sink, But rousing his faith and renewing his mental effort, he preceeded as before and reached the other bank.

The people of the village were astonished to see Sāriputta, and they asked how he could cross the stream where there was neither a bridge nor a ferry.

And Sāriputta replied: "I lived in ignorance until I heard the voice of the Buddha. As I was anxious to hear the doctrine of salvation, I crossed the river and I walked over its troubled waters because I had faith.. Faith, nothing else, enabled me to do so, and now I am here in the bliss of the Master's presence."

The World-honored One added: "Sāriputta, thou hast spoken well. Faith like thine alone can save the world from the yawning gulf of migration and enable men to walk dry shod to the other shore."

And the Blessed One urged to the villagers the necessity of ever advancing in the conquest of sorrow and of casting off all shackles so as to cross the river of worldliness and attain deliverance from death.

Hearing the words of the Tathāgata, the villagers were filled with joy and believing in the doctrines of the Blessed One embraced the five rules and took refuge in his name.

LXXXVI.

THE SICK BHIKKHU.

An old bhikkhu of a surly disposition was afflicted with a loathsome disease the sight and smell of which was so nauseating that no one would come near him or help him in his distress. And it happened that the World-honored One came to the vihāra in which the unfortunate man lay; hearing of the case he ordered warm water to be prepared and went to the sick-room to administer unto the sores of the patient with his own hand, saying to his disciples:

"The Tathāgata has come into the world to befriend the poor, to succor the unprotected, to nourish those in bodily affliction, both the followers of the Dharma and unbelievers, to give sight to the blind and enlighten the minds of the deluded, to stand up for the rights of orphans as well as the aged, and in so doing to set an example to others. This is the consummation of his work, and thus he attains the great goal of life as the rivers that lose themselves in the ocean."

The World-honored One administered unto the sick bhikkhu daily so long as he stayed in that place. And the governor of the city came to the Buddha to do him reverence, and having heard of the service which the Lord did in the vihāra asked the Blessed One about the previous existence of the sick monk, and the Buddha said:

"In days gone by there was a wicked king who used to extort from his subjects all he could get; and he ordered one of his officers to lay the lash on a man of eminence. The officer little thinking of the pain he inflicted upon others, obeyed; but when the victim of the king's wrath begged for mercy, he felt compassion and laid the whip lightly upon him. Now the king was reborn as Devadatta, who was abandoned by all his followers, because they were no longer willing to stand his severity and he died miserable and foil of penitence. The officer is the sick bhikkhu, who having often given offence to his brethren in the vihāra was left without assistance in his distress. The eminent man, however, who was unjustly beaten and begged for mercy was the Bodhisatta; he has been reborn as the Tathāgata. It is now the lot of the Tathāgata to help the wretched officer as he had mercy on him."

And the World-honored One repeated these lines: "He who inflicts pain on the gentle, or falsely accuses the innocent, will inherit one of the ten great calamities. But he who has learned to suffer with patience will be purified and will be the chosen instrument for the alleviation of suffering."

The diseased bhikkhu on hearing these words turned to the Buddha, confessed his ill-natured temper and repented and with a heart cleansed from error did reverence unto the Lord.

LXXXVII.

THE PATIENT ELEPHANT.

While the Blessed One was residing in the Jetavana, there was a householder living in Sāvatthi known to all his neighbors as patient and land, but his relatives were wicked and contrived a plot to rob him. One day they came to the householder and often worrying him with all kinds of threats took away a goodly portion of his property. He did not go to court, nor did he complain, but tolerated with great forbearance the wrongs he suffered.

The neighbors wondered and began to talk about it, and rumors of the affair reached the ears of the brethren in Jetavana. While the brethren discussed the. occurrence in the assembly hall, the Blessed One entered and asked "What was the topic of your conversation?" And they told him.

Said the Blessed One: "The time will come when the wicked relatives will find their punishment O brethren, this is not the first time that this occurrence took place; it has happened before", and he told them a world-old tale.

Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta was born in the Himalaya region as an elephant. He grew up strong and big, and ranged the hills and mountains, the peaks and caves of the tortuous woods in the valleys. Once as he went he saw a pleasant tree, and took his food, standing under it.

Then some impertinent monkeys came down out of the tree, and jumping on the elephant's back, insulted and tormented him greatly; they took hold of his tusks, pulled his tail and disported themselves, thereby causing him much annoyance. The Bodhisatta, being full of patience, kindliness and mercy, took no notice at all of their misconduct which the monkeys repeated again and again.

One day the spirit that lived in tie tree, standing upon the tree-trunk, addressed the elephant saying, "My lord elephant, why dost thou put up with the impudence of these bad monkeys?" And he asked the question in a couplet as follows:

"Why dost thou patiently endure each freak

These mischievous and selfish monkeys wreak?"

The Bodhisatta, on hearing this, replied, If, Tree-sprite, I cannot endure these monkeys' ill treatment without abusing their birth, lineage and persons, how can I walk in the eightfold noble path? But these monkeys will do the same to others thinking them to be like me. If they do it to any rogue elephant, he will punish them indeed, and I shall be delivered both from their annoyance and the guilt of having done harm to others."

Saying this he repeated another stanza:

"If they will treat another one like me,
He will destroy them and I shall be free."

 

A few days after, the Bodhisatta went elsewhither, and another elephant, a savage beast, came and stood in his place. The wicked monkeys thinking him to be like the old one, climbed upon his back and did as before. The rogue elephant seized the monkeys with his trunk, threw them upon the ground, gored them with his tusk and trampled them to mincemeat under his feet.

When the Master had ended this teaching, he declared the truths, and identified the births, saying: "At that time the mischievous monkeys were the wicked relatives of the good man, the rogue elephant was the one who will punish them, but the virtuous noble elephant was the Tathāgata himself in a former incarnation."

After this discourse one of the brethren rose and asked leave to propose a question and when permission was granted he said: "I have heard the doctrine that wrong should be met with wrong and the evil doer should be checked by being made to suffer, for if this were not done evil would increase and good would disappear. What shall we do?"13

Said the Blessed One: "Nay, I will tell you: Ye who have left the world and have adopted this glorious faith of putting aside selfishness, ye shall not do evil for evil nor return hate for hate. Nor do ye think that ye can destroy wrong by retaliating evil for evil and thus increasing wrong. Leave the wicked to their fate and their evil deeds will sooner or later in one way or another bring on their own punishment." And the Tathāgata repeated these stanzas:14

 

"Who harmeth him that doth no harm
And striketh him that striketh not,
Shall gravest punishment incur
The which his wickedness begot,

"Some of the greatest ills in life
Either a loathsome dread disease,

Or dread old age, or loss of mind,
Or wretched pain without surcease,

"Or conflagration, loss of wealth;
Or of his nearest kin he shall
See someone die that's dear to him,
And then he'll be reborn in hell."             

THE LAST DAYS.

LXXXVIII.

THE CONDITIONS OF WELFARE.

