Angels / Demons

OLLANTAY. Where, young fleet-foot, hast thou been? Hast thou the starry Ñusta seen? PIQUI CHAQUI. The Sun forbids such sacrilege ’Tis not for me to see the star. Dost thou, my master, fear no ill, Thine eyes upon the Inca’s child? OLLANTAY. In spite of all I swear to love That tender dove, that lovely star; My heart is as a lamb with her, And ever will her presence seek. PIQUI CHAQUI. Such thoughts are prompted by Supay; That evil being possesses thee. All round are beauteous girls to choose Before old age, and weakness come. If the great Inca knew thy plot And what thou seekest to attain, Thy head would fall by his command, Thy body would be quickly burnt.

PIQUI CHAQUI. But if Supay himself should come? OLLANTAY. I’d strike the evil spirit down. PIQUI CHAQUI. If thou shouldst only see his nose, Thou wouldst not speak as thou dost now. OLLANTAY. Now, Piqui Chaqui, speak the truth, Seek not evasion or deceit. Dost thou not already know, Of all the flowers in the field, Not one can equal my Princess? PIQUI CHAQUI. Still, my master, thou dost rave. I think I never saw thy love. Stay! was it her who yesterday Came forth with slow and faltering steps And sought a solitary path? If so, ’tis true she’s like the sun, The moon less beauteous than her face.

Having thus exhorted the disciples in many ways, the Blessed One said, “Disciples! formerly, too, men trusting to their own reason foolishly mistook for a refuge that which was no refuge, and becoming the prey of demons in a wilderness haunted by evil spirits, came to a disastrous end. Whilst those who adhered to the absolute, the certain, the right belief, found good fortune in that very desert.” And when he had thus spoken, he remained silent.

Then Anātha Piṇḍika, the house-lord, arose from his seat, and did obeisance to the Blessed One, and exalted him, and bowed down before him with clasped hands, and said, “Now, at least, O Lord! the foolishness of these disciples in breaking with the best refuge is made plain to us. But how those self-sufficient reasoners were destroyed in the demon-haunted desert, while those who held to the truth were saved, is hid from us, though it is known to you. May it please the Blessed One to make this matter known to us, as one causing the full moon to rise in the sky!”

Once upon a time in the country of Kāsi and the city of Benares, there was a king called Brahma-datta. The Bodisat was at that time born in a merchant’s family; and in due course he grew up, and went about trafficking with five hundred bullock-carts. Sometimes he travelled from east to west, and sometimes from west to east. At Benares too there was another young merchant, stupid, dull, and unskilful in resource.

Now there are five kinds of wildernesses, those that have become so by reason of thieves, of wild beasts, of the want of water, of the presence of demons, and of insufficiency of food; and of these this wilderness was demon-haunted and waterless. So the merchant placed great water-pots on his carts, and filled them with water, and then entered the desert, which was sixty leagues across.

But, when he had reached the middle of the desert, the demon who dwelt there thought, “I will make these fellows throw away the water they have brought; and having thus destroyed their power of resistance, I will eat them every one!”

So he created a beautiful carriage drawn by milk-white bulls; and attended by ten or twelve demons with bows and arrows, and swords and shields, in their hands, he went to meet the merchant, seated like a lord in his carriage,--but adorned with a garland of water-lilies, with his hair and clothes all wet, and his carriage wheels begrimed with mud. His attendants too went before and after him, with their hair and clothes all wet, decked with garlands of white lotuses, carrying bunches of red lotuses, eating the edible stalks of water-plants, and with drops of water and mud trickling from them.

As the demon saw him coming, he turned his carriage out of the way, and greeted him kindly, saying, “Where are you going to?”

And the merchant hurrying his carriage out of the way, made room for the carts to pass, and waiting beside him, said to the demon, “We have come thus far from Benares. And you I see with lotus wreaths, and water-lilies in your hands, eating lotus stalks, soiled with dirt, and dripping with water and mud. Pray, does it rain on the road you have come by, and are there tanks there covered with water-plants?”

No sooner had the demon heard that, than he answered; “What is this that you say? Yonder streak is green forest; from thence onwards the whole country abounds with water, it is always raining, the pools are full, and here and there are ponds covered with lotuses.” And as the carts passed by one after another, he asked, “Where are you going with these carts?” “To such and such a country,” was the reply. “And in this cart, and in this, what have you got?” said he. “Such and such things.” “This cart coming last comes along very heavily, what is there in this one?” “There’s water in that.”

“You have done right to bring water as far as this; but further on there’s no need of it. In front of you there’s plenty of water. Break the pots and pour away the water, and go on at your ease.” Then he added, “Do you go on, we have already delayed too long!” and himself went on a little, and as soon as he was out of sight, went back to the demons’ home.

And that foolish merchant, in his folly, accepted the demon’s word, and had his pots broken, and the water poured away (without saving even a cupful), and sent on the carts. And before them there was not the least water. And the men, having nothing to drink, became weary. And journeying on till sunset, they unyoked the waggons, and ranged them in a circle, and tied the oxen to the wheels. And there was neither water for the oxen, nor could the men cook their rice. And the worn-out men fell down here and there and slept.

And at the end of the night the demons came up from their demon city, and slew them all, both men and oxen, and ate their flesh, and went away leaving their bones behind. So on account of one foolish young merchant these all came to destruction, and their bones were scattered to all the points of the compass! And the five hundred carts stood there just as they had been loaded!

When he had reached the middle of the desert, that demon, in the same way as before, showed himself to the Bodisat as if he were coming from the opposite direction. The Bodisat knew him as soon as he saw him, thinking thus: “There is no water in this wilderness; its very name is the arid desert. This fellow is red-eyed and bold, and throws no shadow. The foolish merchant who went on before me will doubtless have been persuaded by this fellow to throw away all his water; will have been wearied out; and, with all his people, have fallen a prey. But he doesn’t know, methinks, how clever I am, and how fertile in resource.”

The demon went on a little way, and when he got out of sight, returned to his demon city. When the demons were gone, his men said to the Bodisat, “Sir! those men told us that yonder was the beginning of the green forest, and from there onwards it was always raining. They had all kinds of lotuses with them in garlands and branches, and were chewing the edible lotus-stalks; their clothes and hair were all wet, and they came dripping with water. Let us throw away the water, and go on quickly with light carts!”

“These fellows are not men, they are demons! They must have come to make us throw away our water with the hope of destroying us in our weakness. The foolish young merchant who went on before us had no power of resource. No doubt he has let himself be persuaded to throw away his supply of water, and has fallen a prey to those fellows. His waggons will be standing there just as they were loaded. We shall find them to-day. Go on as quickly as you can, and don’t throw away a single half-pint of water!”

And when he had told this story, the Teacher added, “Thus, O householder, long ago those who relied on their own reason came to destruction, while those who held to the truth escaped the hands of the demons, went whither they had wished to go, and got back again to their own place.” And it was when he had become a Buddha that he uttered the following verse belonging to this lesson on Holding to the Truth; and thus uniting the two stories, he said--

Thus the Blessed One taught those disciples the lesson regarding truth. “Life according to the Truth confers the three happy conditions of existence here below, and the six joys of the Brahmalokas in the heaven of delight, and finally leads to the attainment of Arahatship; but life according to the Untrue leads to rebirth in the four hells and among the five lowest grades of man.” He also proclaimed the Four Truths in sixteen ways. And at the end of the discourse on the Truths all those five hundred disciples were established in the Fruit of Conversion.

The Teacher having finished the discourse, and told the double narrative, established the connexion, and summed up the Jātaka by concluding, “The foolish young merchant of that time was Devadatta, his men were Devadatta’s followers. The wise young merchant’s men were the attendants of the Buddha, and the wise young merchant was I myself.”

Once upon a time, when Brahma-datta was reigning in Benares, in the country of Kāsi, the future Buddha was born in a merchant’s family; and when he grew up, he went about trafficking with five hundred carts.

Thus harbouring hatred against the Bodisat, he brought about on that very spot his own destruction. This was the first time that Devadatta harboured hatred against the Bodisat. But the Bodisat gave gifts, and did other good acts, and passed away according to his deeds. It was when the Buddha had finished this discourse, that he, as Buddha, uttered the following verse--

And when the Teacher had told the double story, he made the connexion, and summed up the Jātaka by concluding, “The then foolish dealer was Devadatta, but the wise dealer was I myself.”

Long ago, when Brahma-datta was reigning in Benares, in the land of Kāsi, the Bodisat was born in a treasurer’s family; and when he grew up he received the post of treasurer, and was called Chullaka. And he was wise and skilful, and understood all omens. One day as he was going to attend upon the king he saw a dead mouse lying on the road; and considering the state of the stars at the time, he said, “A young fellow with eyes in his head might, by picking this thing up, start a trade and support a wife.”

Long ago, Brahma-datta was king in Benares, in the land of Kāsi. At that time our Bodisat was his Valuer. He valued both horses, elephants, or things of that kind; and jewelry, gold, or things of that kind; and having done so, he used to have the proper price for the goods given to the owners thereof.

Long ago Brahma-datta was king in Benares, in the country of Kāsi. And the Bodisat of that time assumed re-existence in the womb of his chief queen; and on the day on which they chose a name for him, they gave him the name of Prince Mahiŋsāsa. And when he could run to and fro, and get about by himself, another son was born, whom they called the Moon Prince.

Now Sun Prince went to the pond, and stepped down into it without any hesitation. Then the demon seized him, and demanded of him: “Do you know what is of divine nature?” “Oh, yes! They call the Sun, and the Moon, Gods,” was the reply.

But the Bodisat, when he found that he was so long in coming, sent the Moon Prince. Him, too, the demon seized and asked him as before: “Do you know what is of divine nature?” “Yes, I do. The far-spreading sky is called divine.” “You then don’t know what is divine,” said he; and he took him, too, and put him in the same place.

But when the demon saw that the Bodisat was not going down into the water, he took to himself the form of a woodman, and said to the Bodisat:

“Hallo, my friend! you seem tired with your journey. Why don’t you get down into the lake there; and have a bath, and drink, and eat the edible stalks of the lotus plants, and pick the flowers, and so go on your way at your ease?” And as soon as the Bodisat saw him, he knew that he was the demon, and he said, “It is you who have seized my brothers!” “Yes, it is I,” said he. “What for, then?” “I have been granted all those who go down into this pond.” “What? All!” “Well; all save those who know what beings are divine. The rest are my prey.” “But have you then any need of divine beings?” “Yes, certainly.” “If it be so, I will tell you who are divine.” “Speak on then; and I shall get to know who have the attributes which are divine.”

“I both know, O Demon, what divinity is, and I walk according to it. It is on that boy’s account that we came to this forest: for it was for him that his mother begged the kingdom from our father, and our father being unwilling to grant that, sent us away to live in the forest, that we might be safe from danger. The lad himself came all the way along with us. Were I to say, ‘An ogre has eaten him in the wilderness,’ no one would believe it. Therefore it is that I, to avoid all blame, have told you to bring him.” “Verily thou hast spoken well, O Teacher. Thou not only knowest what divinity is, but hast acted as a divinity would.”

Long ago, in Mithilā, in the land of Videha, there was a king named Makhā Deva, a righteous man, and ruling in righteousness. Eighty-four thousand years he was a prince, as many he shared in the government, and as many he was sovereign. As such he had lived a long, long time, when one day he said to his barber, “My good barber, whenever you find grey hairs on my head, let me know.”

So he tore it out with golden pincers, and placed it in the hand of the king. There were then eighty-four thousand years of the lifetime allotted to the king still to elapse. But, nevertheless, as he looked upon the grey hair he was deeply agitated, as if the King of Death had come nigh unto him, or as if he found himself inside a house on fire. And he thought, “O foolish Makhā Deva! though grey hairs have come upon you, you yet have not been able to get rid of the frailties and passions which deprave men’s hearts!”

Then he gave to the barber a grant of a village whose revenue amounted to a hundred thousand. And he sent for his eldest son, and said to him, “My son! grey hairs have appeared on my head. I am become an old man. I have done with all human hopes; now I will seek heavenly things. It is time for me to abandon the world. Do you assume the sovereignty. I will embrace the religious life, and, dwelling in the garden called Makhā Deva’s Mango-park, I will train myself in the characteristics of those who are subdued in heart.”

Having thus spoken, he laid down his sovranty that very day, and became a hermit; and living in the Mango-grove of Makhā Deva, of which he had spoken, he spent eighty-four thousand years in practising perfect goodwill towards all beings, and in constant devotion to meditation. And after he died he was born again in the Brahma heaven; and when his allotted time there was exhausted, he became in Mithilā a king called Nimi, and reunited his scattered family. And after that he became a hermit in that same Mango-grove, and practised perfect goodwill towards all beings, and again returned to the Brahma heaven. * * * * *

The Teacher, having thus discoursed on the subject that not then only, but formerly too, the Successor of the Buddhas had abandoned the world, proclaimed the Four Truths. Some entered the First Stage of the Path to Nirvāna, some the Second, some the Third. And when the Blessed One had thus told the double story, he established the connexion, and summed up the Jātaka as follows: “The barber of that time was Ānanda, the prince was Rāhula, but Makhā Deva the king was I myself.”

The Happy Life “He whom others guard not,” etc.--This the Teacher told while at the Anūpiya Mango-grove, near the town of that name, about the Elder named Bhaddiya the Happy-minded. Bhaddiya the Happy-minded took the vows when the six young noblemen did so together with Upāli. Of these, Bhaddiya and Kimbila and Bhagu and Upāli became Arahats, Ānanda entered the First Stage of the Road to Nirvāna, Anuruddha attained to the Knowledge of the Past and the Present and the Future, and Devadatta acquired the power of Deep Meditation. The story of the six young noblemen, up to the events at Anūpiya, will be related in the Khaṇḍahāla Jātaka.

Long ago, when Brahma-datta was reigning in Benares, the Bodisat became a wealthy Brāhman of the north-west country. And perceiving the evils of worldly lusts, and the advantages of the religious life, he abandoned the world, and went to the Himālaya region, and adopted the life of a hermit, and practised the Eight Attainments. And the number of his disciples increased greatly, until he was attended by five hundred ascetics.

When the king had listened to this discourse, he was satisfied again; and taking leave, he returned to the palace. And the disciple, too, took his leave, and returned to the Himālaya region. But the Bodisat dwelt there in continued meditation till he died, and he was then reborn in the Brahma heaven. * * * * *

The Story of ‘Beauty.’ “The advantage is to the good.”--This the Master told while at the Bambu-grove near Rājagaha, about Devadatta. For on one occasion, when Devadatta asked for the Five Rules, and could not get what he wanted, he made a schism in the Order, and taking four hundred of the mendicants with him, went and dwelt at the rock called Gayā-sīsa.

Afterwards the minds of these mendicants became open to conviction. And the Master, knowing it, said to his two chief disciples, “Sāriputta! those five hundred pupils of yours adopted the heresy of Devadatta, and went away with him, but now their minds have become open to conviction. Do you go there with a number of the brethren, and preach to them, and instruct them in the Fruits of the Path of Holiness, and bring them back with you!”

They went, and preached to them, and instructed them in the Fruits, and the next day at dawn returned to the Bambu Grove, bringing those mendicants with them. And as Sāriputta on his return was standing by, after paying his respects to the Blessed One, the mendicants exalted him, saying to the Blessed One, “Lord! how excellent appears our elder brother, the Minister of Righteousness, returning with five hundred disciples as his retinue, whereas Devadatta is now without any followers at all!”

“Not only now, O mendicants! has Sāriputta come in glory, surrounded by the assembly of his brethren; in a former birth, also, he did the same. And not now only has Devadatta been deprived of his following; in a former birth also he was the same.”

Thus the Master gave them this lesson in virtue in illustration of what he had said, “Not only now, O mendicants! has Sāriputta come in glory, surrounded by the assembly of his brethren; in a former birth, also, he did the same. And not now only has Devadatta been deprived of his following; in a former birth also he was the same.” And he united the two stories, and made the connexion, and summed up the Jātaka as follows: “Then ‘Brownie’ was Devadatta, and his attendants Devadatta’s attendants. ’Beauty’ was Sāriputta, and his attendants the followers of the Buddha. The mother was the mother of Rāhula, but the father was I myself.”

“Very well, then; I will get you ordained,” said he. And giving a donation at a great cost, he took her, with a numerous retinue, to the nunnery, and had her admitted into the Order of Nuns--but among those who sided with Devadatta. And she was overjoyed that her wish had been fulfilled, and that she had become a nun.

Then the nuns led her to Devadatta, and asked him, “Sir! this young lady, after with difficulty gaining her husband’s consent, was received into the Order. But now it is evident that she is with child; and we know not whether she became so when she was a laywoman or when she was a nun. What shall we do now?”

Devadatta, not being a Buddha, and having no forbearance, kindness, or compassion, thought thus: “If people can say, ‘A nun of Devadatta’s side is carrying about a child in her womb, and Devadatta condones it,’ I shall be disgraced. I must unfrock this woman!” And without any inquiry, he answered with eagerness, “Go and expel this woman from the Order!”--just as if he were rushing forwards to roll away a mere piece of stone!

When they heard his decision, they arose, and bowed to him, and returned to the nunnery. But the young girl said to the nuns, “Ladies! the Elder, Devadatta, is not the Buddha. Not under him did I enter the religious life, but under the Buddha himself, who is supreme among men. What I obtained with such difficulty, O, deprive me not of that! Take me, I pray you, and go to the Master himself at Jetavana!”

The Teacher thought, “Although the child was conceived when she was still in the world, yet the heretics will have an opportunity of saying, ‘The mendicant Gautama has accepted a nun expelled by Devadatta!’ Therefore, to prevent such talk, this case ought to be heard in the presence of the king and his ministers.”

Now one day the Successor of the Buddhas, when he had returned from his rounds and taken his meal, exhorted the brethren, and entered his apartment. The brethren, after hearing the exhortation, spent the day either in their day-rooms or night-rooms, and then met together at eventide for religious conversation. And, as they sat there, they exalted the character of the Buddha, saying, “Brethren, the Elder Prince Kassapa, and the Lady his mother, were nearly ruined by Devadatta, through his not being a Buddha, and having no forbearance or kindness; but the Supreme Buddha, being the King of Righteousness, and being perfect in kindness and forbearance and compassion, became the means of salvation to them both!”

Long ago, when Brahma-datta was reigning in Benares, the Bodisat came to life as a deer. When he was born he was of a golden colour; his eyes were like round jewels, his horns were white as silver, his mouth was red as a cluster of kamala flowers, his hoofs were bright and hard as lacquer-work, his tail as fine as the tail of a Tibetan ox, and his body as large in size as a foal’s.

The Master, having finished the discourse in illustration of his saying, “Not only now was I the protector of the nun and of Kassapa the Prince; in a former birth I was the same,” he fully expounded the Four Truths. And when he had told the double story, he made the connexion, and summed up the Jātaka by saying, “He who was then the Monkey Deer was Devadatta, his herd was Devadatta’s following, the roe was the nun, her son was Kassapa the Prince, the king was Ānanda, but the royal Banyan Deer was I myself.”

