At all events, whatever be its origin and meaning, no other prayer used by human beings in any quarter of the globe is repeated so often. Every Tibetan believes it to be a panacea for all evil, a compendium of all knowledge, a treasury of all wisdom, a summary of all religion. But if you ask Northern Buddhists to give you the reason for this belief, very few are able to give an intelligible reply. According to the most learned doctors of philosophy who are to be found in Tibetan monasteries, it is certainly addressed to their patron deity Avalokiteṡvara, and the real secret of its efficacy lies in the fact, that each one of its six syllables has a potent influence on some one of the sixGatisor courses of being—that is to say, on some one of the six kinds of transmigration or transformation through which every living individual has to pass (seep. 121)[176].
The oftener, therefore, this mystical formula is repeated the shorter will be an individual’s course (gati) through some of these six forms of existence, every one of which involves misery or evil. Or it may be that by repeating it he will be able to escape some of the six existences altogether.
Strange indeed as it may appear to us, it is impossible to shake the faith of a Lāmistic Buddhist in theabsolutely infallible efficacy of his six favourite mystic syllables. He repeats them, not at all as if he were praying in a Christian sense, but as if he were a farmer intent on planting the very best seed in the most productive soil, and watering it incessantly according to the most scientific principles of irrigation. A bountiful harvest is absolutely certain to reward his efforts.
It need not, therefore, surprise us if these six syllables are murmured morning, noon, and night, by every man, woman, and child, wherever the Lāmistic Hierarchy has extended. And, if not repeated by the voice, an incessant stream of repetition—an incessant scattering of the six mystic seeds—is kept going by the hand.
The words are written or printed on roll within roll of paper and inscribed in cylinders, which, when made to revolve either by educated monks or by illiterate laymen, have the same efficacy as if they were actually said or repeated. The revolutions are credited as so much prayer-merit, or, to speak more scientifically, as so muchprayer-force, accumulated and stored up for the benefit of the person who revolves them.
The cylinder is generally made of metal, the prayer being engraved on the outside, as well as written on paper and inserted inside. It is held in the right hand and whirled round, like a child’s toy, by means of a handle in a particular direction (with the sun). If made to revolve the other way, its rotations will be set down to the debtor rather than the creditor side of the owner’s account. Here is a drawing of one of several hand-cylinders (commonly called prayer-wheels orprayer-mills; Tibetan, Ćhos-kor or Ćhos-kyi or Khor-lo), obtained by me at Dārjīling:—
Then, again, the words of the prayer are written or printed millions and millions of times on rolls or strips of paper, and enclosed in much larger barrel-like cylinders, which are set up in temples, chapels, monasteries, corridors, passages, houses, villages, by the road side, and in every possible corner, for the convenience of the mass of the people who are too ignorant to read, and too indolent to engage in continuous oral repetition[177].
It sometimes happens that quarrels arise from rival claims in regard to the use of such prayer-cylinders. In illustration of this an amusing story is told by the French missionaries:—
One day when they happened to be passing a praying-machine, set up near a monastery, they saw two Lāmas engaged in a violent quarrel; and, as it appeared, all on account of their zeal for their prayers. The fact was that one Lāma had come, and, having set the barrel in motion for his own benefit, was retiring modestly and complacently to his own abode, when happening to turn his head to enjoy the spectacle of the wheel’s pious revolutions, he saw the other Lāma stop it, and set it whirling again for himself. Indignant, of course, at this unwarrantable interference with his own devotions, he ran back, and in his turn put a stop to his rival’s piety, and both of them continued this kind of demonstration for some time, till at last losing patience they proceeded to menaces, and then to blows, when an old Lāma came out of a neighbouring cell, and brought the difficulty to a peaceful termination by himself twirling the prayer-barrel for the benefit of both parties.