WHEN the Blessed One was residing on the mount called Vulture's Peak, near Rājagaha, Ajātasattu the king of Magadha, who reigned in the place of Bimbisāra, planned an attack on the Vajjis, and he said to Vassakāra, his prime minister: "I will root out the Vajjis, mighty though they be. I will destroy the Vajjis; I will bring them to utter ruin! Come now, O Brahman, and go to the Blessed One; inquire in my name for his health, and tell him my purpose. Bear carefully in mind what the Blessed One may say, and repeat it to me, for the Buddhas speak nothing untrue."

When Vassakāra, the prime minister, had greeted the Blessed One and delivered his message, the venerable Ānanda stood behind

the Blessed One and fanned him, and the Blessed One said to him: "Hast them heard, Ānanda, that the Vajjis hold full and frequent public assemblies?"

"Lord, so I have heard," replied he.

"So long, Ānanda," said the Blessed One, "as the Vajjis hold these full and frequent public assemblies, they may be expected not to decline, but to prosper. So long as they meet together in concord, so long as they honor their elders, so long as they respect womanhood, so long as they remain religious, performing all proper rites, so long as they extend the rightful protection, defence and support to the holy ones, the Vajjis may be expected not to decline, but to prosper."

Then the Blessed One addressed Vassākara and said: "When I stayed, O Brahman, at Vesālī, I taught the Vajjis these conditions of welfare, that so long as they should remain well instructed, so long as they will continue in the right path, so long as they live up to the precepts of righteousness, we could expect them not to decline, but to prosper."

As soon as the king's messenger had gone, the Blessed One had the brethren, that were in the neighborhood of Rājagaha, assembled in the service-hall, and addressed them, saying:

"I will teach you, O bhikkhus, the conditions of the welfare of a community. Listen well, and I will speak.

"So long, O bhikkhus, as the brethren hold full and frequent assemblies, meeting in concord, rising in concord, and attending in concord to the affairs of the Sangha; so long as they, O bhikkhus, do not abrogate that which experience has proved to be good, and introduce nothing except such things as have been carefully tested; so long as their elders practice justice; so long as the brethren esteem, revere, and support their elders, and hearken unto their words; so long as the brethren are not under the no influence of craving, but delight in the blessings of religion, so that good and holy men shall come to them and dwell among them in quiet; so long as the brethren shall not be addicted to sloth and idleness; so long as the brethren shall exercise themselves in the sevenfold higher wisdom of mental activity, search after truth, energy, joy, modesty, self-control, earnest contemplation, and equanimity of mind,—so long the Sangha may be expected not to decline, but to prosper.

"Therefore, O bhikkhus, be full of faith, modest in heart, afraid of sin, anxious to learn, strong in energy, active in mind, and full of wisdom."

 

LXXXIX.

SĀRIPUTTA'S FAITH.

The Blessed One proceeded with a great company of the brethren to Nālandā; and there he stayed in a mango grove.

Now the venerable Sāriputta came to the place where the Blessed One was, and having saluted him, took his seat respectfully at his side, and said: "Lord! such faith have I in the Blessed One, that methinks there never has been, nor will there be, nor is there now any other, who is greater or wiser than the Blessed One, that is to say, as regards the higher wisdom."

Replied the Blessed One: "Grand and bold are the words of thy mouth, Sāriputta: verily, thou hast burst forth into a song of ecstasy! Surely then thou hast known all the Blessed Ones who in the long ages of the past have been holy Buddhas?"

"Not so, O Lord!" said Sāriputta.

And the Lord continued: "Then thou hast perceived all the Blessed Ones who in the long ages of the future shall be holy Buddhas?"

"Not so, O Lord!"

"But at least then, O Sāriputta, thou knowest me as the holy Buddha now alive, and hast penetrated my mind."

"Not even that, O Lord!"

"Thou seest then, Sāriputta, that thou knowest not the hearts of the holy. Buddhas of the past nor the hearts of those of the future. Why, therefore, are thy words so grand and bold? Why burstest thou forth into such a song of ecstasy?"

"O Lord! I have not the knowledge of the hearts of all the Buddhas that have been and are to come, and now are. I only know the lineage of the faith. Just as a king, Lord, might have a border city, strong in its foundations, strong in its ramparts and with one gate only; and the king might have a watchman there, clever, expert, and wise to stop all strangers and admit only friends. And on going over the approaches all about the city, he might not be able so to observe all the joints and crevices in the ramparts of that city as to know where such a small creature as a cat could get out. That might well be. Yet all living beings of larger size that entered or left" the city, would have to pass through that gate. Thus only is it, Lord, that I know the lineage of the faith. I know that the holy Buddhas of the past, putting away all lust; ill-will, sloth, pride, and doubt, knowing all those mental faults which make men weak, training their minds in the four kinds of mental activity, " thoroughly exercising themselves in the sevenfold higher wisdom, received the full fruition of Enlightenment. And I know that the holy Buddhas of the times to come will do the same. And I know that the Blessed One, the holy Buddha of to-day, has done so now."

"Great is thy faith, O Sāriputta," replied the Blessed One, "but take heed that it be well grounded.

 

XC.

PATALIPUTTA.

When the Blessed One had stayed as long as convenient at Nālandā, he went to Pātaliputta, the frontier town of Magadha; and when the disciples at Pātaliputta heard of his arrival, they invited him to their village rest-house. And the Blessed One robed himself, took his bowl and went with the brethren to the rest-house. There he washed his feet, entered the hall, and seated himself against the center pillar, with his face towards the east. The brethren, also, having washed their feet, entered the hall, and took their seats round the Blessed One, against the western wall, facing the east. And the lay devotees of Pātaliputta, having also washed their feet, entered the hall, and took their seats opposite the Blessed One, against the eastern wall, facing towards the west.

Then the Blessed One addressed the lay-disciples of Pātaliputta, and he said:

"Fivefold, O householders, is the loss of the wrong-doer through his want of rectitude. In the first place, the wrong-doer, devoid of rectitude, falls into great poverty through sloth; in the next place, his evil repute gets noised abroad; thirdly, whatever society he enters, whether of Brahmans, nobles, heads of houses, or samanas, he enters shyly and confusedly; fourthly, he is full of anxiety when he dies; and lastly, on the dissolution of the body after death, his mind remains in an unhappy state. Wherever his karma continues, there will be suffering and woe. This, O house-holders, is the fivefold loss of the evil-doer!

"Fivefold, O householders, is the gain of the well-doer through his practice of rectitude. In the first place the well-doer, strong in rectitude, acquires property through his industry; in the next place, good reports of him are spread abroad; thirdly, whatever society he enters, whether

of nobles, Brahmans, heads of houses, or members of the order, he enters with confidence and self-possession; fourthly, he dies without anxiety; and, lastly, on the dissolution of the body after death, his mind remains in a happy state. Wherever his karma continues, there will be heavenly bliss and peace. This, O householders, is the fivefold gain of the well doer."

When the Blessed One had taught the disciples, and incited them, and roused them, and gladdened them far into the night with religious edification, he dismissed them, saying, "The night is far spent, O householders. It is time for you to do what ye deem most fit,"

"Be it so, Lord!" answered the disciples of Pātaliputta, and rising from their seats, they bowed to the Blessed One, and keeping him on their right hand as they passed him, they departed thence.

While the Blessed One stayed at Pātaliputta, the king of Magadha sent a messenger to the governor of Pātaliputta to raise fortifications for the security of the town.