Once upon a time BRAHMA-DATTA, the king of Benares, had a gardener named SANJAYA. Now a swift antelope who had come to the garden took to flight as soon as it saw Sanjaya. But Sanjaya did not frighten it away; and when it had come again and again it began to walk about in the garden. And day by day the gardener used to pluck the various fruits and flowers in the garden, and take them away to the king.

Once upon a time, when Brahma-datta was reigning in Benares, the Bodisat became a stag, and lived in the forest, with a herd for his retinue.

Once upon a time, when Brahma-datta was reigning in Benares, a Brāhman, a world-famous teacher, accomplished in the Three Vedas, had a goat brought, with the intention of giving the Feast of the Dead, and said to his pupils:

This was formerly, they say, a densely-wooded forest. And in its lake there was a water-demon, who used to eat whomsoever went down into the water. At that time the Bodisat was a monkey-king, in size like the fawn of a red deer; and attended by a troop of monkeys about eighty thousand in number, he lived in that forest, preserving them from harm.

Now he exhorted the troop of monkeys, saying, “My children! in this forest there are poisonous trees, and pools haunted by demons. When you are going to eat fruits of any kind you have not eaten before, or to drink water you have not drunk before, ask me about it.”

“It is well, my children!” said the Bodisat; and fixing his attention on the foot-marks close round the edge of the pond, he saw that they went down, but never came up. Then he knew that it was assuredly haunted by demons, and said, “You have done well, my children, not to have drunk the water. This pond is haunted!”

But when the demon of the water saw that they were not going down into it, he assumed the horrible shape of a blue-bellied, pale-faced, red-handed, red-footed creature, and came splashing out through the water, and cried out, “Why do you sit still here? Go down and drink the water!” But the Bodisat asked him, “Are you the water-demon who haunts this spot?” “Yes! I am he!” was the reply. “Have you received power over all who go down into the pool?” “Yes, indeed! I carry off even a bird when it comes down, and I let no one off. You too I will devour, one and all!” “We shall not allow you to eat us.” “Well, then! drink away!” “Yes! we shall drink the water too, but we shall not fall into your hands.” “How, then, will you get at the water?”

It was when the Teacher as Buddha had recalled this circumstance that he uttered the first half of the following stanza: “I saw the marks of feet that had gone down, I saw no marks of feet that had returned.” (But then he said to the monkeys)-- “We’ll drink the water through a reed,” (And turning to the demon, he added)-- “And yet I’ll not become your prey!”

Thus the water-demon got not one of them into his power on their drinking the water, and he returned in sorrow to his own place. But the Bodisat and his troop went back again to the forest. * * * * *

When the Teacher, having finished this discourse in illustration of his words (“The hollowness of those canes, mendicants, is a former command of mine”), he made the connexion, and summed up the Jātaka, saying: “He who was then the water-demon was Devadatta; the eighty thousand monkeys were the Buddha’s retinue; but the monkey king, clever in resource, was I myself.”

“The Kurunga knows full well,” etc.--This the teacher told while at Jetavana about Devadatta. For once when the monks had assembled in the lecture hall, they sat talking of Devadatta’s wickedness, saying, “Brother Devadatta has suborned archers, and hurled down a rock, and sent forth Dhanapālaka the elephant; in every possible way he goes about to slay the Sage.”

The Teacher came, and sat down on the seat reserved for him, and asked, “What is it, then, Mendicants, you are sitting here talking about?” “Lord! we were talking about the wickedness of Devadatta in going about to slay you.”

The Teacher answered, “Not now only, O mendicants, has Devadatta gone about to slay me; formerly, too, he did the same, and was unsuccessful in his endeavour.” And he told a tale. * * * * *

Once upon a time, when Brahma-datta was reigning in Benares, the Bodisat became A KURUNGA ANTELOPE and lived in his forest home, feeding on fruits. And at one time he was eating the Sepaṇṇi fruit on a heavily-laden Sepaṇṇi tree.

When the Teacher had finished this discourse in illustration of what he had said (“Not now only, O mendicants, does Devadatta go about to slay me; formerly, also, he did the same”), he made the connexion, and summed up the Jātaka as follows: “He who was then the hunter was Devadatta, but the Kurunga Antelope was I myself.”

Once upon a time, when Brahma-datta was reigning in Benares, the Bodisat, in consequence of an act which would have that effect, came to life as a dog, and lived in a great cemetery attended by a troop of several hundred dogs.

Long ago, when Brahma-datta was reigning in Benares, the Bodisat was born into the family of a thoroughbred Bhoja horse, and became the state charger of the king of Benares. He fed out of a priceless golden dish on the most delicious fine old rice; and he stood in a fragrant perfumed stall, hung round with curtains embroidered with flowers, covered with a canopy painted with golden stars, decked with garlands of sweet-smelling flowers, and furnished with a lamp of fragrant oil that was never extinguished.

Long ago, when Brahma-datta was reigning in Benares, seven kings, as before, surrounded the city. Then a warrior who fought from a chariot harnessed two Sindh horses, who were brothers, to his chariot, issued from the city, broke through six lines and took six kings prisoners.

Once upon a time Brahma-datta was reigning in Benares, and the Bodisat was his adviser in things spiritual and temporal.

“By listening first to robbers’ talk,” etc.--This the Master told when at Jetavana, about Devadatta. Devadatta became well-pleasing to Prince Ajāta-sattu, and had great gain and honour. The Prince had a monastery built for him at Gayā-sīsa, and five hundred vessels-full of food made of the finest old fragment-rice provided for him daily. Through this patronage Devadatta’s following increased greatly, and he lived with his disciples in that monastery.

At that time there were two friends living at Rājagaha; and one of them took the vows under the Teacher, the other under Devadatta. And they used to meet in different places, or go to the monasteries to see one another.

Now one day Devadatta’s adherent said to the other, “Brother! why do you go daily with toil and trouble to beg your food? Ever since Devadatta was settled at the Gayā-sīsa Monastery he is provided with the best of things to eat. That’s the best way to manage. Why do you make labour for yourself? Wouldn’t it be much better for you to come in the morning to Gayā-sīsa and enjoy really good food--drinking our excellent gruel, and eating from the eighteen kinds of dishes we get?”

When he had been pressed again and again, he became willing to go; and thenceforward he used to go to Gayā-sīsa and take his meal, and return early to the Bambu Grove. But it was impossible to keep it secret for ever; and before long it was noised abroad that he went to Gayā-sīsa and partook of the food provided for Devadatta. So his friends asked him if that were true. “Who has said such a thing?” said he. “Such and such a one,” was the reply.

“Well, it is true, brethren, that I go and take my meals at Gayā-sīsa; but it is not Devadatta, it is the others who give me to eat.”

“Brother! Devadatta is a bitter enemy of the Buddhas. The wicked fellow has curried favour with Ajāta-sattu, and won over his patronage by his wickedness. Yet you, who took the vows under a system so well able to lead you to Nirvāna, now partake of food procured for Devadatta by his wickedness. Come! we must take you before the Master!” So saying, they brought him to the Lecture Hall.

“Yes, Lord,” said they. “This brother took the vows under you, and yet he partakes of the food which Devadatta’s wickedness has earned for him.” The Teacher asked him whether this was true what they said. “Lord!” replied he, “it is not Devadatta, but the others who give me food: that I do eat.”

Then said the Teacher, “O monk, make no excuse for it. Devadatta is a sinful, wicked man. How then can you, who took the vows here, eat Devadatta’s bread, even while devoting yourself to my religion? Yet you always, even when right in those whom you honoured, used to follow also any one you met.” And he told a tale. * * * * *

Long ago, when Brahma-datta was reigning in Benares, the Bodisat became his minister. At that time the king had a state elephant, named ‘Girly-face,’ who was good and gentle, and would hurt nobody.

When the Teacher came there, he asked them what they were discussing, and they told him. Then he said, “O mendicants! who should now bear the yoke that I can bear? For even when an animal in a former birth I could find no one to drag the weight I dragged.” And he told a tale. * * * * * Long ago, when Brahma-datta was reigning in Benares, the Bodisat returned to life as a bull.

Long ago, when Brahma-datta was reigning in Benares, the Bodisat came to life in the house of a landed proprietor in a certain village as an ox, with the name of ’Big-red.’ And he had a younger brother called ‘Little-red.’ And all the carting work in the household was carried on by means of the two brothers.

At that time the Bodisat (just as he who is now Sakka was once born in the village of Macala in Magadha) was born in that very village as a nobleman’s son. On the naming-day they gave him the name of Prince Magha, and when he grew up he was known as ‘Magha the young Brāhman.’

Then the builder said, “Sirs! what is this you are saying? Save the heavenly world of the Brahma-angels, there is no place where womankind is not. Accept the pinnacle; and so will our work be accomplished!”

Such praise did he receive; and at the end of his life he was born again in the heaven of the Great Thirty Three, as Sakka, the king of the Gods, and there, too, his friends were born again. * * * * * At that time there were Titans dwelling in the heaven of the Great Thirty Three. And Sakka said, “What is the good to us of a kingdom shared by others?”

They fell just upon “The abode of the Titans;” a place so called, upon the lowest level of Sineru, equal in size to the Tāvatiŋsa heaven. In it there is a tree, like the coral-tree in Sakka’s heaven, which stands during a kalpa, and is called “The variegated Trumpet-Flower Tree.”

When they saw the Trumpet-Flower Tree in bloom, they knew, “This is not our heaven, for in heaven the Coral-Tree blossoms.” Then they said, “That old Sakka has made us drunk, and thrown us into the great deep, and taken our heavenly city!” Then they made resolve, “We’ll war against him, and win our heavenly city back again!” And they swarmed up the perpendicular sides of Sineru like so many ants!

When Sakka heard the cry, “The Titans are up!” he went down the great deep to meet them, and fought with them from the sky. But he was worsted in the fight, and began to flee away along the summit of the southern vault of heaven in his famous Chariot of Glory a hundred and fifty leagues in length.

Now as his chariot went rapidly down the great deep, it passed along the Silk Cotton Tree Forest, and along its route the silk cotton trees were cut down one after another like mere palmyra palms, and fell into the great deep. And as the young ones of the Wingéd Creatures tumbled over and over into the great deep, they burst forth into mighty cries. And Sakka asked his charioteer, Mātali-- “What noise is this, friend Mātali? How pathetic is that cry!”

And Sakka re-entered his heavenly city, and stood in the midst thereof, surrounded by the hosts of angels from both the heavens. And that moment the Palace of Glory burst through the earth and rose up a thousand leagues in height. And it was because it arose at the end of this glorious victory that it received the name of the Palace of Glory. Then Sakka placed guards in five places, to prevent the Titans coming up again,--in respect of which it has been said--

When Sakka had thus placed the guards, and was enjoying the happiness of heaven as king of the angels, Piety changed her form of existence, and was reborn as one of his attendants. And in consequence of her gift of the pinnacle there arose for her a jewelled hall of state under the name of ‘Piety,’ where Sakka sat as king of the angels, on a throne of gold under a white canopy of state, and performed his duties towards the angels and towards men.

But since Well-born had done no act of virtue, she was reborn as a female crane in a pool in a certain forest. And Sakka said to himself, “There’s no sign of Well-born. I wonder where she can have got to!” And he considered the matter till he discovered her.

A few days afterwards, Sakka went to see whether she was able to keep good, and he lay on his back before her in the form of a fish. Thinking it was dead, the crane seized it by the head. The fish wagged its tail. “It’s alive, I think!” exclaimed she, and let it go. “Good! Good!” said Sakka, “You are well able to keep the Commandments.” And he went away.

When she again changed her form of existence, she was born in a potter’s household in Benares. Sakka, as before, found out where she was, and filled a cart with golden cucumbers, and seated himself in the middle of the village in the form of an old woman, calling out, “Buy my cucumbers! Buy my cucumbers!” The people came up and asked for them. “I sell,” said she, “only to those who live a life of righteousness. Do you live such a life?” “We don’t know anything about righteousness. Hand them over for money!” said they. “I want no money; I will only give to the righteous,” was her reply. “This must be some mad woman!” said they, and left her.

When she was grown up, her father assembled the Titans together that his daughter might choose for a husband the one she liked best. Sakka was looking about as before to find out where she was; and when he discovered it, he took the form of a Titan, and went to the place,--thinking that when choosing a husband, she might take him.

Then they led Well-born in fine array to the meeting place, and told her to choose whomsoever she liked as her husband. And when she began to look at them, she saw Sakka, and by reason of her love to him in the former birth, she was moved to say, “This one is my husband,” and so chose him.

When the Teacher had finished this discourse, he reproved the monk, saying, “Thus, O monk, formerly wise men, though they held rule in heaven, offered up their lives rather than destroy life; but you, though you have taken the vows according to so saving a faith, have drunk unstrained water with living creatures in it!” And he made the connexion, and summed up the Jātaka, by saying, “He who at that time was Mātali the charioteer was Ānanda, but Sakka was I myself.”

Long ago, when Brahma-datta was reigning in Benares, the Bodisat came to life as a quail; and lived in a forest at the head of a flock many thousands in number.

When the Master had finished this lesson in virtue, in illustration of what he had said (“Thus, O king, there ought to be no such thing as quarrelling among relatives; for quarrels are the root of misfortune”), he made the connexion, and summed up the Jātaka, “He who at that time was the foolish quail was Devadatta, but the wise quail was I myself.”

Then the Master said, “O Brother! this woman does you harm. In a former birth also you were just being killed through her when I came up and saved you.” And he told a tale. * * * * * Once upon a time, when Brahma-datta was reigning in Benāres, the Bodisat became his private chaplain.

Long ago, when Brahma-datta was reigning in Benāres, the Bodisat came to life again as a bird, and lived a forest life, attended by a flock of birds, near a lofty tree, with branches forking out on every side.

Long ago, when Brahma-datta was reigning in Benāres, the Bodisat came to life again as a landowner. He had a friend, also a landowner, who was old himself, but whose wife was young. She had a son by him; and he said to himself--

Getting no help from him, she went to the four Archangels, the guardians of the world. And when she was refused by them in the same manner, she went to Sakka, the King of the Gods, and telling him the whole matter, besought him urgently, saying, “O God! deprived of my dwelling-place, I wander about without a shelter, leading my children by the hand. Let me in your graciousness be given some place where I may dwell!”

“People have had eighteen thousands of thousands of money from the Merchant on giving him writings. Now take the form of his manager, and without telling anybody, take those writings, surround yourself with so many young ogres, go to their houses with the writings in one hand, and a receipt in the other, and stand in the centre of the house and frighten them with your demon power, and say, ‘This is the record of your debt. Our Merchant said nothing to you in byegone days; but now he is fallen into poverty. Pay back the moneys which you had from him.’ Thus, by displaying your demon power, recover all those thousands of gold, and pour them into the Merchant’s empty treasury. There was other wealth of his buried in the bank of the river Aciravatī, which, when the river-bank was broken, was washed away to the sea. Bring that back by your power, and pour it into his treasury. In such and such a place, too, there is another treasure of the sum of eighteen thousands of thousands, which has no owner. That too bring, and pour it into his empty treasury. When you have undergone this punishment of refilling his empty treasury with these fifty-four thousands of thousands, you may ask the Merchant to forgive you.”

“It is I, great Merchant! the blind and foolish Fairy who used to dwell in the turret over your fourth gate. In my great and dense stupidity, and knowing not the merits of the Buddha, I formerly said something to you; and that fault I beg you to pardon. For according to the word of Sakka, the King of the Gods, I have performed the punishment of filling your empty treasury with fifty-four thousands of thousands I have brought--the eighteen thousands of thousands owing to you which I have recovered, the eighteen thousands of thousands lost in the sea, and eighteen thousands of thousands of owner-less money in such and such a place. The money you spent on the monastery at Jetavana is now all restored. I am in misery so long as I am allowed no place to dwell in. Keep not in your mind the thing I did in my ignorance, but pardon me, O great Merchant!”

Long ago, when Brahma-datta was reigning in Benāres, the Bodisat came to life in the family of the Treasurer of Benāres, and was brought up in much luxury, like a prince. And he arrived in due course at years of discretion; and even when he was but sixteen years old he had gained the mastery over all branches of knowledge.

And when the Brahmans denied this, the Buddha asked:

And now from the midst of heaven there descended two streams of pure water, one warm, the other cold, and baptized his head, causing refreshment to his body. And now he is placed in the precious palace hall, a jewelled couch for him to sleep upon, and the heavenly kings with their golden flowery hands hold fast the four feet of the bed. Meanwhile the Devas in space, seizing their jewelled canopies, attending, raise in responsive harmony their heavenly songs, to encourage him to accomplish his perfect purpose.

At this time the king addressed the twice-born, "If it be as you say, with respect to these miraculous signs, that they indicate such consequences, then no such case has happened with former kings, nor down to our time has such a thing occurred." The Brahman addressed the king thus, "Say not so; for it is not right; for with regard to renown and wisdom, personal celebrity, and worldly substance, these four things indeed are not to be considered according to precedent or subsequence; but whatever is produced according to nature, such things are liable to the law of cause and effect: but now whilst I recount some parallels let the king attentively listen:--Bhrigu, Angira, these two of Rishi family, having passed many years apart from men, each begat an excellently endowed son; Brihaspati with Sukra, skilful in making royal treatises, not derived from former families (or tribes); Sârasvata, the Rishi, whose works have long disappeared, begat a son, Po-lo-sa, who compiled illustrious Sûtras and Shâstras; that which now we know and see, is not therefore dependent on previous connection; Vyâsa, the Rishi, the author of numerous treatises, after his death had among his descendants Poh-mi (Vâlmîki), who extensively collected Gâthâ sections; Atri, the Rishi, not understanding the sectional treatise on medicine, afterwards begat Âtreya, who was able to control diseases; the twice-born Rishi Kusi (Kusika), not occupied with heretical treatises, afterwards begat Kia-ti-na-râga, who thoroughly understood heretical systems; the sugar-cane monarch, who began his line, could not restrain the tide of the sea, but Sagara-râga, his descendant, who begat a thousand royal sons, he could control the tide of the great sea so that it should come no further. Ganaka, the Rishi, without a teacher acquired power of abstraction. All these, who obtained such renown, acquired powers of themselves; those distinguished before, were afterwards forgotten; those before forgotten, became afterwards distinguished; kings like these and god-like Rishis have no need of family inheritance, and therefore the world need not regard those going before or following. So, mighty king! is it with you: you should experience true joy of heart, and because of this joy should banish forever doubt or anxiety." The king, hearing the words of the seer, was glad, and offered him increased gifts.

And now near the spot within the garden, there was a Rishi, leading the life of an ascetic; his name was Asita, wonderfully skilful in the interpretation of signs; he approached the gate of the palace; the king beholding him exclaimed, "This is none other but Brahmadeva, himself enduring penance from love of true religion, these two characteristics so plainly visible as marks of his austerities." Then the king was much rejoiced; and forthwith he invited him within the palace, and with reverence set before him entertainment, whilst he, entering the inner palace, rejoiced only in prospect of seeing the royal child.