On the occasion of my visiting Dārjīling in 1884, I was desirous of judging for myself of the method of using these remarkable instruments of religion. I therefore, soon after my arrival, walked to a Buddhist temple near the town. There I found several large barrel-like cylinders set up close together in a row at the entrance, so that no one might pass in without giving them at least one twirl, or by a rapid sweep of his hand might set them all twirling at once. Inside the entrance-portico a shrivelled and exceptionally hideous old woman was seated on the ground. In her left hand she held a small portable prayer-cylinder,which she kept in perpetual revolution. In her right hand was a cord connected with a huge barrel-like cylinder, which with some exertion she made to rotate on its axis by help of a crank, while she kept mutteringOm maṇi pamme Hūm(so she pronounced it) with amazing rapidity. In this way she completed at least sixty oral repetitions every minute, without reckoning the infinite number of rotatory repetitions accomplished simultaneously by her two hands. And all this was done with an appearance of apathy and mental vacuity in her withered face, which was so distressing and melancholy to behold, that the spectacle will never be effaced from my memory. In truth the venerable dame seemed to be sublimely unconscious that any effort of thought or concentration of either mind or heart was needed to make prayer of any value at all.
And the men of Tibet are quite as much slaves to this superstition as the women. A friend of mine when staying at Dārjīling had some conversation on serious subjects with an apparently sensible native, and observed with surprise that all the while he was engaged in talking with the Buddhist, the latter continued diligently whirling a prayer-cylinder with great velocity. My friend, being unacquainted with Tibetan customs, came away from his colloquy under the impression that Buddhists regard Christians as dangerous lunatics possessed with evil spirits, which require specially active measures in the way of exorcism. It did not occur to him that the Buddhist was merely intent on redeeming every instant of time for the purpose of storing up merit by prayer.
And the hold which this extraordinary superstition has upon the population is still more forcibly impressed on the traveller who penetrates into the regions beyond Dārjīling. He may there see immense prayer-cylinders set up like mills, and kept in incessant revolution, not by the will or hand of man, but by the blind, unconscious force of wind and water.
It is even said that great mechanical ingenuity is displayed by the monks in some parts of Tibet, their inventive powers being stimulated by a burning desire to economize time and labour in the production of prayer-merit by machinery.
An intricate arrangement of huge wheels and other wheels within wheels, like the works of a clock, is connected with rows of cylinders and made to revolve rapidly by means of heavy weights. An infinite number of prayers are repeated in this manner by a single monk, who takes a minute or two to wind up the complicated spiritual machinery, and then hastens to help his brothers in industrial occupations—the whole fraternity feeling that the ingenious contrivance of praying by clock-work enables them to promote the common weal by making the most of both worlds. The story goes that, in times of special need and emergency, additional weights are attached to the machinery, and, of course, increased cogency given to the rotatory prayers. It is to be hoped that when European inventions find their way across the Himālayas, steam-power may not be pressed into the service of these gross superstitions.
The use of prayer-wheels of various kinds is also common in Japan, as described in Sir Edward Reed’s work.
But praying by machinery is not all. Beneficial results are believed to accrue through the carving of the all-powerful six syllables on every conceivable object.
The traveller, as he walks along, sees the mystic words impressed on the stones at his feet, on rocks, doors, monuments, and trees. Indeed, rich and zealous Buddhists maintain at their own expense, companies of Lāmas for the sole object of propagating the Maṇi-padme formula. These strange missionaries may occasionally be encountered, chisel and hammer in hand, traversing field, hill, dale, and desert, their only mission being to engrave the sacred six syllables on every rock in their path (Huc, ii. 194).
Absolutely incalculable is the grand total of Maṇi-padmes thus placed to the credit of the world of living beings during the short space of twenty-four hours. Yet, at the end of the New Year’s festival in Tibet, the chief Lāma will sometimes pretend to proclaim the exact sum of mystic syllables supposed to have been repeated during its continuance, amounting perhaps to billions upon billions, for the consolation of all those faithful Buddhists who, oppressed by the evils of life, are seeking for some antidote.
But the ‘jewel-lotus’ is not the only antidote. There are other short prayer-formularies, such as Om Vajra-pāṇi-Hūm (addressed to the Bodhi-sattva Vajra-pāṇi,p. 201), and other still more mystical ejaculations (such as Om ah Hūm); and magical sentences, called Dhāranī, and profoundly significant monosyllables, such as Ram, Phaṭ, Hṛim, Hṛīm, Ṛim, Ṛīm, Hṛīs.
And here in connexion with the ubiquity of prayer-formularies,we must not omit to notice thePraying-walls, that is, the long stone walls or banks called (from the ‘jewel-lotus’ prayer inscribed upon them)Maṇi[178], or in the provincial dialect Man Dang (variously Man-dong, Mendong).