And the Blessed One seeing the laborers at work predicted the future greatness of the place, saying: "The men who build the fortress act as if they had consulted higher powers. For this city of Pātaliputta will be a dwelling-place of busy men and a center for the exchange of all kinds of goods. But three dangers hang over Pātaliputta, that of fire, that of water, that of dissension."

When the governor heard of the prophecy of Pātaliputta's future, he greatly rejoiced and named the city-gate through which the Buddha had gone towards the river Ganges, "The Gotama Gate."

Meanwhile the people living on the banks of the Ganges arrived in great numbers to pay reverence to the Lord of the world; and many persons asked him to do them the honor to cross over in their boats. But the Blessed One considering the number of the boats and their beauty did not want to show any partiality, and by accepting the invitation of one to offend all the others. He therefore crossed the river without any boat, signifying thereby that the rafts of asceticism and the gaudy gondolas of religious ceremonies were not staunch enough to weather the storms of Samsara, while the Tathagata can walk dry-shod over the ocean of worldliness.

And as the city gate was called after the name of the Tathāgata so the people called this passage of the river "Gotama Ford."

 

 

 

 

XCI.

THE MIRROR OF TRUTH.

The Blessed One proceeded to the village Nādikā with a great company of brethren and there he stayed at the Brick Hall. And the venerable Ānanda went to the Blessed One and mentioning to him the names of the brethren and sisters that had died, anxiously inquired about their fate after death, whether they had been reborn in animals or in hell, or as ghosts, or in any place of woe.

And the Blessed One replied to Ānanda and said:

"Those who have died after the complete destruction of the three bonds of lust, of covetousness and of the egotistical cleaving to existence, need not fear the state after death. They will not be reborn in a state of suffering; their minds will not continue as a karma of evil deeds or sin, but are assured of final salvation.

"When they die, nothing will remain of them but their good thoughts, their righteous acts, and the bliss that proceeds from truth and righteousness. As rivers must at last reach the distant main, so their minds will be reborn in higher states of existence and continue to be pressing on

to their ultimate goal which is the ocean of truth, the eternal peace of Nirvāna.

"Men are anxious about death and their fate after death; but consider, it is not at all strange, Ānanda, that a human being should die. However, that thou shouldst inquire about them, and having heard the truth still be anxious about the dead, this is wearisome to the Blessed One. I will, therefore, teach thee the mirror of truth and let the faithful disciple repeat it:

"'Hell is destroyed for me, and rebirth as an animal, or a ghost, or in any place of woe. I am converted; I am no longer liable to be reborn in a state of suffering, and am assured of final salvation.'

"What, then, Ānanda, is this mirror of truth? It is the consciousness that the elect disciple is in this world possessed of faith in the Buddha, believing the Blessed One to be the Holy One, the Fully-enlightened One, wise, upright, happy, world-knowing, supreme, the Bridler of men's wayward hearts, the Teacher of gods and men, the blessed Buddha.

"It is further the consciousness that the disciple is possessed of faith in the truth, believing the truth to have been proclaimed by the Blessed One, for the benefit of the world, passing not away, welcoming all, leading to salvation, to which through truth the wise will attain, each one by his own efforts.8

'And, finally, it is the consciousness that the disciple is possessed of faith in the order, believing in the efficacy of a union among those men and women who are anxious to walk in the noble eightfold path? believing this church of the Buddha, of the righteous, the upright, the just, the law-abiding, to be worthy of honor, of hospitality, of gifts, and of reverence; to be the supreme sowing-ground of merit for the world; to be possessed of the virtues beloved by the good, virtues unbroken, intact, unspotted, unblemished,

virtues which make men truly free, virtues which are praised by the wise, are untarnished by the desire of selfish aims, either now or in a future life, or by the belief in the efficacy of outward acts, and are conducive to high and holy thought.

"This is the mirror of truth which teaches the straightest way to enlightenment which is the common goal of all living creatures. He who possesses the mirror of truth is free from fear; he will find comfort in the tribulations of life, and his life will be a blessing to all his fellow-creatures."

XCII.

AMBAPĀLI.

Then the Blessed One proceeded with a great number of brethren to Vesālī, and he stayed at the grove of the courtesan Āmbapālī And he said to the brethren: "Let a brother, O bhikkhus, be mindful and thoughtful. Let a brother, whilst in the world, overcome the grief which arises from bodily craving, from the lust of sensations, and from the errors of wrong reasoning. Whatever you do, act always in full presence of mind. Be thoughtful in eating and drinking, in walking or standing, in sleeping or waking, while talking or being silent."

When the courtesan Ambapālī heard that the Blessed One was staying in her mango grove, she wase xceedingly glad and went in a carriage as far as the ground was passable for carriages. There she alighted and thence proceeding to the place where the Blessed One was, she took her seat respectfully at his feet on one side. As a prudent woman goes forth to perform her religious duties, so she appeared in a simple dress without any ornaments, yet beautiful to look upon.

 

And the Blessed One thought to himself: "This woman moves in worldly circles and is a favorite of longs and princes; yet is her heart calm and composed. Young in years, rich, surrounded by pleasures, she is thoughtful and steadfast. This, indeed, is rare in the world. Women, as a rule, are scant in wisdom and deeply immersed in vanity; but "she, although living in luxury, has acquired the wisdom of a master, taldng delight in piety, and able to receive the truth in its completeness."

When she was seated, the Blessed One instructed, aroused, and gladdened her with religious discourse.

As she listened to the law, her face brightened with delight. Then she rose and said to the Blessed One: "Will the Blessed One do me the honor of taking his meal, together with the brethren, at my house to-morrow?" And the Blessed One gave, by silence, his consent.

Now, the Licchavi, a wealthy family of princely rank, hearing that the Blessed One had arrived at Vesālī and was staying at Ambapālī's grove, mounted their magnificent carriages, and proceeded with their retinue to the place where the Blessed One was. And the Licchavi were gorgeously dressed in bright colors and decorated with costly jewels.

And Ambapālī drove up against the young Licchavi, axle to axle, wheel to wheel, and yoke to yoke, and the Licchavi said to Ambapālī, the courtesan: "How is it, Ambapālī, that you drive up against us thus?"

"My lords," said she, "I have just invited the Blessed One and his brethren for there to-morrow's meal"

And the princes replied: "Ambapālī! give up this meal to us for a hundred thousand."

"My lords, were you to offer all Vesālī with its subject territory, I would not give up so great an honor!"

Then the Licchavi went on to Ambapālī's grove.

When the Blessed One saw the Licchavi approaching in the distance, he addressed the brethren, and said: "O brethren, let those of the brethren who have never seen the gods gaze upon this company of the Licchavi, for they are dressed gorgeously, like immortals."

And when they had driven as far as the ground was passable for carriages, the Licchavi alighted and went on foot to the place where the Blessed One was, taking their seats respectfully by his side. And when they were thus seated, the Blessed One instructed, aroused, and gladdened them with religious discourse.

Then they addressed the Blessed One and said: "Will the Blessed One do us the honor of taking his meal, together with the brethren, at our, palace to-morrow?"