Although surrounded by the crowd of court ladies, yet still he was as if in desert solitude; and now they place a preaching throne and pay him increased honor and religious reverence, as Antideva râga reverenced the priest Vasishtha. Then the king, addressing the Rishi, said: "Most fortunate am I, great Rishi! that you have condescended to come here to receive from me becoming gifts and reverence; I pray you therefore enter on your exhortation."

Thus requested and invited, the Rishi felt unutterable joy, and said, "All hail, ever victorious monarch! possessed of all noble, virtuous qualities, loving to meet the desires of those who seek, nobly generous in honoring the true law, conspicuous as a race for wisdom and humanity, with humble mind you pay me homage, as you are bound. Because of your righteous deeds in former lives, now are manifested these excellent fruits; listen to me, then, whilst I declare the reason of the present meeting. As I was coming on the sun's way, I heard the Devas in space declare that the king had born to him a royal son, who would arrive at perfect intelligence; moreover I beheld such other portents, as have constrained me now to seek your presence; desiring to see the Sâkya monarch who will erect the standard of the true law."

At this time Suddhodana râga, seeing the excellent marks (predictive signs) of his son, and, moreover, hearing the words of Asita, certifying that which would surely happen, was greatly affected with reverence to the child: he redoubled measures for its protection, and was filled with constant thought; moreover, he issued decrees through the empire, to liberate all captives in prison, according to the custom when a royal son was born, giving the usual largess, in agreement with the directions of the Sacred Books, and extending his gifts to all; or, all these things he did completely. When the child was ten days old, his father's mind being now quite tranquil, he announced a sacrifice to all the gods, and prepared to give liberal offerings to all the religious bodies; Srâmanas and Brahmanas invoked by their prayers a blessing from the gods, whilst he bestowed gifts on the royal kinspeople and the ministers and the poor within the country; the women who dwelt in the city or the villages, all those who needed cattle or horses or elephants or money, each, according to his necessities, was liberally supplied. Then, selecting by divination a lucky time, they took the child back to his own palace, with a double-feeding white-pure-tooth, carried in a richly-adorned chariot (cradle), with ornaments of every kind and color round his neck; shining with beauty, exceedingly resplendent with unguents. The queen embracing him in her arms, going around, worshipped the heavenly spirits. Afterwards she remounted her precious chariot, surrounded by her waiting women; the king, with his ministers and people, and all the crowd of attendants, leading the way and following, even as the ruler of heaven, Sakra, is surrounded by crowds of Devas; as Mahesvara, when suddenly his six-faced child was born; arranging every kind of present, gave gifts, and asked for blessings; so now the king, when his royal son was born, made all his arrangements in like manner. So Vaisravana, the heavenly king, when Nalakûvara was born, surrounded by a concourse of Devas, was filled with joy and much gladness; so the king, now the royal prince was born, in the kingdom of Kapila, his people and all his subjects were likewise filled with joy.

And now he was brought to learn the useful arts, when lo! once instructed he surpassed his teachers. His father, the king, seeing his exceeding talent, and his deep purpose to have done with the world and its allurements, began to inquire as to the names of those in his tribe who were renowned for elegance and refinement. Elegant and graceful, and a lovely maiden, was she whom they called Yasodharâ; in every way fitting to become a consort for the prince, and to allure by pleasant wiles his heart. The prince with a mind so far removed from the world, with qualities so distinguished, and with so charming an appearance, like the elder son of Brahmadeva, Sanatkumâra (She-na Kiu-ma-lo); the virtuous damsel, lovely and refined, gentle and subdued in manner; majestic like the queen of heaven, constant ever, cheerful night and day, establishing the palace in purity and quiet, full of dignity and exceeding grace, like a lofty hill rising up in space; or as a white autumn cloud; warm or cool according to the season; choosing a proper dwelling according to the year, surrounded by a return of singing women, who join their voices in harmonious heavenly concord, without any jarring or unpleasant sound, exciting in the hearers forgetfulness of worldly cares. As the heavenly Gandharvas of themselves, in their beauteous palaces, cause the singing women to raise heavenly strains, the sounds of which and their beauty ravish both eyes and heart--so Bodhisattva dwelt in his lofty palace, with music such as this. The king, his father, for the prince's sake, dwelt purely in his palace, practising every virtue; delighting in the teaching of the true law, he put away from him every evil companion, that his heart might not be polluted by lust; regarding inordinate desire as poison, keeping his passion and his body in due control, destroying and repressing all trivial thoughts; desiring to enjoy virtuous conversation, loving instruction fit to subdue the hearts of men, aiming to accomplish the conversion of unbelievers; removing all schemes of opposition from whatever source they came by the enlightening power of his doctrine, aiming to save the entire world; thus he desired that the body of people should obtain rest; even as we desire to give peace to our children, so did he long to give rest to the world. He also attended to his religious duties, sacrificing by fire to all the spirits, with clasped hands adoring the moon, bathing his body in the waters of the Ganges; cleansing his heart in the waters of religion, performing his duties with no private aim, but regarding his child and the people at large; loving righteous conversation, righteous words with loving aim; loving words with no mixture of falsehood, true words imbued by love, and yet withal so modest and self-distrustful, unable on that account to speak as confident of truth; loving to all, and yet not loving the world; with no thought of selfishness or covetous desire: aiming to restrain the tongue and in quietness to find rest from wordy contentions, not seeking in the multitude of religious duties to condone for a worldly principle in action, but aiming to benefit the world by a liberal and unostentatious charity; the heart without any contentious thought, but resolved by goodness to subdue the contentious; desiring to mortify the passions, and to destroy every enemy of virtue; not multiplying coarse or unseemly words, but exhorting to virtue in the use of courteous language; full of sympathy and ready charity, pointing out and practising the way of mutual dependence; receiving and understanding the wisdom of spirits and Rishis; crushing and destroying every cruel and hateful thought. Thus his fame and virtue were widely renowned, and yet himself finally (or, forever) separate from the ties of the world, showing the ability of a master builder, laying a good foundation of virtue, an example for all the earth; so a man's heart composed and at rest, his limbs and all his members will also be at ease. And now the son of Suddhodana, and his virtuous wife Yasodharâ, as time went on, growing to full estate, their child Râhula was born; and then Suddhodana râga considered thus: "My son, the prince, having a son born to him, the affairs of the empire will be handed down in succession, and there will be no end to its righteous government; the prince having begotten a son, will love his son as I love him, and no longer think about leaving his home as an ascetic, but devote himself to the practice of virtue; I now have found complete rest of heart, like one just born to heavenly joys."

So the country-folk and the town-folk, hearing that the prince was coming forth, the well-to-do not waiting for their servants, those asleep and awake not mutually calling to one another, the six kinds of creatures not gathered together and penned, the money not collected and locked up, the doors and gates not fastened, all went pouring along the way on foot; the towers were filled, the mounds by the trees, the windows and the terraces along the streets; with bent body fearing to lift their eyes, carefully seeing that there was nothing about them to offend, those seated on high addressing those seated on the ground, those going on the road addressing those passing on high, the mind intent on one object alone; so that if a heavenly form had flown past, or a form entitled to highest respect, there would have been no distraction visible, so intent was the body and so immovable the limbs. And now beautiful as the opening lily, he advances towards the garden glades, wishing to accomplish the words of the holy prophet (Rishi). The prince, seeing the ways prepared and watered and the joyous holiday appearance of the people; seeing too the drapery and chariot, pure, bright, shining, his heart exulted greatly and rejoiced. The people (on their part) gazed at the prince, so beautifully adorned, with all his retinue, like an assembled company of kings gathered to see a heaven-born prince. And now a Deva-râga of the Pure abode, suddenly appears by the side of the road; his form changed into that of an old man, struggling for life, his heart weak and oppressed. The prince seeing the old man, filled with apprehension, asked his charioteer, "What kind of man is this? his head white and his shoulders bent, his eyes bleared and his body withered, holding a stick to support him along the way. Is his body suddenly dried up by the heat, or has he been born in this way?" The charioteer, his heart much embarrassed, scarcely dared to answer truly, till the pure-born (Deva) added his spiritual power, and caused him to frame a reply in true words: "His appearance changed, his vital powers decayed, filled with sorrow, with little pleasure, his spirits gone, his members nerveless, these are the indications of what is called 'old age.' This man was once a sucking child, brought up and nourished at his mother's breast, and as a youth full of sportive life, handsome, and in enjoyment of the five pleasures; as years passed on, his frame decaying, he is brought now to the waste of age."

The king hearing of his son's sadness urged his companions to induce him again to go abroad, and forthwith incited his ministers and attendants to decorate the gardens even more than before. The Deva then caused himself to appear as a sick man; struggling for life, he stood by the wayside, his body swollen and disfigured, sighing with deep-drawn groans; his hands and knees contracted and sore with disease, his tears flowing as he piteously muttered his petition. The prince asked his charioteer, "What sort of man, again, is this?"

The king, hearing once more of his son's return, asked anxiously the reason why, and in reply was told--"he saw the pain of sickness." The king, in fear, like one beside himself, roundly blamed the keepers of the way; his heart constrained, his lips spoke not; again he increased the crowd of music-women, the sounds of merriment twice louder than aforetime, if by these sounds and sights the prince might be gratified; and indulging worldly feelings, might not hate his home. Night and day the charm of melody increased, but his heart was still unmoved by it. The king himself then went forth to observe everything successively, and to make the gardens even yet more attractive, selecting with care the attendant women, that they might excel in every point of personal beauty; quick in wit and able to arrange matters well, fit to ensnare men by their winning looks; he placed additional keepers along the king's way, he strictly ordered every offensive sight to be removed, and earnestly exhorted the illustrious coachman, to look well and pick out the road as he went. And now that Deva of the Pure abode, again caused the appearance of a dead man; four persons carrying the corpse lifted it on high, and appeared (to be going on) in front of Bodhisattva; the surrounding people saw it not, but only Bodhisattva and the charioteer. Once more he asked, "What is this they carry? with streamers and flowers of every choice description, whilst the followers are overwhelmed with grief, tearing their hair and wailing piteously." And now the gods instructing the coachman, he replied and said, "This is a dead man: all his powers of body destroyed, life departed; his heart without thought, his intellect dispersed; his spirit gone, his form withered and decayed; stretched out as a dead log; family ties broken--all his friends who once loved him, clad in white cerements, now no longer delighting to behold him, remove him to lie in some hollow ditch tomb." The prince hearing the name of Death, his heart constrained by painful thoughts, he asked, "Is this the only dead man, or does the world contain like instances?" Replying thus he said, "All, everywhere, the same; he who begins his life must end it likewise; the strong and lusty and the middle-aged, having a body, cannot but decay and die." The prince was now harassed and perplexed in mind; his body bent upon the chariot leaning-board, with bated breath and struggling accents, stammered thus, "Oh worldly men! how fatally deluded! beholding everywhere the body brought to dust, yet everywhere the more carelessly living; the heart is neither lifeless wood nor stone, and yet it thinks not 'all is vanishing!'" Then turning, he directed his chariot to go back, and no longer waste his time in wandering. How could he, whilst in fear of instant death, go wandering here and there with lightened heart! The charioteer remembering the king's exhortation feared much nor dared go back; straightforward then he pressed his panting steeds, passed onward to the gardens, came to the groves and babbling streams of crystal water, the pleasant trees, spread out with gaudy verdure, the noble living things and varied beasts so wonderful, the flying creatures and their notes melodious; all charming and delightful to the eye and ear, even as the heavenly Nandavana.

On the prince entering the garden the women came around to pay him court; and to arouse in him thoughts frivolous; with ogling ways and deep design, each one setting herself off to best advantage; or joining together in harmonious concert, clapping their hands, or moving their feet in unison, or joining close, body to body, limb to limb; or indulging in smart repartees, and mutual smiles; or assuming a thoughtful saddened countenance, and so by sympathy to please the prince, and provoke in him a heart affected by love. But all the women beheld the prince, clouded in brow, and his god-like body not exhibiting its wonted signs of beauty; fair in bodily appearance, surpassingly lovely, all looked upwards as they gazed, as when we call upon the moon Deva to come; but all their subtle devices were ineffectual to move Bodhisattva's heart.

At last commingling together they join and look astonished and in fear, silent without a word. Then there was a Brahmaputra, whose name was called Udâyi (Yau-to-i). He, addressing the women, said, "Now all of you, so graceful and fair, see if you cannot by your combined power hit on some device; for beauty's power is not forever. Still it holds the world in bondage, by secret ways and lustful arts; but no such loveliness in all the world as yours, equal to that of heavenly nymphs; the gods beholding it would leave their queens, spirits and Rishis would be misled by it; why not then the prince, the son of an earthly king? why should not his feelings be aroused? This prince indeed, though he restrains his heart and holds it fixed, pure-minded, with virtue uncontaminated, not to be overcome by power of women; yet of old there was Sundarî (Su-to-li) able to destroy the great Rishi, and to lead him to indulge in love, and so degrade his boasted eminence; undergoing long penance, Gautama fell likewise by the arts of a heavenly queen; Shing-kü, a Rishi putra, practising lustful indulgences according to fancy, was lost. The Brahman Rishi Visvâmitra (Pi-she-po), living religiously for ten thousand years, deeply ensnared by a heavenly queen, in one day was completely shipwrecked in faith; thus those enticing women, by their power, overcame the Brahman ascetics; how much more may ye, by your arts, overpower the resolves of the king's son; strive therefore after new devices, let not the king fail in a successor to the throne; women, though naturally weak, are high and potent in the way of ruling men. What may not their arts accomplish in promoting in men a lustful desire?" At this time all the attendant women, hearing throughout the words of Udâyi, increasing their powers of pleasing, as the quiet horse when touched by the whip, went into the presence of the royal prince, and each one strove in the practice of every kind of art. They joined in music and in smiling conversation, raising their eyebrows, showing their white teeth, with ogling looks, glancing one at the other, their light drapery exhibiting their white bodies, daintily moving with mincing gait, acting the part of a bride as if coming gradually nearer, desiring to promote in him a feeling of love, remembering the words of the great king, "With dissolute form and slightly clad, forgetful of modesty and womanly reserve." The prince with resolute heart was silent and still, with unmoved face he sat; even as the great elephant-dragon, whilst the entire herd moves round him; so nothing could disturb or move his heart, dwelling in their midst as in a confined room. Like the divine Sakra, around whom all the Devîs assemble, so was the prince as he dwelt in the gardens; the maidens encircling him thus; some arranging their dress, others washing their hands or feet, others perfuming their bodies with scent, others twining flowers for decoration, others making strings for jewelled necklets, others rubbing or striking their bodies, others resting, or lying, one beside the other; others, with head inclined, whispering secret words, others engaged in common sports, others talking of amorous things, others assuming lustful attitudes, striving thus to move his heart. But Bodhisattva, peaceful and collected, firm as a rock, difficult to move, hearing all these women's talk, unaffected either to joy or sorrow, was driven still more to serious thought, sighing to witness such strange conduct, and beginning to understand the women's design, by these means to disconcert his mind, not knowing that youthful beauty soon falls, destroyed by old age and death, fading and perishing! This is the great distress! What ignorance and delusion (he reflected) overshadow their minds: "Surely they ought to consider old age, disease, and death, and day and night stir themselves up to exertion, whilst this sharp double-edged sword hangs over the neck. What room for sport or laughter, beholding those monsters, old age, disease, and death? A man who is unable to resort to this inward knowledge, what is he but a wooden or a plaster man, what heart-consideration in such a case! Like the double tree that appears in the desert, with leaves and fruit all perfect and ripe, the first cut down and destroyed, the other unmoved by apprehension, so it is in the case of the mass of men: they have no understanding either!"

At this time Udâyi came to the place where the prince was, and observing his silent and thoughtful mien, unmoved by any desire for indulgence, he forthwith addressed the prince, and said, "The Mahâraga, by his former appointment, has selected me to act as friend to his son; may I therefore speak some friendly words? an enlightened friendship is of three sorts: that which removes things unprofitable, promotes that which is real gain, and stands by a friend in adversity. I claim the name of 'enlightened friend,' and would renounce all that is magisterial, but yet not speak lightly or with indifference. What then are the three sources of advantage? listen, and I will now utter true words, and prove myself a true and sincere adviser. When the years are fresh and ripening, beauty and pleasing qualities in bloom, not to give proper weight to woman's influence, this is a weak man's policy. It is right sometimes to be of a crafty mind, submitting to those little subterfuges which find a place in the heart's undercurrents, and obeying what those thoughts suggest in way of pleasures to be got from dalliance: this is no wrong in woman's eye! even if now the heart has no desire, yet it is fair to follow such devices; agreement is the joy of woman's heart, acquiescence is the substance (the full) of true adornment; but if a man reject these overtures, he's like a tree deprived of leaves and fruits; why then ought you to yield and acquiesce? that you may share in all these things. Because in taking, there's an end of trouble--no light and changeful thoughts then worry us--for pleasure is the first and foremost thought of all, the gods themselves cannot dispense with it. Lord Sakra was drawn by it to love the wife of Gautama the Rishi; so likewise the Rishi Agastya, through a long period of discipline, practising austerities, from hankering after a heavenly queen (Devî), lost all reward of his religious endeavors, the Rishi Brihaspati, and Kandradeva putra; the Rishi Parâsara, and Kavañgara (Kia-pin-ke-lo). All these, out of many others, were overcome by woman's love. How much more then, in your case, should you partake in such pleasant joys; nor refuse, with wilful heart, to participate in the worldly delights, which your present station, possessed of such advantages, offers you, in the presence of these attendants."

Thus lost in tranquil contemplation, he considered that youth, vigor, and strength of life, constantly renewing themselves, without long stay, in the end fulfil the rule of ultimate destruction. Thus he pondered, without excessive joy or grief, without hesitation or confusion of thought, without dreaminess or extreme longing, without aversion or discontent, but perfectly at peace, with no hindrance, radiant with the beams of increased illumination. At this time a Deva of the Pure abode, transforming himself into the shape of a Bhikshu, came to the place where the prince was seated; the prince with due consideration rose to meet him, and asked him who he was. In reply he said, "I am a Shâman, depressed and sad at thought of age, disease, and death; I have left my home to seek some way of rescue, but everywhere I find old age, disease, and death; all things hasten to decay and there is no permanency. Therefore I search for the happiness of something that decays not, that never perishes, that never knows beginning, that looks with equal mind on enemy and friend, that heeds not wealth nor beauty; the happiness of one who finds repose alone in solitude, in some unfrequented dell, free from molestation, all thoughts about the world destroyed; dwelling in some lonely hermitage, untouched by any worldly source of pollution, begging for food sufficient for the body." And forthwith as he stood before the prince, gradually rising up he disappeared in space.