These remarkable stone-structures, peculiar to Lāmism, are erected by the side of high-roads, and in frequented thoroughfares, with the simple object of aiding in the accumulation of prayer-merit. Some are only a few feet long, six feet high, and from six to twelve feet broad; others have been met with nearly 1000 yards long, with pyramidal Stūpas[179]or Ćaityas (in Tibetan Ćhortens) at each end. Inserted in these walls are slabs on which the six-syllabled, and other prayer-formulas, and sometimes images of saints, are carved and dedicated as votive offerings. Passing travellers acquire merit by keeping them on their left side[180], so that they may follow the letters of the inscription without necessarily repeating the words[181].
In the same connexion we may advert toPraying-flagsandPraying-staffs. And I may mention that, while staying at Dārjīling, I visited a village to which a monastery is attached, and, on approaching the spot, was surprised to see the whole neighbourhood studded with poles from which long flags were flying. On the topsof the poles were curious ornaments like caps, made of coloured cloth with flounces. I naturally supposed that I had arrived on a gala day, and that at least a great Lāma or other high functionary was expected, perhaps to lay the first stone of some new building connected with the monastery. On inquiry, however, I ascertained that there was nothing unusual about the appearance of the village, which was merely praying, according to custom, by means of its flag-staffs. Every time the wind, which happened to be blowing fresh, extended the long flags, a vast number of prayers were credited to the inhabitants who were themselves all absent, and probably hard at work either in the fields or at Dārjīling.
I managed to obtain facsimiles of some of the flags. On them are inscribed various versions of the inevitable Maṇi-padme formulary, together with figures of the ‘flying-horse’ (Lungta, strictly rLuṅ-rta, ‘wind-horse’)[182]and other symbols, such as those of the Norbu gem[183]and of the Phurbu—which are held to be peculiarly efficacious in warding off evil spirits or neutralizing the diseases inflicted by them. Indeed in most cases these flags are regarded by the peasantry as talismans or charms to protect the village from the malice of mischievous ghosts and demons, believed to haunt the atmosphere and swarm everywhere around.
Here are some of the mystic formularies inscribed onmy flags. They resemble Ṡaiva Mantras and Dhāraṇīs—that is, mystical words or sentences used as spells:—
Om maṇi padme Hūm Hring, Om Vajra-pāṇi Hūm, Om ā Hūm, Om Vāg-īṡvarī Mūm, Sarva-siddhi-phala Hūm, Om muni muni mahā-muni, Ṡākya-muni svāhā, Om vajra-sattva Hūm, Hulu hulu, Rulu rulu, Hūm Phaṭ, etc. (Compare my ‘Brāhmanism,’ etc. p. 197).
One flag in my possession has representations of four animals at the four corners, viz. a Tiger, Lion, Eagle, and Dragon[184]—supposed to act as guards against evil spirits. It also has an inscription in Tibetan which was translated for me by Mr. Sarat Chandra Dās, thus:—
‘Reverence be to the Buddhas and Bodhi-sattvas! Thus hath it been heard by me—once on a time when the adorable Ṡākya-Buddha was seated on a marble throne amid the gods of the Trayastriṉṡa heaven, Indra, the Prince of Gods, arrived there, after being completely defeated by the demons (Asuras). Seeing the Buddha, and throwing himself at his feet, he thus reverentially addressed him:—“Oh, my Lord, we the gods of the Trayastriṉṡa (heaven) have suffered a complete defeat at the hands of the demons; instruct us, what are we to do? how are we to triumph over our enemies?” To this the adorable one replied:—“O lord of gods, take this mystical formula called Gyatshar gyi tsemoi Punggyan, which, when repeated, will make you unconquerable. I, too, in my former existence of a Bodhi-sattva found it efficacious in securing victory.”’