"O Licchavi," said the Blessed One, "I have promised to dine to-morrow with Ambapali, the courtesan."

Then the Licchavi, expressing their approval of the words of the Blessed One, arose from their seats and bowed down before the Blessed One, and, keeping him on their right hand as they passed him, they departed thence? but when they came home, they cast up their hands, saying: "A worldly woman has outdone us; we have been left behind by a frivolous girl!"

And at the end of the night Ambapali, the courtesan, made ready in her mansion sweet rice and cakes, and on the next day announced through a messenger the time to the Blessed One, saying, "The hour, Lord, has come, and the meal is ready!"

And the Blessed One robed himself early in the morning, took his bowl, and went with the brethren to the place where Ambapālī's dwelling-house was; and when they had come there they seated themselves on the seats prepared for them. And Ambapālī, the courtesan, set the sweet rice and calces before the order, with the Buddha at their head, and waited upon them till they refused to take more.

And when the Blessed One had finished his meal, the courtesan had a low stool brought, and sat down at his side, and addressed the Blessed One, and said: "Lord, I present this mansion to the order of bhikkhus, of which the Buddha is the chief."

And the Blessed One accepted the gift; and after instructing, arousing, and gladdening her with religious edification, he rose from his seat and departed thence.

XCIII.

THE BUDDHA'S FAREWELL ADDRESS.

When the Blessed One had remained as long as he wished at Ambapālī's grove, he went to Beluva, near Vesālī. There the Blessed One addressed the brethren, and said: "O mendicants, take up your abode for the rainy season round about Vesālī, each one according to the place where his friends and near companions may live. I shall enter upon the rainy season here at Beluva."

When the Blessed One had thus entered upon the rainy season there fell upon him a dire sickness, and sharp pains came upon him even unto death. But the Blessed One, mindful and self-possessed, bore his ailments without complaint.

Then this thought occurred to the Blessed One, "It would not be right for me to pass away from life without addressing the disciples, without taking leave of the order. Let me now, by a strong effort of the will, subdue this sickness, and keep my hold on life till the allotted time have come."

And the Blessed One, by a strong effort of the will subdued the sickness, and kept his hold on life till the time he fixed upon, should come. And the sickness abated.

Thus the Blessed One began to recover; and when he had quite got rid of the sickness, he went out from the monastery, and sat down on a seat spread out in the open air. And the venerable Ānanda, accompanied by many other disciples, approached where the Blessed One was, saluted him, and taking a seat respectfully on one side, said: "I have beheld, Lord, how the Blessed One was in health, and I have beheld how the Blessed One had to suffer. And though at the sight of the sickness of the Blessed One my body became weak as a creeper, and the horizon became dim to me, and my faculties were no longer clear, yet notwithstanding I took some little comfort from the thought that the Blessed One would not pass away from existence until at least he had left instructions as touching the order."

And the Blessed One addressed Ānanda in behalf of the order, saying:

"What, then, Ānanda, does the order expect of me? I have preached the truth without making any distinction between exoteric and esoteric doctrine; for in respect of the truth, Ānanda, the Tathāgata has no such thing as the closed fist of a teacher, who keeps some things back.

"Surely, Ānanda, should there be any one who harbors the thought, 'It is I who will lead the brotherhood,' or, 'The order is dependent upon me,' he should lay down instructions, in any matter concerning the order. Now the Tathāgata, Ānanda, thinks not that it is he who should lead the brotherhood, or that the order is dependent upon him.

"Why, then, should the Tathāgata leave instructions in any matter concerning the order?

"I am now grown old, O Ānanda, and full of years; my journey is drawing to its close, I have reached the sum of my days, I am turning eighty years of age.

"Just as a worn-out cart cannot be made to move along without much difficulty, so the body of the Tathāgata can only be kept going with much additional care.

"It is only, Ānanda, when the Tathāgata, ceasing to attend to any outward thing, becomes plunged in that devout meditation of heart which is concerned with no bodily object, it is only then that the body of the Tathāgata is at ease.

"Therefore, O Ānanda, be ye lamps unto yourselves. Rely on yourselves, and do not rely on external help.

"Hold fast to the truth as a lamp. Seek salvation alone in the truth. Look not for assistance to any one besides yourselves.

"And how, Ānanda, can a brother be a lamp unto himself, rely on himself only and not on any external help, holding fast to the truth as his lamp and seeking salvation in the truth alone, looking not for assistance to any one besides himself?

"Herein, O Ānanda, let a brother, as he dwells in the body, so regard the body that he, being strenuous, thoughtful, and mindful, may, whilst in the world, overcome the grief which arises from the body's cravings.

"While subject to sensations let him continue so to regard the sensations that he, being strenuous, thoughtful, and mindful, may, whilst in the world, overcome the grief which arises from the sensations.

"And so, also, when he thinks or reasons, or feels, let him so regard his thoughts that being strenuous, thoughtful, and mindful he may, whilst in the world, overcome the grief which arises from the craving due to ideas, or to reasoning, or to feeling.

"Those who, either now or after I am dead, shall be lamps unto themselves, relying upon themselves only and not relying upon any external help, but holding fast to the truth as their lamp, and seeking their salvation in the truth alone, and shall not look for assistance to any one besides themselves, it is they, Ānanda, among my bhikkhus, who shall reach the very topmost height! But they must be anxious to learn."

 

 

XCIV.

THE BUDDHA ANNOUNCES HIS DEATH.

Said the Tathāgata to Ānanda: "In former years, Ānanda, Māra, the Evil One, approached the holy Buddha three times to tempt him.

"And now, Ānanda, Māra, the Evil One, came again today to the place where I was, and, standing beside me, addressed me in the same words as he did when I was resting under the shepherd's Nigrodha tree on the bank of the Nerañjara river: 'Be greeted, thou Holy One. Thou hast attained the highest bliss and it is time for thee to enter into the final Nirvāna.'

"And when Māra had thus spoken, Ānanda, I answered him and said: 'Make thyself happy, O wicked one; the final extinction of the Tathāgata shall take place before long.' "

And the venerable Ānanda addressed the Blessed One and said: "Vouchsafe, Lord, to remain with us, O Blessed One! for the good and the happiness of the great multitudes, out of pity for the world, for the good and the gain of makind!"

Said the Blessed One: "Enough now, Ananda, beseech not the Tathāgata!"

And again, a second time, the venerable Ananda besought the Blessed One in the same words. And he received from the Blessed One the same reply.

And again, the third time, the venerable. Ananda besought the Blessed One to live longer; and the Blessed One said: "Hast thou faith, Ananda?"

Said Ananda: "I have, my Lord!"

And the Blessed One, seeing the quivering eyelids of Ananda, read the deep grief in the heart of his beloved disciple, and he asked again: "Hast thou, indeed, faith, Ānanda?

And Ānanda said: "I have faith, my Lord."