The prince, with joyful mind, considering, recollected former Buddhas, established thus in perfect dignity of manner; with noble mien and presence, as this visitor. Thus calling things to mind with perfect self-possession, he reached the thought of righteousness, and by what means it can be gained. Indulging thus for some time in thoughts of religious solitude, he now suppressed his feelings and controlled his members, and rising turned again towards the city. His followers all flocked after him, calling him to stop and not go far from them, but in his mind these secret thoughts so held him, devising means by which to escape from the world, that though his body moved along the road, his heart was far away among the mountains; even as the bound and captive elephant ever thinks about his desert wilds. The prince now entering the city, there met him men and women, earnest for their several ends; the old besought him for their children, the young sought something for the wife, others sought something for their brethren; all those allied by kinship or by family, aimed to obtain their several suits, all of them joined in relationship dreading the pain of separation. And now the prince's heart was filled with joy, as he suddenly heard those words "separation and association." "These are joyful sounds to me," he said, "they assure me that my vow shall be accomplished." Then deeply pondering the joy of "snapped relationship," the idea of Nirvâna, deepened and widened in him, his body as a peak of the Golden Mount, his shoulder like the elephant's, his voice like the spring-thunder, his deep-blue eye like that of the king of oxen; his mind full of religious thoughts, his face bright as the full moon, his step like that of the lion king, thus he entered his palace; even as the son of Lord Sakra, or Sakra-putra, his mind reverential, his person dignified, he went straight to his father's presence, and with head inclined, inquired, "Is the king well?" Then he explained his dread of age, disease, and death, and sought respectfully permission to become a hermit. "For all things in the world," he said, "though now united, tend to separation." Therefore he prayed to leave the world; desiring to find "true deliverance."

The prince, beholding his royal father bathed with tears and o'erwhelmed with grief, forthwith returned to his abode, and sat himself in silence to consider; all the women of the palace, coming towards him, waited as they circled him, and gazed in silence on his beauteous form. They gazed upon him not with furtive glance, but like the deer in autumn brake looks wistfully at the hunter; around the prince's straight and handsome form, bright as the mountain of true gold (Sumeru). The dancing women gathered doubtingly, waiting to hear him bid them sound their music; repressing every feeling of the heart through fear, even as the deer within the brake; now gradually the day began to wane, the prince still sitting in the evening light, his glory streaming forth in splendor, as the sun lights up Mount Sumeru; thus seated on his jewelled couch, surrounded by the fumes of sandal-wood, the dancing women took their places round; then sounded forth their heavenly music, even as Vaisaman produces every kind of rare and heavenly sounds. The thoughts which dwelt within the prince's mind entirely drove from him desire for music, and though the sounds filled all the place, they fell upon his ear unnoticed. At this time the Deva of the Pure abode, knowing the prince's time was come, the destined time for quitting home, suddenly assumed a form and came to earth, to make the shapes of all the women unattractive, so that they might create disgust, and no desire arise from thought of beauty. Their half-clad forms bent in ungainly attitudes, forgetful in their sleep, their bodies crooked or supine, the instruments of music lying scattered in disorder; leaning and facing one another, or with back to back, or like those beings thrown into the abyss, their jewelled necklets bound about like chains, their clothes and undergarments swathed around their persons; grasping their instruments, stretched along the earth, even as those undergoing punishment at the hands of keepers, their garments in confusion, or like the broken kani flower; or some with bodies leaning in sleep against the wall, in fashion like a hanging bow or horn, or with their hands holding to the window-frames, and looking like an outstretched corpse. Their mouths half opened or else gaping wide, the loathsome dribble trickling forth, their heads uncovered and in wild disorder, like some unreasoning madman's; the flower wreaths torn and hanging across their face, or slipping off the face upon the ground; others with body raised as if in fearful dread, just like the lonely desert bird; or others pillowed on their neighbor's lap, their hands and feet entwined together, whilst others smiled or knit their brows in turn; some with eyes closed and open mouth, their bodies lying in wild disorder, stretched here and there, like corpses thrown together. And now the prince seated, in his beauty, looked with thought on all the waiting women; before, they had appeared exceeding lovely, their laughing words, their hearts so light and gay, their forms so plump and young, their looks so bright; but now, how changed! so uninviting and repulsive. And such is woman's disposition! how can they, then, be ever dear, or closely trusted; such false appearances! and unreal pretences; they only madden and delude the minds of men.

"And now," he said, "I have awakened to the truth! Resolved am I to leave such false society." At this time the Deva of the Pure abode descended and approached, unfastening the doors. The prince, too, at this time rose and walked along, amid the prostrate forms of all the women; with difficulty reaching the inner hall, he called to Kandaka, in these words, "My mind is now athirst and longing for the draught of the fountain of sweet dew; saddle then my horse, and quickly bring it here. I wish to reach the deathless city; my heart is fixed beyond all change, resolved I am and bound by sacred oath; these women, once so charming and enticing, now behold I altogether loathsome; the gates, which were before fast-barred and locked, now stand free and open! these evidences of something supernatural, point to a climax of my life."

The Devas then gave spiritual strength; and unperceived the horse equipped came round, with even pace; a gallant steed, with all his jewelled trappings for a rider; high-maned, with flowing tail, broad-backed, short-haired and eared, with belly like the deer's, head like the king of parrots, wide forehead, round and claw-shaped nostrils, breath like the dragon's, with breast and shoulders square, true and sufficient marks of his high breed. The royal prince, stroking the horse's neck, and rubbing down his body, said, "My royal father ever rode on thee, and found thee brave in fight and fearless of the foe; now I desire to rely on thee alike! to carry me far off to the stream (ford) of endless life, to fight against and overcome the opposing force of men, the men who associate in search of pleasure, the men who engage in the search after wealth, the crowds who follow and flatter such persons; in opposing sorrow, friendly help is difficult to find, in seeking religious truth there must be rare enlightenment, let us then be knit together thus as friends; then, at last, there will be rest from sorrow. But now I wish to go abroad, to give deliverance from pain; now then, for your own sake it is, and for the sake of all your kind, that you should exert your strength, with noble pace, without lagging or weariness." Having thus exhorted him, he bestrode his horse, and grasping the reins proceeded forth; the man like the sun shining forth from his tabernacle, the horse like the white floating cloud, exerting himself but without exciting haste, his breath concealed and without snorting; four spirits (Devas) accompanying him, held up his feet, heedfully concealing his advance, silently and without noise; the heavy gates fastened and barred, the heavenly spirits of themselves caused to open. Reverencing deeply the virtuous father, loving deeply the unequalled son, equally affected with love towards all the members of his family these Devas took their place.

Suppressing his feelings, but not extinguishing his memory, lightly he advanced and proceeded beyond the city, pure and spotless as the lily flowers which spring from the mud; looking up with earnestness at his father's palace, he announced his purpose--unwitnessed and unwritten--"If I escape not birth, old age, and death, for evermore I pass not thus along." All the concourse of Devas, the space-filling Nâgas and spirits followed joyfully and exclaimed, "Well! well!" in confirmation of the true words he spoke. The Nâgas and the company of Devas acquired a condition of heart difficult to obtain, and each with his own inherent light led on the way shedding forth their brightness. Thus man and horse, both strong of heart, went onwards, lost to sight like streaming stars, but ere the eastern quarter flashed with light, they had advanced three yoganas.

[Footnote 94: The condition of the highest Deva, according to Buddhism, does not exempt him from re-birth; subject to the calamities incident on such a renewal of life.]

Then the Deva of the Pure abode, knowing the heart-ponderings of the prince, transformed himself into a hunter's likeness, holding his bow, his arrows in his girdle, his body girded with a Kashâya-colored robe, thus he advanced in front of the prince. The prince considering this garment of his, the color of the ground, a fitting pure attire, becoming to the utmost the person of a Rishi, not fit for a hunter's dress, forthwith called to the hunter, as he stood before him, in accents soft, and thus addressed him: "That dress of thine belikes me much, as if it were not foul, and this my dress I'll give thee in exchange, so please thee."

The prince having dismissed Kandaka, as he entered the Rishis' abode, his graceful body brightly shining, lit up on every side the forest "place of suffering"; himself gifted with every excellence, according to his gifts, so were they reflected. As the lion, the king of beasts, when he enters among the herd of beasts, drives from their minds all thoughts of common things, as now they watch the true form of their kind, so those Rishi masters assembled there, suddenly perceiving the miraculous portent, were struck with awe and fearful gladness, as they gazed with earnest eyes and hands conjoined. The men and women, engaged in various occupations, beholding him, with unchanged attitudes, gazed as the gods look on King Sakra, with constant look and eyes unmoved; so the Rishis, with their feet fixed fast, looked at him even thus; whatever in their hands they held, without releasing it, they stopped and looked; even as the ox when yoked to the wain, his body bound, his mind also restrained; so also the followers of the holy Rishis, each called the other to behold the miracle. The peacocks and the other birds with cries commingled flapped their wings; the Brahmakârins holding the rules of deer, following the deer wandering through mountain glades, as the deer coarse of nature, with flashing eyes, regard the prince with fixed gaze; so following the deer, those Brahmakârins intently gaze likewise, looking at the exceeding glory of the Ikshvâku. As the glory of the rising sun is able to affect the herds of milch kine, so as to increase the quantity of their sweet-scented milk, so those Brahmakârins, with wondrous joy, thus spoke one to the other: "Surely this is one of the eight Vasu Devas"; others, "this is one of the two Asvins"; others, "this is Mâra"; others, "this is one of the Brahmakâyikas"; others, "this is Sûryadeva or Kandradeva, coming down; are they not seeking here a sacrifice which is their due? Come let us haste to offer our religious services!"

The prince, on his part, with respectful mien addressed to them polite salutation. Then Bodhisattva, looking with care in every direction on the Brahmakârins occupying the wood, each engaged in his religious duties, all desirous of the delights of heaven, addressed the senior Brahmakârin, and asked him as to the path of true religion. "Now having just come here, I do not yet know the rules of your religious life. I ask you therefore for information, and I pray explain to me what I ask."

On this that twice-born (Brahman) in reply explained in succession all the modes of painful discipline, and the fruits expected as their result. How some ate nothing brought from inhabited places but that produced from pure water, others edible roots and tender twigs, others fruits and flowers fit for food, each according to the rules of his sect, clothing and food in each case different; some living amongst bird-kind, and like them capturing and eating food; others eating as the deer the grass and herbs; others living like serpents, inhaling air; others eating nothing pounded in wood or stone; some eating with two teeth, till a wound be formed; others, again, begging their food and giving it in charity, taking only the remnants for themselves; others, again, who let water continually drip on their heads and those who offer up with fire; others who practise water-dwelling like fish; thus there are Brahmakârins of every sort, who practise austerities, that they may at the end of life obtain a birth in heaven, and by their present sufferings afterwards obtain peaceable fruit.

Thus speaking at large on religious questions, they went on till the setting sun. He then beheld their rites in connection with sacrifice to fire, the drilling for sparks and the fanning into flame, also the sprinkling of the butter libations, also the chanting of the mystic prayers, till the sun went down. The prince considering these acts, could not perceive the right reason of them, and was now desirous to turn and go. Then all those Brahmakârins came together to him to request him to stay; regarding with reverence the dignity of Bodhisattva, very desirous, they earnestly besought him: "You have come from an irreligious place, to this wood where true religion flourishes, and yet, now, you wish to go away; we beg you, then, on this account, to stay." All the old Brahmakârins, with their twisted hair and bark clothes, came following after Bodhisattva, asking him as a god to stay a little while. Bodhisattva seeing these aged ones following him, their bodies worn with macerations, stood still and rested beneath a tree; and soothing them, urged them to return. Then all the Brahmakârins, young and old, surrounding him, made their request with joined hands: "You who have so unexpectedly arrived here, amid these garden glades so full of attraction, why now are you leaving them and going away, to seek perfection in the wilderness? As a man loving long life, is unwilling to let go his body, so we are even thus; would that you would stop awhile. This is a spot where Brahmans and Rishis have ever dwelt, royal Rishis and heavenly Rishis, these all have dwelt within these woods. The places on the borders of the snowy mountains, where men of high birth undergo their penance, those places are not to be compared to this. All the body of learned masters from this place have reached heaven; all the learned Rishis who have sought religious merit, have from this place and northwards found it; those who have attained a knowledge of the true law, and gained divine wisdom come not from southwards; if you indeed see us remiss and not earnest enough, practising rules not pure, and on that account are not pleased to stay, then we are the ones that ought to go; you can still remain and dwell here; all these different Brahmakârins ever desire to find companions in their penances. And you, because you are conspicuous for your religious earnestness, should not so quickly cast away their society: if you can remain here, they will honor you as god Sakra, yea! as the Devas pay worship to Brihaspati."

At this time all the Brahmakârins, hearing the words spoken by Bodhisattva, words full of right reason and truth, very excellent in the distinction of principles, their hearts rejoiced and exulted greatly, and deep feelings of reverence were excited within them.

Mahâpragâpati Gotamî, hearing that the prince had not returned, fell fainting on the ground, her limbs entirely deprived of strength, even as some mad tornado wind crushes the golden-colored plantain tree; and again, hearing that her son had become a recluse, deeply sighing and with increased sadness she thought, "Alas! those glossy locks turning to the right, each hair produced from each orifice, dark and pure, gracefully shining, sweeping the earth when loose, or when so determined, bound together in a heavenly crown, and now shorn and lying in the grass! Those rounded shoulders and that lion step! Those eyes broad as the ox-king's, that body shining bright as yellow gold; that square breast and Brahma voice; that you! possessing all these excellent qualities, should have entered on the sorrow-giving forest; what fortune now remains for the world, losing thus the holy king of earth? That those delicate and pliant feet, pure as the lily and of the same color, should now be torn by stones and thorns; O how can such feet tread on such ground! Born and nourished in the guarded palace, clad with garments of the finest texture, washed in richly scented water, anointed with the choicest perfumes, and now exposed to chilling blasts and dews of night, O! where during the heat or the chilly morn can rest be found! Thou flower of all thy race! Confessed by all the most renowned! Thy virtuous qualities everywhere talked of and exalted, ever reverenced, without self-seeking! why hast thou unexpectedly brought thyself upon some morn to beg thy food for life! Thou who wert wont to repose upon a soft and kingly couch, and indulge in every pleasure during thy waking hours: how canst thou endure the mountain and the forest wilds, on the bare grass to make thyself a resting-place!"

Yasodharâ hearing these words, her heart was lost in deep consideration! the deeds accomplished by the gods could not be laid to others' charge, as faults; and so she ceased her angry chiding, and allowed her great consuming grief to smoulder. Thus prostrate on the ground she muttered out her sad complaints, "That the two doves should be divided! Now," she cried, "my stay and my support is lost, between those once agreed in life, separation has sprung up! those who were at one as to religion are now divided! where shall I seek another mode of life? In olden days the former conquerors greatly rejoiced to see their kingly retinue; these with their wives in company, in search of highest wisdom, roamed through groves and plains. And now, that he should have deserted me! and what is the religious state he seeks! the Brahman ritual respecting sacrifice, requires the wife to take part in the offering, and because they both share in the service they shall both receive a common reward hereafter! but you O prince! art niggard in your religious rites, driving me away, and wandering forth alone! Is it that you saw me jealous, and so turned against me! that you now seek someone free from jealousy! or did you see some other cause to hate me, that you now seek to find a heaven-born nymph! But why should one excelling in every personal grace seek to practise self-denying austerities! is it that you despise a common lot with me, that variance rises in your breast against your wife! Why does not Râhula fondly repose upon your knee. Alas! alas! unlucky master! full of grace without, but hard at heart! The glory and the pride of all your tribe, yet hating those who reverence you! O! can it be, you have turned your back for good upon your little child, scarce able yet to smile! My heart is gone! and all my strength! my lord has fled, to wander in the mountains! he cannot surely thus forget me! he is then but a man of wood or stone." Thus having spoken, her mind was dulled and darkened, she muttered on, or spoke in wild mad words, or fancied that she saw strange sights, and sobbing past the power of self-restraint, her breath grew less, and sinking thus, she fell asleep upon the dusty ground! The palace ladies seeing this, were wrung with heartfelt sorrow, just as the full-blown lily, struck by the wind and hail, is broken down and withered.

And now the king, his father, having lost the prince, was filled, both night and day, with grief; and fasting, sought the gods for help. He prayed that they would soon restore him, and having prayed and finished sacrifice, he went from out the sacred gates; then hearing all the cries and sounds of mourning, his mind distressed became confused, as when heaven's thundering and lightning put to bewildering flight a herd of elephants. Then seeing Kandaka with the royal steed, after long questioning, finding his son a hermit, fainting he fell upon the earth, as when the flag of Indra falls and breaks. Then all the ministers of state, upraising him, exhort him, as was right, to calm himself. After awhile, his mind somewhat recovered, speaking to the royal steed, he said: "How often have I ridden thee to battle, and every time have thought upon your excellence! but now I hate and loathe thee, more than ever I have loved or praised thee! My son, renowned for noble qualities, thou hast carried off and taken from me; and left him 'mid the mountain forests; and now you have come back alone; take me, then, quickly hence and go! And going, never more come back with me! For since you have not brought him back, my life is worth no more preserving; no longer care I about governing! My son about me was my only joy; as the Brahman Gayanta met death for his son's sake, so I, deprived of my religious son, will of myself deprive myself of life. So Manu, lord of all that lives, ever lamented for his son; how much more I, a mortal man deprived of mine, must lose all rest! In old time the king Aga, loving his son, wandering through the mountains, lost in thought, ended life, and forthwith was born in heaven. And now I cannot die! Through the long night fixed in this sad state, with this great palace round me, thinking of my son, solitary and athirst as any hungry spirit; as one who, thirsty, holding water in his hand, but when he tries to drink lets all escape, and so remains athirst till death ensues, and after death becomes a wandering ghost; so I, in the extremity of thirst, through loss, possessed once of a son, but now without a son, still live and cannot end my days! But come! tell me at once where is my son! let me not die athirst for want of knowing this and fall among the Pretas. In former days, at least, my will was strong and firm, difficult to move as the great earth; but now I've lost my son, my mind is dazed, as was in old time the king Dasaratha's."

The king now suppressing his grief, urged on his great teacher and chief minister, as one urges on with whip a ready horse, to hasten onwards as the rapid stream; whilst they fatigued, yet with unflagging effort, come to the place of the sorrow-giving grove; then laying on one side the five outward marks of dignity and regulating well their outward gestures, they entered the Brahmans' quiet hermitage, and paid reverence to the Rishis. They, on their part, begged them to be seated, and repeated the law for their peace and comfort.

The child of the glorious sun of the Ikshvâku race, going to that quiet peaceful grove, reverently stood before the Muni, the great Rishi Ârâda Râma; the dark-clad followers of the Kalam (Sanghârâma) seeing afar-off Bodhisattva approaching, with loud voice raised a joyful chant, and with suppressed breath muttered "Welcome," as with clasped hands they reverenced him. Approaching one another, they made mutual inquiries; and this being done, with the usual apologies, according to their precedence in age they sat down; the Brahmakârins observing the prince, beheld his personal beauty and carefully considered his appearance; respectfully they satisfied themselves of his high qualities, like those who, thirsty, drink the "pure dew." Then with raised hands they addressed the prince: "Have you been long an ascetic, divided from your family and broken from the bonds of love, like the elephant who has cast off restraint? Full of wisdom, completely enlightened, you seem well able to escape the poisonous fruit of this world. In old time the monarch Ming Shing gave up his kingly estate to his son, as a man who has carried a flowery wreath, when withered casts it away: but such is not your case, full of youthful vigor, and yet not enamoured with the condition of a holy king; we see that your will is strong and fixed, capable of becoming a vessel of the true law, able to embark in the boat of wisdom, and to cross over the sea of life and death. The common class, enticed to come to learn, their talents first are tested, then they are taught; but as I understand your case, your mind is already fixed and your will firm; and now you have undertaken the purpose of learning, I am persuaded you will not in the end shrink from it."

The prince hearing these words again inquired of Ârâda: "Tell me what are the expedients you name, and what is the final place to which they lead, and what is the character of that pure Brahman life; and again what are the stated periods during which such life must be practised, and during which such life is lawful; all these are principles to be inquired into; and on them I pray you discourse for my sake."

Then that Ârâda, according to the Sutras and Sâstras, spoke: "Yourself using wisdom is the expedient; but I will further dilate on this a little; first by removing from the crowd and leading a hermit's life, depending entirely on alms for food, extensively practising rules of decorum, religiously adhering to right rules of conduct; desiring little and knowing when to abstain, receiving whatever is given in food, whether pleasant or otherwise, delighting to practise a quiet life, diligently studying all the Sûtras and Sâstras; observing the character of covetous longing and fear, without remnant of desire to live in purity, to govern well the organs of life, the mind quieted and silently at rest; removing desire, and hating vice, all the sorrows of life put away, then there is happiness; and we obtain the enjoyment of the first dhyâna. Having obtained this first dhyâna, then with the illumination thus obtained, by inward meditation is born reliance on thought alone, and the entanglements of folly are put away; the mind depending on this, then after death, born in the Brahma heavens, the enlightened are able to know themselves; by the use of means is produced further inward illumination; diligently persevering, seeking higher advance, accomplishing the second dhyâna, tasting of that great joy, we are born in the Kwong-yin heaven; then by the use of means putting away this delight, practising the third dhyâna, resting in such delight and wishing no further excellence, there is a birth in the Subhakritsna heaven; leaving the thought of such delight, straightway we reach the fourth dhyâna, all joys and sorrows done away, the thought of escape produced; we dwell in this fourth dhyâna, and are born in the Vrihat-phala heaven; because of its long enduring years, it is thus called Vrihat-phala (extensive-fruit); whilst in that state of abstraction rising higher, perceiving there is a place beyond any bodily condition, adding still and persevering further in practising wisdom, rejecting this fourth dhyâna, firmly resolved to persevere in the search, still contriving to put away every desire after form, gradually from every pore of the body there is perceived a feeling of empty release, and in the end this extends to every solid part, so that the whole is perfected in an apprehension of emptiness. In brief, perceiving no limits to this emptiness, there is opened to the view boundless knowledge. Endowed with inward rest and peace, the idea of 'I' departs, and the object of 'I'--clearly discriminating the non-existence of matter, this is the condition of immaterial life. As the Muñga (grass) when freed from its horny case, or as the wild bird which escapes from its prison trap, so, getting away from all material limitations, we thus find perfect release. Thus ascending above the Brahmans, deprived of every vestige of bodily existence, we still endure. Endued with wisdom! let it be known this is real and true deliverance. You ask what are the expedients for obtaining this escape; even as I have before detailed, those who have deep faith will learn. The Rishis Gaigîshavya, Ganaka, Vriddha Parâsara, and other searchers after truth, all by the way I have explained, have reached true deliverance."

The spirits, Nâgas, and the heavenly multitude, all were filled with joy; but Mâra Devarâga, enemy of religion, alone was grieved, and rejoiced not; lord of the five desires, skilled in all the arts of warfare, the foe of those who seek deliverance, therefore his name is rightly given Pisuna. Now this Mâra râga had three daughters, mincingly beautiful and of a pleasant countenance, in every way fit by artful ways to inflame a man with love, highest in this respect among the Devis. The first was named Yuh-yen, the second Neng-yueh-gin, the third Ngai-loh. These three, at this time, advanced together, and addressed their father Pisuna and said: "May we not know the trouble that afflicts you?"

Seizing then his bow and his five arrows, with all his retinue of male and female attendants, he went to that grove of "fortunate rest" with the vow that the world should not find peace. Then seeing the Muni, quiet and still, preparing to cross the sea of the three worlds, in his left hand grasping his bow, with his right hand pointing his arrow, he addressed Bodhisattva and said: "Kshatriya! rise up quickly! for you may well fear! your death is at hand; you may practise your own religious system, but let go this effort after the law of deliverance for others; wage warfare in the field of charity as a cause of merit, appease the tumultuous world, and so in the end reach your reward in heaven. This is a way renowned and well established, in which former saints have walked, Rishis and kings and men of eminence; but this system of penury and alms-begging is unworthy of you. Now then if you rise not, you had best consider with yourself, that if you give not up your vow, and tempt me to let fly an arrow, how that Aila, grandchild of Soma, by one of these arrows just touched, as by a fanning of the wind, lost his reason and became a madman. And how the Rishi Vimala, practising austerities, hearing the sound of one of these darts, his heart possessed by great fear, bewildered and darkened he lost his true nature; how much less can you--a late-born one--hope to escape this dart of mine. Quickly arise then! if hardly you may get away! This arrow full of rankling poison, fearfully insidious where it strikes a foe! See now! with all my force, I point it! and are you resting in the face of such calamity? How is it that you fear not this dread arrow? say! why do you not tremble?" Mâra uttered such fear-inspiring threats, bent on overawing Bodhisattva. But Bodhisattva's heart remained unmoved; no doubt, no fear was present. Then Mâra instantly discharged his arrow, whilst the three women came in front. Bodhisattva regarded not the arrow, nor considered aught the women three. Mâra râga now was troubled much with doubt, and muttered thus 'twixt heart and mouth: "Long since the maiden of the snowy mountains, shooting at Mahesvara, constrained him to change his mind; and yet Bodhisattva is unmoved, and heeds not even this dart of mine, nor the three heavenly women! nought prevails to move his heart or raise one spark of love within him. Now must I assemble my army-host, and press him sore by force;" having thought thus awhile, Mâra's army suddenly assembled round. Each assumed his own peculiar form; some were holding spears, others grasping swords, others snatching up trees, others wielding diamond maces; armed with every sort of weapon. Some had heads like hogs, others like fishes, others like asses, others like horses; some with forms like snakes or like the ox or savage tiger; lion-headed, dragon-headed, and like every other kind of beast. Some had many heads on one body-trunk, with faces having but a single eye, and then again with many eyes; some with great-bellied mighty bodies. And others thin and skinny, belly-less; others long-legged, mighty-kneed; others big-shanked and fat-calved; some with long and claw-like nails. Some were headless, breastless, faceless; some with two feet and many bodies; some with big faces looking every way; some pale and ashy-colored; others colored like the bright star rising, others steaming fiery vapor, some with ears like elephants, with humps like mountains, some with naked forms covered with hair. Some with leather skins for clothing, their faces parti-colored, crimson, and white; some with tiger skins as robes, some with snake skins over them, some with tinkling bells around their waists, others with twisted screw-like hair, others with hair dishevelled covering the body, some breath-suckers, others body-snatchers, some dancing and shrieking awhile, some jumping onwards with their feet together, some striking one another as they went. Others waving in the air, others flying and leaping between the trees, others howling, or hooting, or screaming, or whining, with their evil noises shaking the great earth; thus this wicked goblin troop encircled on its four sides the Bodhi tree; some bent on tearing his body to pieces, others on devouring it whole; from the four sides flames belched forth, and fiery steam ascended up to heaven; tempestuous winds arose on every side; the mountain forests shook and quaked. Wind, fire, and steam, with dust combined, produced a pitchy darkness, rendering all invisible. And now the Devas well affected to the law, and all the Nâgas and the spirits, all incensed at this host of Mâra, with anger fired, wept tears of blood; the great company of Suddhavâsa gods, beholding Mâra tempting Bodhisattva, free from low-feeling, with hearts undisturbed by passion, moved by pity towards him and commiseration, came in a body to behold the Bodhisattva, so calmly seated and so undisturbed, surrounded with an uncounted host of devils, shaking the heaven and earth with sounds ill-omened. Bodhisattva silent and quiet in the midst remained, his countenance as bright as heretofore, unchanged; like the great lion-king placed amongst all the beasts howling and growling round him so he sat, a sight unseen before, so strange and wonderful! The host of Mâra hastening, as arranged, each one exerting his utmost force, taking each other's place in turns, threatening every moment to destroy him. Fiercely staring, grinning with their teeth, flying tumultuously, bounding here and there; but Bodhisattva, silently beholding them, watched them as one would watch the games of children. And now the demon host waxed fiercer and more angry, and added force to force, in further conflict; grasping at stones they could not lift, or lifting them, they could not let them go. Their flying spears, lances, and javelins, stuck fast in space, refusing to descend; the angry thunderdrops and mighty hail, with these, were changed into five-colored lotus flowers, whilst the foul poison of the dragon snakes was turned to spicy-breathing air. Thus all these countless sorts of creatures, wishing to destroy the Bodhisattva, unable to remove him from the spot, were with their own weapons wounded. Now Mâra had an aunt-attendant whose name was Ma-kia-ka-li, who held a skull-dish in her hands, and stood in front of Bodhisattva, and with every kind of winsome gesture, tempted to lust the Bodhisattva. So all these followers of Mâra, possessed of every demon-body form, united in discordant uproar, hoping to terrify Bodhisattva; but not a hair of his was moved, and Mâra's host was filled with sorrow. Then in the air the crowd of angels, their forms invisible, raised their voices, saying: "Behold the great Muni; his mind unmoved by any feeling of resentment, whilst all that wicked Mâra race, besotted, are vainly bent on his destruction; let go your foul and murderous thoughts against that silent Muni, calmly seated! You cannot with a breath move the Sumeru mountain. Fire may freeze, water may burn, the roughened earth may grow soft and pliant, but ye cannot hurt the Bodhisattva! Through ages past disciplined by suffering. Bodhisattva rightly trained in thought, ever advancing in the use of 'means,' pure and illustrious for wisdom, loving and merciful to all. These four conspicuous virtues cannot with him be rent asunder, so as to make it hard or doubtful whether he gain the highest wisdom. For as the thousand rays of yonder sun must drown the darkness of the world, or as the boring wood must kindle fire, or as the earth deep-dug gives water, so he who perseveres in the 'right means,' by seeking thus, will find. The world without instruction, poisoned by lust and hate and ignorance; because he pitied 'flesh,' so circumstanced, he sought on their account the joy of wisdom. Why then would you molest and hinder one who seeks to banish sorrow from the world? The ignorance that everywhere prevails is due to false pernicious books, and therefore Bodhisattva, walking uprightly, would lead and draw men after him. To obscure and blind the great world-leader, this undertaking is impossible, for 'tis as though in the Great Desert a man would purposely mislead the merchant-guide. So 'all flesh' having fallen into darkness, ignorant of where they are going, for their sakes he would light the lamp of wisdom; say then! why would you extinguish it? All flesh engulfed and overwhelmed in the great sea of birth and death, this one prepares the boat of wisdom; say then! why destroy and sink it? Patience is the sprouting of religion, firmness its root, good conduct is the flower, the enlightened heart the boughs and branches. Wisdom supreme the entire tree, the 'transcendent law' the fruit, its shade protects all living things; say then! why would you cut it down? Lust, hate, and ignorance, are the rack and bolt, the yoke placed on the shoulder of the world; through ages long he has practised austerities to rescue men from these their fetters. He now shall certainly attain his end, sitting on this right-established throne; as all the previous Buddhas, firm and compact like a diamond. Though all the earth were moved and shaken, yet would this place be fixed and stable; him, thus fixed and well assured, think not that you can overturn. Bring down and moderate your mind's desire, banish these high and envious thoughts, prepare yourselves for right reflection, be patient in your services."

Mâra hearing these sounds in space, and seeing Bodhisattva still unmoved, filled with fear and banishing his high and supercilious thoughts, again took up his way to heaven above. Whilst all his host were scattered, o'erwhelmed with grief and disappointment, fallen from their high estate, bereft of their warrior pride, their warlike weapons and accoutrements thrown heedlessly and cast away 'mid woods and deserts. Like as when some cruel chieftain slain, the hateful band is all dispersed and scattered, so the host of Mara disconcerted, fled away. The mind of Bodhisattva now reposed peaceful and quiet. The morning sunbeams brighten with the dawn, the dust-like mist dispersing, disappears; the moon and stars pale their faint light, the barriers of the night are all removed, whilst from above a fall of heavenly flowers pay their sweet tribute to the Bodhisattva.

Tathâgata piously composed and silent, radiant with glory, shedding light around, with unmatched dignity advanced alone, as if surrounded by a crowd of followers. Beside the way he encountered a young Brahman whose name was Upâka; struck with the deportment of the Bhikshu, he stood with reverent mien on the roadside. Joyously he gazed at such an unprecedented sight, and then, with closed hands, he spake as follows:--"The crowds who live around are stained with sin, without a pleasing feature, void of grace, and the great world's heart is everywhere disturbed; but you alone, your senses all composed, with visage shining as the moon when full, seem to have quaffed the water of the immortals' stream. The marks of beauty yours, as the great man's, the strength of wisdom, as an all-sufficient, independent king's; what you have done must have been wisely done: what then your noble tribe and who your master?" Answering he said, "I have no master; no honorable tribe; no point of excellence; self-taught in this profoundest doctrine, I have arrived at superhuman wisdom. That which behooves the world to learn, but through the world no learner found, I now myself and by myself have learned throughout; 'tis rightly called Sambodhi. That hateful family of griefs the sword of wisdom has destroyed; this then is what the world has named, and rightly named, the 'chiefest victory.' Through all Benares soon will sound the drum of life, no stay is possible--I have no name--nor do I seek profit or pleasure. But simply to declare the truth; to save men from pain, and to fulfil my ancient oath, to rescue all not yet delivered. The fruit of this my oath is ripened now, and I will follow out my ancient vow. Wealth, riches, self all given up, unnamed, I still am named 'Righteous Master.' And bringing profit to the world, I also have the name 'Great Teacher'; facing sorrows, not swallowed up by them, am I not rightly called 'Courageous Warrior?' If not a healer of diseases, what means the name of 'Good Physician?' Seeing the wanderer, not showing him the way, why then should I be called 'Good Master-guide?' Like as the lamp shines in the dark, without a purpose of its own, self-radiant, so burns the lamp of the Tathâgata, without the shadow of a personal feeling. Bore wood in wood, there must be fire; the wind blows of its own free self in space; dig deep and you will come to water; this is the rule of self-causation. All the Munis who perfect wisdom, must do so at Gayâ; and in the Kâsi country they must first turn the Wheel of Righteousness." The young Brahman Upâka, astonished, breathed the praise of such strange doctrine, and called to mind like thoughts he had before experienced; lost in thought at the wonderful occurrence, at every turning of the road he stopped to think; embarrassed in every step he took, Tathâgata proceeding slowly onwards, came to the city of Kâsi. The land so excellently adorned as the palace of Sakradevendra; the Ganges and Baranâ, two twin rivers flowed amidst; the woods and flowers and fruits so verdant, the peaceful cattle wandering together, the calm retreats free from vulgar noise, such was the place where the old Rishis dwelt. Tathâgata, glorious and radiant, redoubled the brightness of the place; the son of the Kaundinya tribe, and next Dasabalakâsyapa, and the third Vâshpa, the fourth Asvagit, the fifth called Bhadra, practising austerities as hermits, seeing from far Tathâgata approaching, sitting together all engaged in conversation, said: "This Gautama, defiled by worldly indulgence, leaving the practice of austerities, now comes again to find us here, let us be careful not to rise in salutation, nor let us greet him when he comes, nor offer him the customary refreshments. Because he has broken his first vow, he has no claim to hospitality"--for men on seeing an approaching guest by rights prepare things for his present and his after wants. They arrange a proper resting-couch, and take on themselves care for his comfort. Having spoken thus and so agreed, each kept his seat, resolved and fixed. And now Tathâgata slowly approached, when, lo! these men unconsciously, against their vow, rose and invited him to take a seat; offering to take his robe and Pâtra. They begged to wash and rub his feet, and asked him what he required more; thus in everything attentive, they honored him and offered all to him as teacher. They did not cease however to address him still as Gautama, after his family. Then spake the Lord to them and said: "Call me not after my private name, for it is a rude and careless way of speaking to one who has obtained Arhat-ship; but whether men respect or disrespect me, my mind is undisturbed and wholly quiet. But you--your way is not so courteous: let go, I pray, and cast away your fault. Buddha can save the world; they call him, therefore, Buddha. Towards all living things, with equal heart he looks as children, to call him then by his familiar name is to despise a father; this is sin." Thus Buddha, by exercise of mighty love, in deep compassion spoke to them; but they, from ignorance and pride, despised the only wise and true one's words. They said that first he practised self-denial, but having reached thereby no profit, now giving rein to body, word, and thought, how by these means, they asked, has he become a Buddha? Thus equally entangled by doubts, they would not credit that he had attained the way. Thoroughly versed in highest truth, full of all-embracing wisdom, Tagâgata on their account briefly declared to them the one true way; the foolish masters practising austerities, and those who love to gratify their senses, he pointed out to them these two distinctive classes, and how both greatly erred. "Neither of these," he said, "has found the way of highest wisdom, nor are their ways of life productive of true rescue. The emaciated devotee by suffering produces in himself confused and sickly thoughts, not conducive even to worldly knowledge, how much less to triumph over sense! For he who tries to light a lamp with water, will not succeed in scattering the darkness, and so the man who tries with worn-out body to trim the lamp of wisdom shall not succeed, nor yet destroy his ignorance or folly. Who seeks with rotten wood to evoke the fire will waste his labor and get nothing for it; but boring hard wood into hard, the man of skill forthwith gets fire for his use. In seeking wisdom then it is not by these austerities a man may reach the law of life. But to indulge in pleasure is opposed to right: this is the fool's barrier against wisdom's light. The sensualist cannot comprehend the Sûtras or the Sâstras, how much less the way of overcoming all desire! As some man grievously afflicted eats food not fit to eat, and so in ignorance aggravates his sickness, so can he get rid of lust who pampers lust? Scatter the fire amid the desert grass, dried by the sun, fanned by the wind--the raging flames who shall extinguish? Such is the fire of covetousness and lust. I, then, reject both these extremes: my heart keeps in the middle way. All sorrow at an end and finished, I rest at peace, all error put away; my true sight greater than the glory of the sun, my equal and unvarying wisdom, vehicle of insight--right words as it were a dwelling-place--wandering through the pleasant groves of right conduct, making a right life my recreation, walking along the right road of proper means, my city of refuge in right recollection, and my sleeping couch right meditation; these are the eight even and level roads by which to avoid the sorrows of birth and death. Those who come forth by these means from the slough, doing thus, have attained the end; such shall fall neither on this side or the other, amidst the sorrow-crowd of the two periods. The tangled sorrow-web of the three worlds by this road alone can be destroyed; this is my own way, unheard of before; by the pure eyes of the true law, impartially seeing the way of escape, I, only I, now first make known this way; thus I destroy the hateful company of Trishnâ's host, the sorrows of birth and death, old age, disease, and all the unfruitful aims of men, and other springs of suffering. There are those who warring against desire are still influenced by desire; who whilst possessed of body, act as though they had none; who put away from themselves all sources of true merit--briefly will I recount their sorrowful lot. Like smothering a raging fire, though carefully put out, yet a spark left, so in their abstraction, still the germ of 'I,' the source of great sorrow still surviving, perpetuates the suffering caused by lust, and the evil consequences of every kind of deed survive. These are the sources of further pain, but let these go and sorrow dies, even as the seed of corn taken from the earth and deprived of water dies; the concurrent causes not uniting, then the bud and leaf cannot be born; the intricate bonds of every kind of existence, from the Deva down to the evil ways of birth, ever revolve and never cease; all this is produced from covetous desire; falling from a high estate to lower ones, all is the fault of previous deeds. But destroy the seed of covetousness and the rest, then there will be no intricate binding, but all effect of deeds destroyed, the various degrees of sorrow then will end for good. Having this, then, we must inherit that; destroying this, then that is ended too; no birth, old age, disease, or death; no earth, or water, fire, or wind. No beginning, end, or middle; and no deceptive systems of philosophy; this is the standpoint of wise men and sages; the certain and exhausted termination, complete Nirvâna. Such do the eight right ways declare; this one expedient has no remains; that which the world sees not, engrossed by error I declare, I know the way to sever all these sorrow-sources; the way to end them is by right reason, meditating on these four highest truths, following and perfecting this highest wisdom. This is what means the 'knowing' sorrow; this is to cut off the cause of all remains of being; these destroyed, then all striving, too, has ended, the eight right ways have been assayed.