Than the Blessed One continued: "It" thou hast faith, Ānanda, in the wisdom of the Tathāgata, why, then, Ănanda, dost thou trouble the Tathāgata even until the third time? Have I not formerly declared to you that it is in the very nature of all compound things that they must be dissolved again. We must separate ourselves from all things near and dear to us, and must leave them. How then, Ānanda, can it be possible for me to remain, since everything that is born, or brought into being, and organized, contains within itself the inherent necessity of dissolution? How, then, can it be possible that this body of mine should not be dissolved? No such condition can exist! 'And this mortal existence, O Ananda, has been relinquished, cast away, renounced, rejected, and abandoned by the Tathāgata."

And the Blessed One said to Ananda: "Go now, Ānanda, and assemble in the Service Hall such of the brethren as reside in the neighborhood of Vesālī."

Then the Blessed One proceeded to the Service Hall, and sat down there on the mat spread out for him. And when he was 'seated, the Blessed One addressed the brethren, and said:

"O brethren, ye to whom the truth has been made known, having thoroughly made yourselves masters of it, practice it, meditate upon it, and spread it abroad, in order that pure religion may last long and be perpetuated, in order that it may continue for the good and happiness of the great multitudes, out of pity for the world, and to the good and gain of all living beings!

"Star-gazing and astrology, forecasting lucky or unfortunate events by signs, prognosticating good or evil, all these are things forbidden.

"He who lets his heart go loose without restraint shall not attain Nirvana; therefore, must we hold the heart in check, and retire from worldly excitements and seek tranquility of mind.
"Ear your food to satisfy your hunger, and drink to satisfy you thirst. Satisfy the necessities of life like the butterfly that sips the flower, without destroying its fragrance or its texture.

"It is through not understanding and grasping the four truths, O brethren, that we have gone astray so long, and wandered in this weary path of transmigrations, both you and I, until we have found the truth.

"Practice the earnest meditations I have taught you. Continue in the great struggle against sin. Walk steadily in the roads of saintship. Be strong in moral powers. Let the organs of your spiritual sense be quick. When the seven kinds of wisdom enlighten your mind, you will find the noble, eightfold path that leads to Nirvāna.

"Behold, O brethren, the final extinction of the Tathāgata will take place before long. I now exhort you, saying: All component things must grow old and be dissolved again. Seek ye for that which is permanent, and work out your salvation with diligence.'"

 

 

XCV.

CHUNDA, THE SMITH.

And the Blessed One went to Pāvā.

When Chunda, the worker in metals, heard that the Blessed One had come to Pāvā and was staying in his mango grove, he came to the Buddha and respectfully invited him and the brethren to take their meal at his house. And Chunda prepared rice-cakes and a dish of dried boar's meat.2

When the Blessed One had eaten the food prepared by Chunda, the worker in metals, there fell upon him a dire sickness, and sharp pain came upon him even unto death. But the Blessed One, mindful and self-possessed, bore it without complaint.

And the Blessed One addressed the venerable Ānanda, and said: "Come, Ānanda, let us go on to Kusinārā."

On his way the Blessed One grew tired, and he went aside from the road to rest at the foot of a tree, and said: "Fold the robe, I pray thee, Ananda, and spread it out for me. I am weary, Ananda, and must rest awhile!"

"Be it so, Lord!" said the venerable Ānanda; and he spread out the robe folded fourfold.

The Blessed One seated himself, and when he was seated he addressed the venerable Anandaj and said: "Fetch me some water, I pray thee, Ānanda. I am thirsty, Ānanda, and would drink."

When he had thus spoken, the venerable Ānanda said to the Blessed One: "But just now, Lord, five hundred carts have gone across the brook and have stirred the water; but a river, O Lord, is not far off. Its water is clear and pleasant, cool and transparent, and it is easy to get down to it. There the Blessed One may both drink water and cool his limbs."

A second time the Blessed One addressed the venerable Ananda, saying: "Fetch me some water, I pray thee Ānanda, I am thirsty, Ānanda, and would drink."

And a second time the venerable Ananda said: "Let us go to the river."

Then the third time the Blessed One addressed the venerable Ānanda, and said: "Fetch me some water, I pray thee, Ānanda, I am thirsty, Ananda, and would drink."

"Be it so, Lord!" said the venerable Ānanda in assent to the Blessed One; and, taking a bowl, he went down to the streamlet. And lo! the streamlet, which, stirred up by wheels, had become muddy, when the venerable Ānanda came up to it, flowed clear and bright and free from all turbidity. And he thought: "How wonderful, how marvelous is the great might and power of the Tathāgata!"

Ānanda brought the water in the bowl to the Lord, saying: "Let the Blessed One take the bowl. Let the Happy One drink the water. Let the Teacher of men and gods quench his thirst."

Then the Blessed One drank of the water.

Now, at that time a man of low caste, named Pukkusa, a young Malia, a disciple of Alāra Kālāma, was passing along the high road from Kusinārā to Pāvā.

And Pukkusa, the young Malla, saw the Blessed One 'seated at the foot of a tree. On seeing him, he went up to the place where the Blessed One was, and when he had come there, he saluted the Blessed One and took his seat respectfully on one side. Then the Blessed One instructed, edified, and gladdened Pukkusa, the young Malla, with religious discourse.

Aroused and gladdened by the words of the Blessed One, Pukkusa, the young Malla, addressed a certain man who happened to pass by, and said: "Fetch me, I pray thee, my good man, two robes of cloth of gold, burnished and ready for wear."

"Be it so, ski" said that man in assent to Pukkusa, the young Malla; and he brought two robes of cloth of gold, burnished and ready for wear.

And the Malla Pukkusa presented the two robes of cloth of gold, burnished and ready for wear, to the Blessed One, saing: "Lord, these two robes of burnished cloth of gold are ready for wear. May the Blessed One show me favor and accept them at my hands!"

The Blessed One said: "Pukkusa, robe me in one, and Ānanda in the other."

And the Tathāgata's body appeared shining like a flame, and he was beautiful above all expression.

And the venerable Ānanda said to the Blessed One: "How wonderful a thing is it, Lord, and how marvellous, that the color or the skin of the Blessed One should be so clear, so exceedingly bright! When I placed this robe of burnished cloth of gold on the body of the Blessed One, lo! it seemed as if it had lost its splendor!"

The Blessed One said: "There are two occasions on which a Tathāgata's appearance becomes clear and exceeding bright. In the night, Ānanda, in which a Tathāgata attains to the supreme and perfect insight, and in the night in which he passes finally away in that utter passing away which leaves nothing whatever of his earthly existence to remain."

And the Blessed One addressed the venerable Ananda, and said: "Now it may happen, Ānanda, that someone should stir up remorse in Chunda, the smith, by saying: 'It is evil to thee, Chunda, and loss to thee, that the Tathāgata died, having eaten his last meal from thy provision.' Any such remorse, Ānanda, in Chunda, the smith, should be checked by saying: 'It is good to thee, Chunda, and gain to thee, that the Tathāgata died, having eaten his last meal from thy provision. From the very mouth of the Blessed One, O Chunda, have I heard, from his own mouth have I received this saying, "These two offerings of food are of equal fruit and of much greater profit than any other: the offerings of food which a Tathāgata accepts when he has attained perfect enlightenment and when he passes away by the utter passing away in which nothing whatever of his earthly existence remains behind—these two offerings of food are of equal fruit and of equal profit, and of much greater fruit and much greater profit than any other. There has been laid up by Chunda, the smith, a karma redounding to length of life, redounding to good birth, redounding to good fortune, redounding to good fame, redounding to the inheritance of heaven and of great power." In this way, Ānanda, should be checked any remorse in Chunda, the smith,"

Then the Blessed One, perceiving that death was near, uttered these words: "He who gives away shall have real gain. He who subdues himself shall be free, he shall cease to be a slave of passions. The righteous man casts off evil; and by rooting out lust, bitterness, and illusion, do we reach Nirvāna."

XCVI.

METTEYYA.

The Blessed One proceeded with a great company of the brethren to the sala grove of the Mallas, the Upavattana of Kusinārā on the further side of the river Hiraññavatī, and when he had arrived he addressed the venerable Ananda, and said: "Make ready for me, I pray you, Ānanda, the couch with its head to the north, between the twin sāla trees. I am weary, Ananda, and wish to lie down."

"Be it so, Lord!" said the venerable Ānanda, and he spread a couch with its head to the north, between the twin sāla trees. And the Blessed One laid himself down, and he was mindful and self-possessed.

Now, at that time the twin sāla trees were full of bloom with flowers out of season; and heavenly songs came wafted from the sides, out of reverence for the successor of the Buddhas of old. And Ānanda was filled with wonder that the Blessed One was thus honored. But the Blessed One said: "Not by such events, Ananda, is the Tathāgata rightly honored, held sacred, or revered. But the brother or the sister, the devout man or the devout woman, who continually fulfils all the greater and the lesser duties, walking according to the precepts, it is they who rightly honor, hold sacred, and revere the Tathāgata with the worthiest homage. Therefore, O Ānanda, be ye constant in the fulfilment of the greater and of the lesser duties, and walk according to the precepts; thus, Ānanda, will ye honor the Master.'

Then the venerable Ānanda went into the vihāra, and stood leaning against the doorpost, weeping at the thought: "Alas! I remain still but a learner, one who has yet to work out his own perfection. And the Master is about to pass away from me—he who is so kind!"

Now, the Blessed One called the brethren, and said: "Where, O brethren, is Ānanda?"

And one of the brethren went and called Ānanda. And Ǎnanda came and said to the Blessed One: "Deep darkness reigned for want of wisdom; the world of sentient creatures was groping for want of light; then the Tathāgata lit up the lamp of wisdom, and now it will be extinguished again, ere he has brought it out."

And the Blessed One said to the venerable Ānanda, as he sat there by his side:

"Enough, Ānanda! Let not thy self be troubled; do not weep! Have I not already, on former occasions, ,told you that it is in the very nature of all things most near and dear unto us that we must separate from them and leave them?

"The foolish man conceives the idea of 'self,' the wise man sees there is no ground on which to build the idea of 'self,' thus he has a right conception of the world and well concludes that all compounds amassed by sorrow will be dissolved again, but the truth will remain.

"Why should I preserve this body of flesh, when the body of the excellent law will endure? I am resolved; having accomplished my purpose and attended to the work set me, I look for rest!

"For a long time, Ānanda, thou hast, been very near to me by thoughts and acts of such love as never varies and Is beyond all measure. Thou hast done well, Ānanda! Be earnest in effort and thou too shalt soon be free from the great evils, from sensuality, from selfishness, from delusion, and from ignorance!'

And Ānanda, suppressing his tears, said to the Blessed One: "Who shall teach us when thou art gone?"

And the Blessed One replied: "I am not the first Buddha who came upon earth, nor shall I be the last. In due time another Buddha will- arise in the world, a Holy One, a supremely enlightened One, endowed with wisdom in conduct, auspicious, knowing the universe, an incomparable leader of men, a master of angels and mortals. He will reveal to you the same eternal truths which I have taught you. He will preach his religion, glorious in its origin, glorious at the climax, and glorious at the goal, in the spirit and in the letter. He will proclaim a religious life, wholly perfect and pure; such as I now proclaim."

Ānanda said: "How shall we know him?"

The Blessed One said: "He will be known as Metteyya, which means ( he whose name is kindness.'"

XCVII.

THE BUDDHA'S FINAL ENTERING INTO NIRVĀNA.

Then the Mallas, with their young men and maidens and their wives, being grieved, and sad, and afflicted at heart, went to the Upavattana, the sala grove of the Mallas, and wanted to see the Blessed One, in order to partake of the bliss that devolves upon those who are in the presence of the Holy One.

And the Blessed One addressed them and said:

"Seeking the way, ye must exert yourselves and strive with diligence. It is not enough to have seen me! Walk as I have commanded you; free yourselves from the tangled net of sorrow. Walk in the path with steadfast aim.

"A sick man may be cured by the healing power of medicine and will be rid of all his ailments without beholding the physician.

"He who does not do what I command sees me in vain. This brings no profit. Whilst he who Jives far off from where I am and yet walks righteously is ever near me.

"A man may dwell beside me, and yet, being disobedient, be far away from me. Yet he who obeys the Dharma will always enjoy the bliss of the Tathāgata's presence."

Then the mendicant Subhadda went to the sāla grove of the Mallas and said to the venerable Ānanda: "I have heard from fellow mendicants of mine, who were deep stricken in years and teachers of great experience: 'Sometimes and full seldom to Thagātas appear in the world, the holy Buddhas.' Now it is said that to-day in the last watch of the night, the final passing away of the samana Gotama will take place. My mind is full of uncertainty, yet have I faith in the samana Gotama and trust he will be able so to present the truth that I may become rid of my doubts. O that I might be allowed to see the samana Gotama!"

When he had thus spoken the venerable Ānanda said to the mendicant Subhadda: "Enough! friend Subhadda. Trouble not the Tathāgata. The Blessed One is weary."

Now the Blessed One overheard this conversation of the venerable Ānanda with the mendicant Subhadda. And the Blessed One called the venerable Ānanda, and said: "Ānanda! Do not keep out Subhadda. Subhadda may be allowed to see the Tathāgata. Whatever Subhadda will ask of me, he will ask from a desire for knowledge, and not to annoy me, and whatever I may say in answer to his questions, that he will quickly understand."

Then the venerable Ananda said to Subhadda the mendicant: "Step in, friend Subhadda; for the Blessed One gives thee leave."

When the Blessed One had instructed Subhadda, and aroused and gladdened him with words of wisdom and comfort, Subhadda said to the Blessed One:

"Glorious Lord, glorious Lord! Most excellent are the words of thy mouth, most excellent! They set up that which has been overturned; they reveal that which has been hidden. They point out the right road to the wanderer who has gone astray. They bring a lamp into the darkness so that those who have eyes to see can see. Thus, Lord, the truth has been made known to me by the Blessed One and I take my refuge in the Blessed One, in the Truth, and in the Order. May the Blessed One accept me as a disciple and true believer, from this day forth as long as life endures."

And Subhadda, the mendicant, said to the venerable Ananda: "Great is thy gain, friend Ānanda, great is thy good fortune, that for so many years thou hast been sprinkled with the sprinkling of disciple ship in this brotherhood at the hands of the Master himself!"