"Thus, too, the four great truths have been acquired, the eyes of the pure law completed. In these four truths, the equal, true or right, eyes not yet born, there is not mention made of gaining true deliverance; it is not said what must be done is done, nor that all is finished, nor that the perfect truth has been acquired. But now because the truth is known, then by myself is known 'deliverance gained,' by myself is known that 'all is done,' by myself is known 'the highest wisdom.'" And having spoken thus respecting truth, the member of the Kaundinya family, and eighty thousand of the Deva host, were thoroughly imbued with saving knowledge. They put away defilement from themselves, they got the eyes of the pure law; Devas and earthly masters thus were sure, that what was to be done was done. And now with lion-voice he joyfully inquired, and asked Kaundinya, "Knowest thou yet?" Kaundinya forthwith answered Buddha, "I know the mighty master's law." And for this reason, knowing it, his name was Âgnâta Kaundinya. Amongst all the disciples of Buddha, he was the very first in understanding. Then as he understood the sounds of the true law, hearing the words of the disciple--all the earth spirits together raised a shout triumphant, "Well done! deeply seeing the principles of the law, Tathâgata, on this auspicious day, has set revolving that which never yet revolved, and far and wide, for gods and men, has opened the gates of immortality. Of this wheel the spokes are the rules of pure conduct; equal contemplation, their uniformity of length; firm wisdom is the tire; modesty and thoughtfulness, the rubbers (sockets in the nave in which the axle is fixed); right reflection is the nave; the wheel itself the law of perfect truth; the right truth now has gone forth in the world, not to retire before another teacher."

Thus the earth spirits shouted, the spirits of the air took up the strain, the Devas all joined in the hymn of praise, up to the highest Brahma heaven. The Devas of the triple world, now hearing what the great Rishi taught, in intercourse together spoke, "The widely honored Buddha moves the world! Widespread, for the sake of all that lives, he turns the wheel of the law of complete purity!" The stormy winds, the clouds, the mists, all disappeared; down from space the heavenly flowers descended. The Devas revelled in their joys celestial, filled with unutterable gladness.

[Footnote 101: The dhyânas are the conditions of ecstasy, enjoyed by the inhabitants of the Brahmaloka heavens.]

And now those five men, Asvagit Vâshpa, and the others, having heard that he (Kaundinya) "knew" the law, with humble mien and self-subdued, their hands joined, offered their homage, and looked with reverence in the teacher's face. Tathâgata, by wise expedient, caused them one by one to embrace the law. And so from first to last the five Bhikshus obtained reason and subdued their senses, like the five stars which shine in heaven, waiting upon the brightening moon. At this time in the town of Ku-i there was a noble's son called Yasas; lost in night-sleep suddenly he woke, and when he saw his attendants all, men and women, with ill-clad bodies, sleeping, his heart was filled with loathing; reflecting on the root of sorrow, he thought how madly foolish men were immersed in it. Clothing himself, and putting on his jewels, he left his home and wandered forth; then on the way he stood and cried aloud, "Alas! alas! what endless chain of sorrows." Tathâgata, by night, was walking forth, and hearing sounds like these, "Alas! what sorrow," forthwith replied, "You are welcome! here, on the other hand, there is a place of rest--the most excellent, refreshing, Nirvâna, quiet and unmoved, free from sorrow." Yasas hearing Buddha's exhortation, there rose much joy within his heart. And in the place of the disgust he felt, the cooling streams of holy wisdom found their way, as when one enters first a cold pellucid lake. Advancing then, he came where Buddha was--his person decked with common ornaments, his mind already freed from all defects; by power of the good root obtained in other births, he quickly reached the fruit of an Arhat. The secret light of pure wisdom's virtue enabled him to understand, on listening to the law; just as a pure silken fabric with ease is dyed a different color. Thus having attained to self-illumination, and done that which was to be done, he was converted; then looking at his person richly ornamented, his heart was filled with shame. Tathâgata knowing his inward thoughts, in gâthas spoke the following words: "Though ornamented with jewels, the heart may yet have conquered sense; looking with equal mind on all that lives, in such a case the outward form does not affect religion; the body, too, may wear the ascetic's garb, the heart, meanwhile, be immersed in worldly thoughts; dwelling in lonely woods, yet covetous of worldly show, such men are after all mere worldlings; the body may have a worldly guise, the heart mount high to things celestial. The layman and the hermit are the same, when only both have banished thought of 'self,' but if the heart be twined with carnal bonds, what use the marks of bodily attention? He who wears martial decorations, does so because by valor he has triumphed o'er an enemy--so he who wears the hermit's colored robe, does so for having vanquished sorrow as his foe." Then he bade him come, and be a member of his church; and at the bidding, lo! his garments changed! and he stood wholly attired in hermit's dress, complete; in heart and outward look, a Sramana. Now Yasas had in former days some light companions, in number fifty and four; when these beheld their friend a hermit, they, too, one by one, attained true wisdom. By virtue of deeds done in former births, these deeds now bore their perfect fruit. Just as when burning ashes are sprinkled by water, the water being dried, the flame bursts forth. So now, with those above, the disciples were altogether sixty, all Arhats; entirely obedient and instructed in the law of perfect discipleship. So perfected he taught them further:--"Now ye have passed the stream and reached 'the other shore,' across the sea of birth and death; what should be done, ye now have done! and ye may now receive the charity of others. Go then through every country, convert those not yet converted; throughout the world that lies burnt up with sorrow, teach everywhere; instruct those lacking right instruction. Go, therefore! each one travelling by himself; filled with compassion, go! rescue and receive. I too will go alone, back to yonder Kia-ke mountain; where there are great Rishis, royal Rishis, Brahman Rishis too, these all dwell there, influencing men according to their schools. The Rishi Kâsyapa, enduring pain, reverenced by all the country, making converts too of many, him will I visit and convert." Then the sixty Bhikshus respectfully receiving orders to preach, each according to his fore-determined purpose, following his inclination, went through every land. The honored of the world went on alone, till he arrived at the Kia-ke mountain, then entering a retired religious dell, he came to where the Rishi Kâsyapa was. Now this one had a "fire grot" where he offered sacrifice, where an evil Nâga dwelt, who wandered here and there in search of rest, through mountains and wild places of the earth. The honored of the world, wishing to instruct this hermit and convert him, asked him, on coming, for a place to lodge that night. Kâsyapa, replying, spake to Buddha thus:--"I have no resting-place to offer for the night, only this fire grot where I sacrifice; this is a cool and fit place for the purpose, but an evil dragon dwells there, who is accustomed, as he can, to poison men." Buddha replied, "Permit me only, and for the night I'll take my dwelling there." Kâsyapa made many difficulties, but the world-honored one still asked the favor. Then Kâsyapa addressed Buddha, "My mind desires no controversy, only I have my fears and apprehensions, but follow you your own good pleasure." Buddha forthwith stepped within the fiery grot, and took his seat with dignity and deep reflection; and now the evil Nâga seeing Buddha, belched forth in rage his fiery poison, and filled the place with burning vapor. But this could not affect the form of Buddha. Throughout the abode the fire consumed itself, the honored of the world still sat composed: Even as Brahma, in the midst of the kalpa-fire that burns and reaches to the Brahma heavens, still sits unmoved, without a thought of fear or apprehension, so Buddha sat; the evil Nâga seeing him, his face glowing with peace, and still unchanged, ceased his poisonous blast, his heart appeased; he bent his head and worshipped. Kâsyapa in the night seeing the fire-glow, sighed:--"Ah! alas! what misery! this most distinguished man is also burnt up by the fiery Nâga." Then Kâsyapa and his followers at morning light came one and all to look. Now Buddha having subdued the evil Nâga, had straightway placed him in his pâtra, beholding which, and seeing the power of Buddha, Kâsyapa conceived within him deep and secret thoughts:--"This Gotama," he thought, "is deeply versed in religion, but still he said, 'I am a master of religion.'" Then Buddha, as occasion offered, displayed all kinds of spiritual changes, influencing Kâsyapa's heart-thoughts, changing and subduing them, making his mind pliant and yielding, until at length prepared to be a vessel of the true law, he confessed that his poor wisdom could not compare with the complete wisdom of the world-honored one. And so, convinced at last, humbly submitting, he accepted right instruction. Thus U-pi-lo Uravilva Kâsyapa, and five hundred of his followers following their master, virtuously submissive, in turn received the teaching of the law. Kâsyapa and all his followers were thus entirely converted. The Rishi then, taking his goods and all his sacrificial vessels, threw them together in the river, which floated down upon the surface of the current. Nadi and Gada, brothers, who dwelt down the stream, seeing these articles of clothing and the rest floating along the stream disorderly, said, "Some great change has happened," and deeply pained, were restlessly concerned. The two, each with five hundred followers, going up the stream to seek their brother. Seeing him now dressed as a hermit, and all his followers with him, having got knowledge of the miraculous law--strange thoughts engaged their minds--"our brother having submitted thus, we too should also follow him." Thus the three brothers, with all their band of followers, were brought to hear the lord's discourse on the comparison of a fire sacrifice: and in the discourse he taught, "How the dark smoke of ignorance arises, whilst confused thoughts, like wood drilled into wood, create the fire. Lust, anger, delusion, these are as fire produced, and these inflame and burn all living things. Thus the fire of grief and sorrow, once enkindled, ceases not to burn, ever giving rise to birth and death; but whilst this fire of sorrow ceases not, yet are there two kinds of fire, one that burns but has no fuel left. So when the heart of man has once conceived distaste for sin, this distaste removing covetous desire, covetous desire extinguished, there is rescue; if once this rescue has been found, then with it is born sight and knowledge, by which distinguishing the streams of birth and death, and practising pure conduct, all is done that should be done, and hereafter shall be no more life." Thus the thousand Bhikshus hearing the world-honored preach, all defects forever done away, their minds found perfect and complete deliverance. Then Buddha for the Kâsyapas' sakes, and for the benefit of the thousand Bhikshus, having preached, and done all that should be done, himself with purity and wisdom and all the concourse of high qualities excellently adorned, he gave them, as in charity, rules for cleansing sense. The great Rishi, listening to reason, lost all regard for bodily austerities, and, as a man without a guide, was emptied of himself, and learned discipleship. And now the honored one and all his followers go forward to the royal city (Râgagriha), remembering, as he did, the Magadha king, and what he heretofore had promised. The honored one when he arrived, remained within the "staff grove"; Bimbisâra Râga hearing thereof, with all his company of courtiers, lords and ladies all surrounding him, came to where the master was. Then at a distance seeing Buddha seated, with humbled heart and subdued presence, putting off his common ornaments, descending from his chariot, forward he stepped; even as Sakra, king of gods, going to where Brahmadeva-râga dwells. Bowing down at Buddha's feet, he asked him, with respect, about his health of body; Buddha in his turn, having made inquiries, begged him to be seated on one side. Then the king's mind reflected silently:--"This Sâkya must have great controlling power, to subject to his will these Kâsyapas who now are round him as disciples." Buddha, knowing all thoughts, spoke thus to Kâsyapa, questioning him:--"What profit have you found in giving up your fire-adoring law?" Kâsyapa hearing Buddha's words, rising with dignity before the great assembly, bowed lowly down, and then with clasped hands and a loud voice addressing Buddha, said:--"The profit I received, adoring the fire spirit, was this--continuance in the wheel of life, birth and death, with all their sorrows growing--this service I have therefore cast away. Diligently I persevered in fire-worship, seeking to put an end to the five desires, in return I found desires endlessly increasing: therefore have I cast off this service. Sacrificing thus to fire with many Mantras, I did but miss escape from birth; receiving birth, with it came all its sorrows, therefore I cast it off and sought for rest. I was versed, indeed, in self-affliction, my mode of worship largely adopted, and counted of all most excellent, and yet I was opposed to highest wisdom. Therefore have I discarded it, and gone in quest of the supreme Nirvâna. Removing from me birth, old age, disease, and death, I sought a place of undying rest and calm. And as I gained the knowledge of this truth, then I cast off the law of worshipping the fire."

At this time Bimbisâra Râga, bowing his head, requested the honored of the world to change his place of abode for the bamboo grove; graciously accepting it, Buddha remained silent. Then the king, having perceived the truth, offered his adoration and returned to his palace. The world-honored, with the great congregation, proceeded on foot, to rest for awhile in the bamboo garden. There he dwelt to convert all that breathed, to kindle once for all the lamp of wisdom, to establish Brahma and the Devas, and to confirm the lives of saints and sages. At this time Asvagit and Vâshpa, with heart composed and every sense subdued, the time having come for begging food, entered into the town of Râgagriha. Unrivalled in the world were they for grace of person, and in dignity of carriage excelling all. The lords and ladies of the city seeing them, were filled with joy; those who were walking stood still, those before waited, those behind hastened on. Now the Rishi Kapila amongst all his numerous disciples had one of wide-spread fame, whose name was Sâriputra; he, beholding the wonderful grace of the Bhikshus, their composed mien and subdued senses, their dignified walk and carriage, raising his hands, inquiring, said: "Young in years, but pure and graceful in appearance, such as I before have never seen. What law most excellent have you obeyed? and who your master that has taught you? and what the doctrine you have learned? Tell me, I pray you, and relieve my doubts." Then of the Bhikshus, one, rejoicing at his question, with pleasing air and gracious words, replied: "The omniscient, born of the Ikshvâku family, the very first 'midst gods and men, this one is my great master. I am indeed but young, the sun of wisdom has but just arisen, how can I then explain the master's doctrine? Its meaning is deep and very hard to understand, but now, according to my poor wisdom, I will recount in brief the master's doctrine:--'Whatever things exist all spring from cause, the principles of birth and death may be destroyed, the way is by the means he has declared.'" Then the twice-born Upata, embracing heartily what he had heard, put from him all sense-pollution, and obtained the pure eyes of the law. The former explanations he had trusted, respecting cause and what was not the cause that there was nothing that was made, but was made by Isvara; all this, now that he had heard the rule of true causation, understanding the wisdom of the no-self, adding thereto the knowledge of the minute dust troubles, which can never be overcome in their completeness but by the teaching of Tathâgata, all this he now forever put away; leaving no room for thought of self, the thought of self will disappear. Who, when the brightness of the sun gives light, would call for the dimness of the lamp? for, like the severing the lotus, the stem once cut, the pods will also die. "So Buddha's teaching cutting off the stem of sorrow, no seeds are left to grow or lead to further increase." Then bowing at the Bhikshu's feet, with grateful mien, he wended homewards. The Bhikshus after having begged their food, likewise went back to the bamboo grove. Sâriputra on his arrival home rested with joyful face and full of peace. His friend, the honored Mugalin, equally renowned for learning, seeing Sâriputra in the distance, his pleasing air and lightsome step, spoke thus:--"As I now see thee, there is an unusual look I notice; your former nature seems quite changed, the signs of happiness I now observe, all indicate the possession of eternal truth: these marks are not uncaused." Answering he said: "The words of the Tathâgata are such as never yet were spoken," and then, requested, he declared what he had heard. Hearing the words and understanding them, he too put off the world's defilement, and gained the eyes of true religion, the reward of a long-planted virtuous cause; and, as one sees by a lamp that comes to hand, so he obtained an unmoved faith in Buddha; and now they both set out for Buddha's presence, with a large crowd of followers. Buddha seeing the two worthies coming, thus spoke to his disciples:--"These two men who come shall be my two most eminent followers, one unsurpassed for wisdom, the other for powers miraculous." And then with Brahma's voice, profound and sweet, he forthwith bade them "Welcome!" Here is the pure and peaceful law, he said; here the end of all discipleship! Their hands grasping the triple-staff, their twisted hair holding the water-vessel, hearing the words of Buddha's welcome, they forthwith changed into complete Sramanas; the leaders two and all their followers, assuming the complete appearance of Bhikshus, with prostrate forms fell down at Buddha's feet, then rising, sat beside him, and with obedient heart listening to the word, they all became Arhats. At this time there was a twice-born sage, Kâsyapa Shi-ming-teng, celebrated and perfect in person, rich in possessions, and his wife most virtuous. But all this he had left and become a hermit, seeking the way of salvation. And now in the way by the To-tseu tower he suddenly encountered Sâkya Muni, remarkable for his dignified and illustrious appearance, as the embroidered flag of a temple. Respectfully and reverently approaching, with head bowed down, he worshipped his feet, whilst he said: "Truly, honored one, you are my teacher, and I am your follower: much and long time have I been harassed with doubts, oh! would that you would light the lamp of knowledge." Buddha knowing that this twice-born sage was heartily desirous of finding the best mode of escape, with soft and pliant voice, he bade him come and welcome. Hearing his bidding and his heart complying, losing all listlessness of body or spirit, his soul embraced the terms of this most excellent salvation. Quiet and calm, putting away defilement, the great merciful, as he alone knew how, briefly explained the mode of this deliverance, exhibiting the secrets of his law, ending with the four indestructible acquirements. The great sage, everywhere celebrated, was called Mahâ Kâsyapa. His original faith was that "body and soul are different," but he had also held that they are the same; that there was both "I" and a place for "I"; but now he forever cast away his former faith, and considered only that "sorrow" is ever accumulating; so by removing sorrow there will be "no remains"; obedience to the precepts and the practice of discipline, though not themselves the cause, yet he considered these the necessary mode by which to find deliverance. With equal and impartial mind, he considered the nature of sorrow, for evermore freed from a cleaving heart. Whether we think "this is" or "this is not" he thought, both tend to produce a listless, idle mode of life. But when with equal mind we see the truth, then certainty is produced and no more doubt. If we rely for support on wealth or form, then wild confusion and concupiscence result: inconstant and impure. But lust and covetous desire removed, the heart of love and equal thoughts produced, there can be then no enemies or friends, but the heart is pitiful and kindly disposed to all, and thus is destroyed the power of anger and of hate. Trusting to outward things and their relationships, then crowding thoughts of every kind are gendered. Reflecting well, and crushing out confusing thought, then lust for pleasure is destroyed. Though born in the Arûpa world he saw that there would be a remnant of life still left; unacquainted with the four right truths, he had felt an eager longing for this deliverance, for the quiet resulting from the absence of all thought. And now putting away forever covetous desire for such a formless state of being, his restless heart was agitated still, as the stream is excited by the rude wind. Then entering on deep reflection in quiet he subdued his troubled mind, and realized the truth of there being no "self," and that therefore birth and death are no realities; but beyond this point he rose not: his thought of "self" destroyed, all else was lost. But now the lamp of wisdom lit, the gloom of every doubt dispersed, he saw an end to that which seemed without an end; ignorance finally dispelled, he considered the ten points of excellence; the ten seeds of sorrow destroyed, he came once more to life, and what he ought to do, he did. And now regarding with reverence the face of his lord, he put away the three and gained the three; so were there three disciples in addition to the three; and as the three stars range around the Trayastrimsas heaven, waiting upon the three and five, so the three wait on Buddha.