Now the Blessed One -addressed the venerable Ānanda, and said: "It may be, Ānanda, that in some of you the thought may arise, 'The word of the Master is ended, we have no teacher more!' But it is not thus, Ānanda, that you should regard it. It is true that no<more shall I receive a body, for all future sorrow has now forever passed away. But though this body will be dissolved, the Tathāgata remains. The truth and the rules of the order which I have set forth and laid down for you all, let them, after I am gone, be a teacher unto you. When I am gone, Ananda, let the order, if it should so wish, abolish all the lesser and minor precepts."

Then the Blessed One addressed the brethren, and said: "There may be some doubt or misgiving in the mind of a brother as to the Buddha, or the truth, or the path. Do not have to reproach yourselves afterwards with the thought, We did not inquire of the Blessed One when we were face to face with him.' Therefore inquire now, O brethren, inquire freely."

And the brethren remained silent.

Then the venerable Ānanda said to the Blessed- One: "Verily, I believe that in this whole assembly of the brethren there is not one brother who has any doubt or misgiving as to the Buddha, or the truth, or the path!"

Said the Blessed One: "It is out of the fullness of faith that thou hast spoken, Ānanda! But, Ānanda, the Tathāgata knows for certain that in this whole assembly of the brethren there is not one brother who has any doubt or misgiving as to the Buddha, or the truth, or the path! For even the most backward, Ānanda, of all these brethren has become converted, and is assured of final salvation."

Then the Blessed One addressed the brethren and said: "If ye now know the Dharma, the cause of all suffering, and the path of salvation, O disciples, will ye then say: We respect the Master, and out of reverence foi; the Master do we thus speak?'"

The brethren replied: "That we shall not, O Lord."

And the Holy One continued:

"Of those beings who live in ignorance, shut up and confined, as it were, in an egg, I have first broken the egg-shell of ignorance and alone in the universe obtained the most exalted, universal Buddhahood. Thus, O disciples, I am the eldest, the noblest of beings.

"But what ye speak, O disciples, is it not even that which ye have yourselves known, yourselves seen, yourselves realised?"

Ānanda and the brethren said: "It is, O Lord."

Once more the Blessed One began to speak: "Behold now, brethren," said he, "I exhort you, saying, 'Decay is inherent in all component things, but the truth will remain forever!' Work out your salvation with diligence!" This' was the last word of the Tathāgata. Then the Tathāgata fell into a deep meditation, and having passed through the four jhanas, entered Nirvāna.

When the Blessed One entered Nirvāna there arose, at his passing out of existence, a mighty earthquake, terrible and awe-inspiring: and the thunders of heaven burst forth, and of those of the brethren who were not yet free from passions some stretched out their arms and wept, and some fell headlong on the ground, in anguish at the thought: "Too soon has the Blessed One died! Too soon has the Happy One passed away from existence! Too soon has the Light of the world gone out!"

Then the venerable Anuruddha exhorted the brethren and said: "Enough, my brethren! Weep not, neither lament! Has not the Blessed One formerly declared this to us, that it is in the very nature of all things near and dear unto us, that we must separate from them and leave them, since everything that is born, brought into being, and organized, contains within itself the inherent necessity of dissolution? How then can it be possible that the body of the Tathāgata should not be dissolved? No such condition can exist! Those who are free from passion will bear the loss, calm and self-possessed, mindful of the truth he has taught us."

And the venerable Anuruddha and the venerable Ānanda spent the rest of the night in religious discourse.

Then the venerable Anuruddha said to the venerable Ānanda: "Go now, brother Ānanda, and inform the Mallas of Kusinara saying, 'The Blessed One has passed away: do, then, whatsoever seemeth to you fit!'"

And when the Mallas had heard this saying they were grieved, and sad, and afflicted at heart.

Then the Mallas of Kusinārā gave orders to their attendants, saying, "Gather together perfumes and garlands, and all the music in Kusinārā!" And the Mallas of Kusinārā took the perfumes and garlands, and all the musical instruments, and five hundred garments, and went to the sāla grove where the body of the Blessed One lay. There they passed the day in paying honor and reverence to the remains of the Blessed One, with hymns, and music, and with garlands and perfumes, and in making canopies of their garments, and preparing decorative wreaths, to hang thereon. And they burned tie remains of the Blessed One as they would do to the body of a king of kings.

When the funeral pyre was lit, the sun and moon withdrew their shining, the peaceful streams on every side were torrent-swollen, the earth quaked, and the sturdy forests shook like aspen leaves, whilst flowers and leaves fell untimely to the ground, like scattered rain, so that all Kusinārā became strewn knee-deep with mandara flowers raining down from heaven.

When the burning ceremonies were over, Devaputta said to the multitudes that were assembled round the pyre:

"Behold, O brethren, the earthly remains of the Blessed One have been dissolved, but the truth which he has taught us lives in our minds and cleanses us from all error.

"Let us, then, go out into die world, as compassionate and merciful as our great master, and preach to all" living beings the four noble truths and the eightfold path of righteousness, so that all mankind may attain to a final salvation, taking refuge in the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Sangha."

And when the Blessed One had entered into Nirvāna, and the Mallas had burned the body with such ceremonies as would indicate that he was the great king of kings, ambassadors came from all the empires that at the time had embraced his doctrine, to claim a share of the relics; and the relics were divided into eight parts and eight dāgobas were erected for their preservation. One dāgoba was erected by the Mallas and seven others by the seven kings of those countries, whose people had taken refuge in the Buddha.

 

 

CONCLUSION.

XCVIII.

THE THREE PERSONALITIES OF THE BUDDHA.

WHEN the Blessed One had passed away into Nirvāna, the disciples came together and consulted what to do in order to keep the Dharma pure and uncorrupted by heresies.

And Upāli rose, saying:

"Our great Master used to say to the brethren: 'O bhikkhus! after my final entrance into Nirvāna you must reverence and obey the law. Regard the law as your master. The law is like unto a light that shines in the darkness, pointing out the way; it is also like unto a precious jewel to gain which you must shun no trouble, and be ready to bring any sacrifice, even, should it be needed, your own lives. Obey the Dharm follow it carefully and regard it in no way different from myself.'

"Such were the words of the Blessed One.

"The law, accordingly, which the Buddha has left us as a precious inheritance has now become the visible body of the Tathāgata. Let us, therefore, revere it and keep it sacred. For what is the use of erecting dāgobas for relics, if we neglect the spirit of the Master's teachings?"

And Anuruddha arose and said:

"Let us bear in mind, O brethren, that Gotama Siddhattha has revealed the truth to us. He was the Holy One and the Perfect One and the Blessed One, because the eternal truth had taken abode in him.

"The Tathāgata taught us that the truth existed before he was born into this world, and will exist after he has entered into the bliss of Nirvāna.

"The Tathāgata said:

"'The truth is omnipresent and eternal, endowed with excellencies innumerable, above all human nature, and ineffable in its holiness.

"Now, let us bear in mind that not this or that law which is revealed to us in the Dharma is the Buddha, but the entire truth, the truth which is eternal, omnipresent, immutable, and most excellent.

"Many regulations of the Sangha are temporary; they were prescribed because they suited the occasion and were needed for some transient emergency. The truth, however, is not temporary.