"Now you have seen the true doctrine, your guileless heart loves to exercise its charity: for wealth and money are inconstant treasures, 'twere better quickly to bestow such things on others. For when a treasury has been burnt, whatever precious things may have escaped the fire, the wise man, knowing their inconstancy, gives freely, doing acts of kindness with his saved possessions. But the niggard guards them carefully, fearing to lose them, worn by anxiety, but never fearing 'inconstancy,' and that accumulated sorrow, when he loses all! There is a proper time and a proper mode in charity; just as the vigorous warrior goes to battle, so is the man 'able to give'--he also is an able warrior; a champion strong and wise in action. The charitable man is loved by all, well-known and far-renowned! his friendship prized by the gentle and the good, in death his heart at rest and full of joy! He suffers no repentance, no tormenting fear, nor is he born a wretched ghost or demon! this is the opening flower of his reward, the fruit that follows--hard to conjecture! In all the six conditions born there is no sweet companion like pure charity; if born a Deva or a man, then charity brings worship and renown on every hand; if born among the lower creatures, the result of charity will follow in contentment got; wisdom leads the way to fixed composure without dependence and without number, and if we even reach the immortal path, still by continuous acts of charity we fulfil ourselves in consequence of kindly charity done elsewhere. Training ourselves in the eightfold path of recollection, in every thought the heart is filled with joy; firm fixed in holy contemplation, by meditation still we add to wisdom, able to see aright the cause of birth and death; having beheld aright the cause of these, then follows in due order perfect deliverance. The charitable man discarding earthly wealth, nobly excludes the power of covetous desire; loving and compassionate now, he gives with reverence and banishes all hatred, envy, anger. So plainly may we see the fruit of charity, putting away all covetous and unbelieving ways, the bands of sorrow all destroyed: this is the fruit of kindly charity. Know then! the charitable man has found the cause of final rescue; even as the man who plants the sapling thereby secures the shade, the flowers, the fruit of the tree full grown; the result of charity is even so, its reward is joy and the great Nirvâna. The charity which un-stores wealth leads to returns of well-stored fruit. Giving away our food we get more strength, giving away our clothes we get more beauty, founding religious rest-places we reap the perfect fruit of the best charity. There is a way of giving, seeking pleasure by it; there is a way of giving, coveting to get more; some also give away to get a name for charity, others to get the happiness of heaven, others to avoid the pain of being poor hereafter, but yours, O friend! is a charity without such thoughts: the highest and the best degree of charity, without self-interest or thought of getting more. What your heart inclines you now to do, let it be quickly done and well completed! The uncertain and the lustful heart goes wandering here and there, but the pure eyes of virtue opening, the heart comes back and rests!" The nobleman accepting Buddha's teaching, his kindly heart receiving yet more light.

Having instructed his mother in heaven with all the angel host, and once more returned to men, he went about converting those capable of it. Gutika, Gîvaka, Sula, and Kûrna, the noble's son Anga and the son of the fearless king Abhaya Nyagrodha and the rest; Srîkutaka, Upâli the Nirgrantha; all these were thoroughly converted. So also the king of Gandhâra, whose name was Fo-kia-lo; he, having heard the profound and excellent law, left his country and became a recluse. So also the demons Himapati and Vâtagiri, on the mountain Vibhâra, were subdued and converted. The Brahmakârin Prayantika, on the mountain Vagana, by the subtle meaning of half a gâtha, he convinced and caused to rejoice in faith; the village of Dânamati had one Kûtadanta, the head of the twice-born Brahmans; at this time he was sacrificing countless victims; Tathâgata by means converted him, and caused him to enter the true path. On Mount Bhatika a heavenly being of eminent distinction, whose name was Pañkasikha, receiving the law, attained Dhyâna; in the village of Vainushta, he converted the mother of the celebrated Nanda. In the town of Añkavari, he subdued the powerful mahâbâla spirit; Bhanabhadra, Sronadanta, the malevolent and powerful Nâgas, the king of the country and his harem, received together the true law, as he opened to them the gate of immortality. In the celebrated Viggi village, Kina and Sila, earnestly seeking to be born in heaven, he converted and made to enter the right path. The Angulimâla, in that village of Sumu, through the exhibition of his divine power, he converted and subdued; there was that noble's son, Purigîvana, rich in wealth and stores as Punavatî, directly he was brought to Buddha, accepting the doctrine, he became vastly liberal. So in that village of Padatti he converted the celebrated Patali, and also Patala, brothers, and both demons. In Bhidhavali there were two Brahmans, one called Great-age, the other Brahma-age. These by the power of a discourse he subdued, and caused them to attain knowledge of the true law; when he came to Vaisâlî, he converted all the Raksha demons, and the lion of the Likkhavis, and all the Likkhavis, Saka the Nirgrantha, all these he caused to attain the true law. Hama kinkhava had a demon Potala, and another Potalaka, these he converted. Again he came to Mount Ala, to convert the demon Alava, and a second called Kumâra, and a third Asidaka; then going back to Mount Gaga he converted the demon Kañgana, and Kamo the Yaksha, with the sister and son. Then coming to Benares, he converted the celebrated Katyâyana; then afterwards going, by his miraculous power, to Sruvala, he converted the merchants Davakin and Nikin, and received their sandalwood hall, exhaling its fragrant odors till now. Going then to Mahîvatî, he converted the Rishi Kapila, and the Muni remained with him; his foot stepping on the stone, the thousand-spoked twin-wheels appeared, which never could be erased.

Then he came to the place Po-lo-na, where he converted the demon Po-lo-na; coming to the country of Mathurâ, he converted the demon Godama. In the Thurakusati he also converted Pindapâla; coming to the village of Vairañga, he converted the Brahman; in the village of Kalamasa, he converted Savasasin, and also that celebrated Agirivasa. Once more returning to the Srâvastî country, he converted the Gautamas Gâtisruna and Dakâtili; returning to the Kosala country, he converted the leaders of the heretics Vakrapali and all the Brahmakârins. Coming to Satavaka, in the forest retreat, he converted the heretical Rishis, and constrained them to enter the path of the Buddha Rishi. Coming to the country of Ayodhyâ, he converted the demon Nâgas; coming to the country of Kimbila, he converted the two Nâgarâgas; one called Kimbila, the other called Kâlaka. Again coming to the Vaggi country, he converted the Yaksha demon, whose name was Pisha, the father and mother of Nâgara, and the great noble also, he caused to believe gladly in the true law. Coming to the Kausârubî country, he converted Goshira, and the two Upasikâs, Vaguttarâ and her companion Uvari; and besides these, many others, one after the other. Coming to the country of Gandhâra he converted the Nâga Apalâla; thus in due order all these air-going, water-loving natures he completely converted and saved, as the sun when he shines upon some dark and sombre cave. At this time Devadatta, seeing the remarkable excellences of Buddha, conceived in his heart a jealous hatred; losing all power of thoughtful abstraction he ever plotted wicked schemes, to put a stop to the spread of the true law; ascending the Gridhrakûta mount he rolled down a stone to hit Buddha; the stone divided into two parts, each part passing on either side of him. Again, on the royal highway he loosed a drunken, vicious elephant. With his raised trunk trumpeting as thunder he ran, his maddened breath raising a cloud around him, his wild pace like the rushing wind, to be avoided more than the fierce tempest; his trunk and tusks and tail and feet, when touched only, brought instant death. Thus he ran through the streets and ways of Râgagriha, madly wounding and killing men; their corpses lay across the road, their brains and blood scattered afar. Then all the men and women filled with fear, remained indoors; throughout the city there was universal terror, only piteous shrieks and cries were heard; beyond the city men were running fast, hiding themselves in holes and dens. Tathâgata, with five hundred followers, at this time came towards the city; from tops of gates and every window, men, fearing for Buddha, begged him not to advance; Tathâgata, his heart composed and quiet, with perfect self-possession, thinking only on the sorrow caused by hate, his loving heart desiring to appease it, followed by guardian angel-nâgas, slowly approached the maddened elephant. The Bhikshus all deserted him, Ânanda only remained by his side; joined by every tie of duty, his steadfast nature did not shake or quail. The drunken elephant, savage and spiteful, beholding Buddha, came to himself at once, and bending, worshipped at his feet just as a mighty mountain falls to earth. With lotus hand the master pats his head, even as the moon lights up a flying cloud. And now, as he lay crouched before the master's feet, on his account he speaks some sacred words: "The elephant cannot hurt the mighty dragon, hard it is to fight with such a one; the elephant desiring so to do will in the end obtain no happy state of birth; deceived by lust, anger, and delusion, which are hard to conquer, but which Buddha has conquered. Now, then, this very day, give up this lust, this anger and delusion! You! swallowed up in sorrow's mud! if not now given up, they will increase yet more and grow."

Having arrived there, he dwelt in the famous Pâtali ketiya. Now this town of Pâtaliputra is the frontier town of Magadha, defending the outskirts of the country. Ruling the country was a Brahman of wide renown and great learning in the scriptures; and there was also an overseer of the country, to take the omens of the land with respect to rest or calamity. At this time the king of Magadha sent to that officer of inspection a messenger, to warn and command him to raise fortifications in the neighborhood of the town for its security and protection. And now the lord of the world, as they were raising the fortifications, predicted that in consequence of the Devas and spirits who protected and kept the land, the place should continue strong and free from calamity or destruction. On this the heart of the overseer greatly rejoiced, and he made religious offerings to Buddha, the law, and the church. Buddha now leaving the city gate went on towards the river Ganges. The overseer, from his deep reverence for Buddha, named the gate through which the lord had passed the "Gautama gate." Meanwhile the people all by the side of the river Ganges went forth to pay reverence to the lord of the world. They prepared for him every kind of religious offering, and each one with his gaudy boat invited him to cross over. The lord of the world, considering the number of the boats, feared lest by an appearance of partiality in accepting one, he might hurt the minds of all the rest. Therefore in a moment, by his spiritual power, he transported himself and the great congregation across the river, leaving this shore he passed at once to that, signifying thereby the passage in the boat of wisdom from this world to Nirvâna: a boat large enough to transport all that lives to save the world, even as without a boat he crossed without hindrance the river Ganges. Then all the people on the bank of the river, with one voice, raised a rapturous shout, and all declared this ford should be called the Gautama ford. As the city gate is called the Gautama gate, so this Gautama ford is so known through ages; and shall be so called through generations to come. Then Tathâgata, going forward still, came to that celebrated Kuli village, where he preached and converted many; again he went on to the Nâdi village, where many deaths had occurred among the people. The friends of the dead then came to the lord and asked, "Where have our friends and relatives deceased, now gone to be born, after this life ended?" Buddha, knowing well the sequence of deeds, answered each according to his several needs. Then going forward to Vaisâlî, he located himself in the Âmrâ grove. The celebrated Lady Âmrâ, well affected to Buddha, went to that garden followed by her waiting women, whilst the children from the schools paid her respect. Thus with circumspection and self-restraint, her person lightly and plainly clothed, putting away all her ornamented robes and all adornments of scent and flowers, as a prudent and virtuous woman goes forth to perform her religious duties, so she went on, beautiful to look upon, like any Devî in appearance. Buddha seeing the lady in the distance approaching, spake thus to all the Bhikshus:--

"Now I perfectly understand that you have in your minds unusual thoughts, not referring to worldly matters, but wholly connected with subjects of religion; and now you wish to hear from me, what may be known respecting the report about my resolve to terminate my life, and my purpose to put an end to the repetition of birth. Impermanence is the nature of all that exists, constant change and restlessness its conditions; unfixed, unprofitable, without the marks of long endurance. In ancient days the Rishi kings, Vasishtha Rishi, Mândhâtri, the Kakravartin monarchs, and the rest, these and all others like them, the former conquerors, who lived with strength like Îsvara, these all have long ago perished, not one remains till now; the sun and moon, Sakra himself, and the great multitude of his attendants, will all, without exception, perish; there is not one that can for long endure; all the Buddhas of the past ages, numerous as the sands of the Ganges, by their wisdom enlightening the world, have all gone out as a lamp; all the Buddhas yet to come will also perish in the same way; why then should I alone be different? I too will pass into Nirvana; but as they prepared others for salvation, so now should you press forward in the path; Vaisâli may be glad indeed, if you should find the way of rest! The world, in truth, is void of help, the 'three worlds' not enough for joy--stay then the course of sorrow, by engendering a heart without desire. Give up for good the long and straggling way of life, press onward on the northern track, step by step advance along the upward road, as the sun skirts along the western mountains."

Ânanda hearing the bidding of his master, his breath was choked with heart-sadness; but going and weeping he obeyed the instruction, and spreading out the mat he came forthwith back to his master and acquainted him. Tathâgata having lain down with his head towards the north and on his right side, slept thus. Resting upon his hand as on a pillow with his feet crossed, even as a lion-king; all grief is passed, his last-born body from this one sleep shall never rise. His followers round him, in a circle gathered, sigh dolefully: "The eye of the world is now put out!" The wind is hushed, the forest streams are silent, no voice is heard of bird or beast. The trees sweat out large flowing drops, flowers and leaves out of season singly fall, whilst men and Devas, not yet free from desire, are filled with overwhelming fear. Thus were they like men wandering through the arid desert, the road full dangerous, who fail to reach the longed-for hamlet; full of fear they go on still, dreading they might not find it, their heart borne down with fear they faint and droop. And now Tathâgata, aroused from sleep, addressed Ânanda thus: "Go! tell the Mallas, the time of my decease is come; they, if they see me not, will ever grieve and suffer deep regret." Ânanda listening to the bidding of his master, weeping went along the road. And then he told those Mallas all--"The lord is near to death." The Mallas hearing it, were filled with great, excessive grief. The men and women hurrying forth, bewailing as they went, came to the spot where Buddha was; with garments torn and hair dishevelled, covered with dust and sweat they came. With piteous cries they reached the grove, as when a Deva's day of merit comes to an end, so did they bow weeping and adoring at the feet of Buddha, grieving to behold his failing strength. Tathâgata, composed and quiet, spake: "Grieve not! the time is one for joy; no call for sorrow or for anguish here; that which for ages I have aimed at, now am I just about to obtain; delivered now from the narrow bounds of sense, I go to the place of never-ending rest and peace. I leave these things, earth, water, fire, and air, to rest secure where neither birth nor death can come. Eternally delivered there from grief, oh! tell me! why should I be sorrowful? Of yore on Sirsha's mount, I longed to rid me of this body, but to fulfil my destiny I have remained till now with men in the world; I have kept this sickly, crumbling body, as dwelling with a poisonous snake; but now I am come to the great resting-place, all springs of sorrow now forever stopped. No more shall I receive a body, all future sorrow now forever done away; it is not meet for you, on my account, for evermore, to encourage any anxious fear."

At this time there was a Brahmakârin whose name was Su-po-to-lo; he was well-known for his virtuous qualities, leading a pure life according to the rules of morality, and protecting all living things. When young he had adopted heretical views, and become a recluse among unbelievers--this one, wishing to see the lord, spake to Ânanda thus:--

Then Buddha, for the Brahmakârin's sake, in brief recounted the eight "right ways"--on hearing which, his empty soul accepted it, as one deceived accepts direction in the right road. Perceiving now, he knew that what he had before perceived was not the final way of salvation, but now he felt he had attained what he had not before attained, and so he gave up and forsook his books of heresy. Moreover, now he rejected the gloomy hindrances of doubt, reflecting how by his former practices, mixed up with anger, hate, and ignorance, he had long cherished no real joy. For if, he argued, the ways of lust and hate and ignorance are able to produce a virtuous karman, then "hearing much" and "persevering wisdom," these, too, are born from lust, which cannot be. But if a man is able to cut down hate and ignorance, then also he puts off all consequences of works, and these being finally destroyed, this is complete emancipation. Those thus freed from works are likewise freed from subtle questionings, such as what the world says "that all things, everywhere, possess a self-nature." But if this be the case and therefore lust, hate, and ignorance, possess a self-implanted nature, then this nature must inhere in them; what then means the word "deliverance"? For even if we rightly cause the overthrow of hate and ignorance, yet if lust remains, then there is a return of birth; even as water, cold in its nature, may by fire be heated, but when the fire goes out then it becomes cold again, because this is its constant nature; so we may ever know that the nature which lust has is permanent, and neither hearing wisdom nor perseverance can alter it. Neither capable of increase or diminution, how can there be deliverance? I held aforetime that birth and death resulted thus, from their own innate nature; but now I see that such a belief excludes deliverance; for what is born by nature must endure so, what end can such things have? Just as a burning lamp cannot but give its light; the way of Buddha is the only true one, that lust, as the root-cause, brings forth the things that live; destroy this lust then there is Nirvana; the cause destroyed then the fruit is not produced. I formerly maintained that "I" was a distinct entity, not seeing that it has no maker. But now I hear the right doctrine preached by Buddha, there is no "self" in all the world, for all things are produced by cause, and therefore there is no creator. If then sorrow is produced by cause, the cause may likewise be destroyed; for if the world is cause-produced, then is the view correct, that by destruction of the cause, there is an end. The cause destroyed, the world brought to an end, there is no room for such a thought as permanence, and therefore all my former views are "done away," and so he deeply "saw" the true doctrine taught by Buddha.