"The truth is not arbitrary nor a matter of opinion, but can be investigated, and he who earnestly searches for the truth will find it.

"The truth is hidden to the blind, but he who has the mental eye sees the truth. The truth is Buddha's essence, and the truth will remain the ultimate standard by which we can discern false and true doctrines.
"Let us, then, revere the truth; let us inquire into the truth and state it, and let us obey the truth. For the truth is Buddha our Master, our Teacher, our Lord."

And Kassapa rose and said:

"Truly thou hast spoken well, O brother Anuraddha. Neither is there any conflict of opinion on the meaning of our religion, For the Blessed One possesses three personalities, and every one of them is of equal importance to us.

"There is the Dharma Kāya, There is the Nirmāna Kāya. There is the Sambhoga Kāya.

"Buddha is the all-excellent truth, eternal, omnipresent, and immutable. This is the Sambhoga Kāya which is in a state of perfect bliss.

"Buddha is the all-loving teacher assuming the shape of the beings whom he teaches. This is the Nirmāna Kāya, his apparitional body.

"Buddha is the all-blessed dispensation, of religion. He is the spirit of the Sangha and the meaning of the commands which he has left us in his sacred word, the Dharma. This is the Dharma Kāya, the body of the most excellent law.

"If Buddha had not appeared to us as Gotama Sakyamuni, how could we have the sacred traditions of his doctrine? And if the generations "to come did not iave the sacred traditions preserved in the Sangha, how could they know anything of the great Sakyamuni? And neither we nor others would know anything about the most excellent truth which is eternal, omnipresent, and immutable.

"Let us then keep sacred and revere the traditions; let us keep sacred the memory of Gotama Sakyamuni, so that people may find the truth; for he whose spiritual eye is open will discover it, and it is the same to everyone who possesses the comprehension of a Buddha to recognize it and to expound it."

Then the brethren decided to convene a synod in Rājagaha in order to lay down the pure doctrines of the Blessed One, to collect and collate the sacred writings, and to establish a canon which should serve as a source of instruction for future generations.

XCIX.

THE PURPOSE OF BEING.

Eternal verities dominate the formation of worlds and constitute the cosmic order of natural laws. But when, through the conflicting motion of masses, the universe was illumined with blazing fire, there was no eye to see the light, no ear to listen to reason's teachings, no mind to perceive the significance of being; and in the immeasurable spaces of existence no place was found where the truth could abide in all its glory.

In the due course of evolution sentiency appeared and sense-perception arose. There was a new realm of being, the realm of soul-life, full of yearning, with powerful passions and of unconquerable energy. And the world split in twain: there were pleasures and pains, self and not self, friends and foes, hatred and love. The truth vibrated through the world of sentiency, but in all its infinite potentialities no place could be found where the truth could abide in all its glory.

And reason came forth in the struggle for life. Reason began to guide the instinct of self, and reason took the sceptre of the creation and overcame the strength of the brutes and the power of the elements. Yet reason seemed to add new fuel to the flame of hatred, increasing the turmoil of conflicting passions; and brothers slew their brothers
for the sake of satisfying the lust of a fleeting moment, And the truth repaired to the domains of reason, but in all its recesses no place was found where the truth could abide in all its glory.

Now reason, as the helpmate of self, implicated all living beings more and more in the meshes of lust, hatred, and envy, and from lust, hatred, and envy the evils of wrong-doing originated. Men broke down under the burdens of life, until the saviour appeared, the great Buddha, the Holy Teacher of men and gods.

And the Buddha taught men the right use of sentiency, and the right application of reason; and he taught men to see things as they are, without illusions, and they learned to act according to truth. He taught righteousness and thus changed rational creatures into humane beings, just, kind-hearted, and faithful. And now at last a place was found where the truth might abide in all its glory, and this place is the heart of mankind.

Buddha, O Blessed One, O Holy One, O Perfect One, thou hast revealed the truth, and the truth has appeared upon earth and the kingdom of truth has been founded.

There is not room for truth in space, infinite though it be.

There is not room for truth in sentiency, neither in its pleasures nor in its painsj sentiency is the first footstep of truth, but there is not room in it for the truth, though sentiency may beam with the blazing glow of beauty and life.

Neither is there any room for truth in rationality. Rationality is a two-edged sword and serves the purpose of love equally as well as the purpose of hatred. Rationality is 'the platform on which the truth standeth. No truth is attainable without reason. Nevertheless, in mere rationality there is no room for truth, though it be the instrument that masters the things of the world,

The throne of truth is righteousness; and love and justice and good-will are its ornaments.

Righteousness is the place in which truth dwells, and here in the hearts of mankind aspiring after the realization of righteousness, there is ample space for a rich and ever richer revelation of the truth.

This is the Gospel of the Blessed One. This is the revelation of the Englightened One. This is the bequest of the Holy One.

Those who accept the truth and have faith .in the truth, take refuge in the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Sangha.

Receive us, O Buddha, as thy disciples from this day hence, so long as our life lasts.

Comfort, O holy Teacher, compassionate and all-loving, the afflicted and the sorrow-laden, illumine those who go astray, and let us all gain more and more in comprehension and in holiness.

The truth is the end and aim of all existence, and the worlds originate so that the truth may come and dwell therein.

Those who fail to aspire for the truth have missed the purpose of life.

Blessed is he who rests in the truth, for all things will pass away, but the truth abideth forever.

The world is built for the truth, but false combinations of thought misrepresent the true state of things and bring forth errors.

Errors can be fashioned as it pleases those who cherish them; therefore they are pleasant to look upon, but they are unstable and contain the seeds of dissolution.

Truth cannot be fashioned. Truth is one and the same; it is immutable.

Truth is above the power of death; it is omnipresent, eternal, and most glorious.

 

Illusions, errors, and lies are the daughters of Mara, and great power is given unto them to seduce the minds of men and lead them astray upon the path of evil.

The nature of delusions, errors, and lies is death; and wrong-doing is the way to perdition.

Delusions, errors, and lies are like huge, gaudy vessels, the rafters of which are rotten and worm eaten, and those who embark in them are fated to be shipwrecked.

There are many who say: "Come error, be thou my guide," and when they are caught in the meshes of selfishness, lust, and evil desires, misery is begot.

Yet does all life yearn for the truth and the truth only can cure our diseases and give peace to our unrest.

Truth is the essence of life, for truth endureth beyond the death of the body. Truth is eternal and will still remain even though heaven and earth shall pass away.

There are not different truths in the world, for truth is one and the same at all times and in every place.

Truth teaches us the noble eightfold path of righteousness, and it is a straight path easily found by the truth-loving. Happy are those who walk in it.

C.

THE PRAISE OF ALL THE BUDDHAS.

All the Buddhas are wonderful and glorious.
There is not their equal upon earth.
They reveal to us the path of life.
And we hail their appearance with pious reverence.

All the Buddhas teach the same truth.
They point out the path to those who go astray.

The Truth is our hope and comfort.
We gratefully accept its illimitable light.

All the Buddhas are one in essence,
Which is omnipresent in all modes of being,
Sanctifying the bonds that tie all souls together,
And we rest in its bliss as our final refuge.

 

( Courtesy Wikipedia)