"Above all things be not careless, for carelessness is the chief foe of virtue; if a man avoid this fault he may be born where Sakra-râga dwells. He who gives way to carelessness of mind must have his lot where the Asuras dwell. Thus have I done my task, my fitting task, in setting forth the way of quietude, the proof of love. On your parts be diligent! with virtuous purpose practise well these rules, in quiet solitude of desert hermitage nourish and cherish a still and peaceful heart. Exert yourselves to the utmost, give no place to remissness, for as in worldly matters when the considerate physician prescribes fit medicine for the disease he has detected, should the sick man neglect to use it, this cannot be the physician's fault, so I have told you the truth, and set before you this the one and level road. Hearing my words and not with care obeying them, this is not the fault of him who speaks; if there be anything not clearly understood in the principles of the 'four truths,' you now may ask me, freely; let not your inward thoughts be longer hid." The lord in mercy thus instructing them, the whole assembly remained silent.

Thus up to the heavenly mansions flames burst forth; the crash of thunder shook the heavens and earth, rolling along the mountains and the valleys, even as when the Devas and Asuras fight with sound of drums and mutual conflict. A wind tempestuous from the four bounds of earth arose--whilst from the crags and hills, dust and ashes fell like rain. The sun and moon withdrew their shining; the peaceful streams on every side were torrent-swollen; the sturdy forests shook like aspen leaves, whilst flowers and leaves untimely fell around, like scattered rain. The flying dragons, carried on pitchy clouds, wept down their tears; the four kings and their associates, moved by pity, forgot their works of charity. The pure Devas came to earth from heaven, halting mid-air they looked upon the changeful scene, not sorrowing, not rejoicing. But yet they sighed to think of the world, heedless of its sacred teacher, hastening to destruction. The eightfold heavenly spirits, on every side filled space: cast down at heart and grieving, they scattered flowers as offerings. Only Mâra-râga rejoiced, and struck up sounds of music in his exultation. Whilst Gambudvipa shorn of its glory, seemed to grieve as when the mountain tops fall down to earth, or like the great elephant robbed of its tusks, or like the ox-king spoiled of his horns; or heaven without the sun and moon, or as the lily beaten by the hail; thus was the world bereaved when Buddha died!

At this time there was a Devaputra, riding on his thousand white-swan palace in the midst of space, who beheld the Parinirvâna of Buddha. This one, for the universal benefit of the Deva assembly, sounded forth at large these verses on impermanence:--

Again there was a Brahma-Rishi-deva, like a most exalted Rishi, dwelling in heaven, possessed of superior happiness, with no taint in his bliss, who thus sighed forth his praises of Tathâgata's Nirvâna, with his mind fixed in abstraction as he spoke:

"The bright-rayed Sûrya-deva, entering the Yen-tsz' cave, was, with the moon, surrounded with fivefold barriers; 'all things that live,' deprived of light, present their offerings to heaven; but from their sacrifice nought but the blackened smoke ascends; thus it is with Tathâgata, his glory hidden, the world has lost its light. Rare was the expectancy of grateful love that filled the heart of all that lives; that love, reached its full limit, then was left to perish! The cords of sorrow all removed, we found the true and only way; but now he leaves the tangled mesh of life, and enters on the quiet place! His spirit mounting through space, he leaves the sorrow-bearing vessel of his body! the gloom of doubt and the great darkness all dispelled, by the bright rays of wisdom! The earthy soil of sorrow's dust his wisdom's water purifies! no more, no more, returns he here! forever gone to the place of rest!

"And now he enters the great quiet place! no longer has the world a protector or saviour! the great army host of Mâra-râga, rousing their warrior, shaking the great earth, desired to injure the honored Muni: but they could not move him, whom in a moment now the Mâra 'inconstancy' destroys. The heavenly occupants everywhere assemble as a cloud! they fill the space of heaven, fearing the endless birth and death! their hearts are full of grief and dread! His Deva eyes clearly behold, without the limitations of near or distant, the fruits of works discerned throughout, as an image perceived in a mirror! His Deva ears perfect and discriminating throughout, hear all, though far away, mounting through space he teaches all the Devas, surpassing his method of converting men! He divides his body still one in substance, crosses the water as if it were not weak (to bear)! remembers all his former births, through countless kalpas none forgotten! His senses wandering through the fields of sense, all these distinctly remembered; knowing the wisdom learned in every state of mind, all this perfectly understood! By spiritual discernment and pure mysterious wisdom equally surveying all things! every vestige of imperfection removed! thus he has accomplished all he had to do. By wisdom rejecting other spheres of life, his wisdom now completely perfected, lo! he dies! let the world, hard and unyielding, still, beholding it, relent!

And now the warriors, clad in armor, grasping their spears and brandishing their swords 'midst the confused noise and heavy drums advanced. But ere the contest had begun, there was a certain Brahman whose name was Drona, celebrated for penetration, honored for modesty and lowliness, whose loving heart took pleasure in religion. This one addressed those kings and said: "Regarding the unequalled strength of yonder city, one man alone would be enough for its defence; how much less when with determined heart they are united, can you subdue it! In the beginning mutual strife produced destruction, how now can it result in glory or renown? The clash of swords and bloody onset done, 'tis certain one must perish! and therefore whilst you aim to vanquish those, both sides will suffer in the fray. Then there are many chances, too, of battle: 'tis hard to measure strength by appearances; the strong, indeed, may overcome the weak, the weak may also overcome the strong; the powerful champion may despise the snake, but how will he escape a wounded body? there are men whose natures bland and soft, seem suited for the company of women or of children, but when enlisted in the ranks, make perfect soldiers. As fire when it is fed with oil, though reckoned weak, is not extinguished easily, so when you say that they are weak, beware of leaning overmuch on strength of body; nought can compare with strength of right religion. There was in ancient times a Gina king, whose name was Kârandhama, his graceful upright presence caused such love in others that he could overcome all animosity; but though he ruled the world and was high renowned, and rich and prosperous, yet in the end he went back and all was lost! So when the ox has drunk enough, he too returns. Use then the principles of righteousness, use the expedients of good will and love. Conquer your foe by force, you increase his enmity; conquer by love, and you will reap no after-sorrow. The present strife is but a thirst for blood, this thing cannot be endured! If you desire to honor Buddha, follow the example of his patience and long-suffering!" Thus this Brahman with confidence declared the truth; imbued with highest principles of peace, he spake with boldness and unflinchingly.

And now the kings addressed the Brahman thus: "You have chosen a fitting time for giving increase to the seed of wisdom: the essence of true friendship is the utterance of truth. The greatest force of reason lies in righteous judgment. But now in turn hear what we say: The rules of kings are framed to avoid the use of force when hatred has arisen from low desires, or else to avoid the sudden use of violence in trifling questions where some trifling matter is at stake. But we for the sake of law are about to fight. What wonder is it! Swollen pride is a principle to be opposed, for it leads to the overthrow of society; no wonder then that Buddha preached against it, teaching men to practise lowliness and humility. Then why should we be forbidden to pay our reverence to his body-relics? In ancient days a lord of the great earth, Pih-shih-tsung and Nanda, for the sake of a beautiful woman fought and destroyed each other; how much more now, for the sake of religious reverence to our master, freed from passion, gone to Nirvâna, without regard to self, or careful of our lives, should we contend and assert our rights! A former king, Kaurava, fought with a Pândava king, and the more they increased in strength the more they struggled, all for some temporary gain; how much more for our not-coveting master should we contend, coveting to get his living relics? The son of Râma, too, the Rishi, angry with King Dasa-ratha, destroyed his country, slew the people, because of the rage he felt; how much less for our master, freed from anger, should we be niggard of our lives! Râma, for Sita's sake, killed all the demon-spirits; how much more for our lord, heaven-received, should we not sacrifice our lives! The two demons A-lai and Po-ku were ever drawn into contention; in the first place, because of their folly and ignorance, causing wide ruin among men; how much less for our all-wise master should we begrudge our lives! Wherefore if from these examples we find others ready to die for no real principle, how shall we for our teacher of gods (Devas) and men, reverenced by the universe, spare our bodies or begrudge our lives, and not be earnest in desire to make our offerings! Now then, if you desire to stay the strife, go and for us demand within the city that they open wide the relics, and so cause our prayer to be fulfilled. But because your words are right ones, we hold our anger for a while; even as the great, angry snake, by the power of charms is quieted."

And now the Brahman, having received the kings' instruction, entering the city, went to the Mallas, and saluting them, spoke these true words: "Without the city those who are kings among men grasp with their hands their martial weapons, and with their bodies clad in weighty armor wait eagerly to fight; glorious as the sun's rays, bristling with rage as the roused lion. These united are, to overthrow this city. But whilst they wage this religious war, they fear lest they may act irreligiously, and so they have sent me here to say what they require: 'We have come, not for the sake of territory, much less for money's sake, nor on account of any insolent feeling, nor yet from any thought of hatred; but because we venerate the great Rishi, we have come on this account. You, noble sirs! know well our mind! Why should there be such sorrowful contention! You honor what we honor, both alike, then we are brothers as concerns religion. We both with equal heart revere the bequeathed spiritual relics of the lord. To be miserly in hoarding wealth, this is an unreasonable fault; how much more to grudge religion, of which there is so little knowledge in the world! The exclusive and the selfishly inclined, should practise laws of hospitality; but if ye have not rules of honor such as these, then shut your gates and guard yourselves.' This is the tenor of the words, be they good or bad, spoken by them. But now for myself and my own feelings, let me add these true and sincere words:--Let there be no contention either way; reason ought to minister for peace, the lord when dwelling in the world ever employed the force of patience. Not to obey his holy teaching, and yet to offer gifts to him, is contradiction. Men of the world, for some indulgence, some wealth or land, contend and fight, but those who believe the righteous law should obediently conform their lives to it; to believe and yet to harbor enmity, this is to oppose 'religious principle' to 'conduct.' Buddha himself at rest, and full of love, desired to bestow the rest he enjoyed on all. To adore with worship the great merciful, and yet to gender wide destruction, how is this possible? Divide the relics, then, that all may worship them alike; obeying thus the law, the fame thereof widespread, then righteous principles will be diffused; but if others walk not righteously, we ought by righteous dealing to appease them, in this way showing the advantage of religion, we cause religion everywhere to take deep hold and abide. Buddha has told us that of all charity 'religious charity' is the highest; men easily bestow their wealth in charity, but hard is the charity that works for righteousness."

The Mallas hearing the Brahman's words with inward shame gazed at one another; and answered the Brahmakârin thus: "We thank you much for purposing to come to us, and for your friendly and religious counsel--speaking so well, and reasonably. Yours are words which a Brahman ought to use, in keeping with his holy character; words full of reconciliation, pointing out the proper road; like one recovering a wandering horse brings him back by the path which he had lost. We then ought to adopt the plan of reconciliation such as you have shown us; to hear the truth and not obey it brings afterwards regretful sorrow."

Then they opened out the master's relics and in eight parts equally divided them. Themselves paid reverence to one part, the other seven they handed to the Brahman; the seven kings having accepted these, rejoiced and placed them on their heads; and thus with them returned to their own country, and erected Dâgobas for worship over them. The Brahmakârin then besought the Mallas to bestow on him the relic-pitcher as his portion, and from the seven kings he requested a fragment of their relics, as an eighth share. Taking this, he returned and raised a Kaitya, which still is named "the Golden Pitcher Dâgoba." Then the men of Kusinagara collecting all the ashes of the burning, raised over them a Kaitya, and called it "the Ashes Dâgoba." The eight Stûpas of the eight kings, "the Golden Pitcher" and "the Ashes Stûpa."

Thus throughout Gambudvipa there first were raised ten Dâgobas. Then all the lords and ladies of the country holding gem-embroidered canopies, paid their offerings at the various shrines, adorning them as any golden mountain. And so with music and with dancing through the day and night they made merry, and sang. And now the Arhats numbering five hundred, having forever lost their master's presence, reflecting there was now no ground of certainty, returned to Gridhrakûta mount; assembling in King Sakra's cavern, they collected there the Sûtra Pitaka; all the assembly agreeing that the venerable Ânanda should say, for the sake of the congregation, the sermons of Tathâgata from first to last: "Great and small, whatever you have heard from the mouth of the deceased Muni."

Tobias of the tribe and city of Nephtali, (which is in the upper parts of Galilee above Naasson, beyond the way that leadeth to the west, having on the right hand the city of Sephet,)

When he was made captive in the days of Salmanasar king of the Assyrians, even in his captivity, forsook not the way of truth,

But every day gave all he could get to his brethren his fellow captives, that were of his kindred.

And when he was younger than any of the tribe of Nephtali, yet did he no childish thing in his work.

Moreover when all went to the golden calves which Jeroboam king of Israel had made, he alone fled the company of all,

And went to Jerusalem to the temple of the Lord, and there adored the Lord God of Israel, offering faithfully all his firstfruits, and his tithes,

So that in the third year he gave all his tithes to the proselytes, and strangers.

These and such like things did he observe when but a boy according to the law of God.

But when he was a man, he took to wife Anna of his own tribe, and had a son by her, whom he called after his own name,

And from his infancy he taught him to fear God, and to abstain from all sin.

And when by the captivity he with his wife and his son and all his tribe was come to the city of Ninive,

(When all ate of the meats of the Gentiles) he kept his soul and never was defiled with their meats.

And because he was mindful of the Lord with all his heart, God gave him favour in the sight of Salmanasar the king.

And he gave him leave to go whithersoever he would, with liberty to do whatever he had a mind.

He therefore went to all that were in captivity, and gave them wholesome admonitions.

And when he was come to Rages a city of the Medes, and had ten talents of silver of that with which he had been honoured by the king:

And when amongst a great multitude of his kindred, he saw Gabelus in want, who was one of his tribe, taking a note of his hand he gave him the aforesaid sum of money.

But after a long time, Salmanasar the king being dead, when Sennacherib his son, who reigned in his place, had a hatred for the children of Israel:

Tobias daily went among all his kindred and comforted them, and distributed to every one as he was able, out of his goods:

He fed the hungry, and gave clothes to the naked, and was careful to bury the dead, and they that were slain.

And when king Sennacherib was come back, fleeing from Judea by reason of the slaughter that God had made about him for his blasphemy, and being angry slew many of the children of Israel, Tobias buried their bodies.

But when it was told the king, he commanded him to be slain, and took away all his substance.

But Tobias fleeing naked away with his son and with his wife, lay concealed, for many loved him.

But after forty-five days, the king was killed by his own sons.

And Tobias returned to his house, and all his substance was restored to him.

But after this, when there was a festival of the Lord, and a good dinner was prepared in Tobias's house,

He said to his son: Go, and bring some of our tribe that fear God, to feast with us.

And when he had gone, returning he told him, that one of the children of Israel lay slain in the street. And he forthwith leaped up from his place at the table, and left his dinner, and came fasting to the body.

And taking it up carried it privately to his house, that after the sun was down, he might bury him cautiously.

And when he had hid the body, he ate bread with mourning and fear,

Remembering the word which the Lord spoke by Amos the prophet: Your festival days shall be turned into lamentation and mourning.

So when the sun was down, he went and buried him.

Now all his neighbours blamed him, saying: once already commandment was given for thee to be slain because of this matter, and thou didst scarce escape the sentence of death, and dost thou again bury the dead?

But Tobias fearing God more than the king, carried off the bodies of them that were slain, and hid them in his house, and at midnight buried them.

Now it happened one day that being wearied with burying, he came to his house, and cast himself down by the wall and slept,

And as he was sleeping, hot dung out of a swallow's nest fell upon his eyes, and he was made blind.

Now this trial the Lord therefore permitted to happen to him, that an example might be given to posterity of his patience, as also of holy Job.

For whereas he had always feared God from his infancy, and kept his commandments, he repined not against God because the evil of blindness had befallen him,

But continued immoveable in the fear of God, giving thanks to God all the days of his life.

For as the kings insulted over holy Job: so his relations and kinsmen mocked at his life, saying:

Where is thy hope, for which thou gavest alms, and buriedst the dead?

But Tobias rebuked them, saying: Speak not so:

For we are the children of saints, and look for that life which God will give to those that never change their faith from him.

Now Anna his wife went daily to weaving work, and she brought home what she could get for their living by the labour of her hands.

Whereby it came to pass, that she received a young kid, and brought it home:

And when her husband heard it bleating, he said: Take heed, lest perhaps it be stolen: restore ye it to its owners, for it is not lawful for us either to eat or to touch any thing that cometh by theft.

At these words his wife being angry answered: It is evident the hope is come to nothing, and thy alms now appear.

And with these and other such like words, she upbraided him.

Then Tobias sighed, and began to pray with tears,

Saying, Thou art just, O Lord, and all thy judgments are just, and all thy ways mercy, and truth, and judgment:

And now, O Lord, think of me, and take not revenge of my sins, neither remember my offences, nor those of my parents.

For we have not obeyed thy commandments, therefore are we delivered to spoil and to captivity, and death, and are made a fable, and a reproach to all nations, amongst which thou hast scattered us.

And now, O Lord, great are thy judgments, because we have not done according to thy precepts, and have not walked sincerely before thee.

And now, O Lord, do with me according to thy will, and command my spirit to be received in peace: for it is better for me to die, than to live.

Now it happened on the same day, that Sara daughter of Raguel, in Rages a city of the Medes, received a reproach from one of her father's servant maids,

Because she had been given to seven husbands and a devil named Asmodeus had killed them, at their first going in unto her.

So when she reproved the maid for her fault, she answered her, saying: May we never see son, or daughter of thee upon the earth, thou murderer of thy husbands.

Wilt thou kill me also, as thou hast already killed seven husbands? At these words, she went into an upper chamber of her house: and for three days and three nights did neither eat nor drink:

But continuing in prayer with tears besought God, that he would deliver her from this reproach.

And it came to pass on the third day when she was making an end of her prayer, blessing the Lord,

She said: Blessed is thy name, O God of our fathers, who when thou hast been angry, wilt shew mercy, and in the time of tribulation forgivest the sins of them that call upon thee.

To thee, O Lord, I turn my face, to thee I direct my eyes.

I beg, O Lord, that thou loose me from the bond of this reproach, or else take me away from the earth.

Thou knowest, O Lord, that I never coveted a husband, and have kept my soul clean from all lust.

Never have I joined myself with them that play: neither have I made myself partaker with them that walk in lightness.

But a husband I consented to take, with thy fear, not with my lust.

And either I was unworthy of them, or they perhaps were not worthy of me: because perhaps thou hast kept me for another man,

For thy counsel is not in man's power.

But this every one is sure of that worshippeth thee, that his life, if it be under trial, shall be crowned and if it be under tribulation, it shall be delivered: and if it be under correction, it shall be allowed to come to thy mercy.

For thou art not delighted in our being lost, because after a storm thou makest a calm, and after tears and weeping thou pourest in joyfulness.

Be thy name, O God of Israel, blessed for ever,