‘Reverence be to the Buddhas and Bodhi-sattvas! Thus hath it been heard by me—once on a time when the adorable Ṡākya-Buddha was seated on a marble throne amid the gods of the Trayastriṉṡa heaven, Indra, the Prince of Gods, arrived there, after being completely defeated by the demons (Asuras). Seeing the Buddha, and throwing himself at his feet, he thus reverentially addressed him:—“Oh, my Lord, we the gods of the Trayastriṉṡa (heaven) have suffered a complete defeat at the hands of the demons; instruct us, what are we to do? how are we to triumph over our enemies?” To this the adorable one replied:—“O lord of gods, take this mystical formula called Gyatshar gyi tsemoi Punggyan, which, when repeated, will make you unconquerable. I, too, in my former existence of a Bodhi-sattva found it efficacious in securing victory.”’
It is of course a work of great merit to erect prayer-flags. They form a conspicuous feature in every landscape throughout Tibet, fluttering on hills and in valleys, by the roadside, and on the river bank, on walls and on the tops of houses, in streets, squares, and gardens.
Then, again, the duty of a constant repetition of prayer-formulæ and mystical sentences has led Northern Buddhists to employRosaries, which were used both by Hindūs and Buddhists long before they came into vogue in Europe. Without these necessary aids to devotion the long rounds of repetition could not be accurately completed. In Northern Buddhist countries rosaries ought to consist of 108 beads, which in Tibet are said to represent the 108[185]volumes of the Kanjur. The same number of beads is used by the worshippers of Vishṇu, who use the rosary to aid them in repeating any one of the names of Vishṇu 800 times, the eight additional beads marking each century of repetitions.
The commonest Buddhist rosaries are made of wood, or pebbles, or berries, or bone[186]; the more costly, of turquoise, coral, amber, or silver, or even of pearls and gems. If a rosary made of the bones of some holy Lāma can be procured, it is of course prized above all others. Sometimes a Dorje is appended. Northern Buddhist worshippers hold their rosaries (like Roman Catholics) in the right hand, and move on the beads with the left, and they will do this while talking together or even quarrelling. In China and Japan Buddhist rosaries are often arranged in two rings. They sometimes consist of enormous beads with relics in the central bead.
Be it observed, however, that the prayer-formulariesof Buddhists are not always a mere unintelligible string of words and syllables, muttered, iterated, and reiterated with the aid of rosaries. Their prayers sometimes contain lofty sentiments. For instance, the two vagabond mendicant monks seen by me at Dārjīling (described atp. 267) went about chanting the following:—
Reverence to all the noble Father-Lāmas! I address this to the feet of Duang our patron saint. I, Milaraspa[187], sing it. If the soul be white (enlightened), it must be white inside and outside. I am born in consequence of the works of this world. My earthly father is a sower of the seed of sin. My mother is the soil which receives the seed of sin. The child is myself tied to the father by the cord of sin. When you think of your earthly father, think also of your Lāma (spiritual father). Your earthly father is the source of your sin. Your Lāma frees you from sin[188].
Reverence to all the noble Father-Lāmas! I address this to the feet of Duang our patron saint. I, Milaraspa[187], sing it. If the soul be white (enlightened), it must be white inside and outside. I am born in consequence of the works of this world. My earthly father is a sower of the seed of sin. My mother is the soil which receives the seed of sin. The child is myself tied to the father by the cord of sin. When you think of your earthly father, think also of your Lāma (spiritual father). Your earthly father is the source of your sin. Your Lāma frees you from sin[188].
But this song, which was repeated over and over again, invariably concluded by a repetition of the inevitable six-syllabled formula. This they repeated very rapidly, pronouncing it as usual, ‘Om maṇi-pamme Hūm,’ and adding the mystical syllable Hṛīs. Their chanting was accompanied by an incessant agitation of their ḍamaru or sacred drum, which I was able to purchase. It is shaped like two hemispheres, joined on their convex sides, and is encircled by sacred shells. It is sounded by means of buttons attached to two pendulous strips of leather. The sound made by these drums is out of all proportion to their size. It may be heard at a great distance, and is thought to be highly efficacious in frightening away evil spirits, who dislike loud noisesof all kinds. Here is an exact representation of the sacred drum now in my possession:—
Again, Dr. Eitel (Lectures, iii.) mentions a manual of daily prayer used by Northern Buddhists, which shows that striking words are sometimes chanted, though they may be in Sanskṛit, and therefore unintelligible to those who repeat them. For instance, the following:—
‘May all the Buddhas abide in me, instruct and enlighten me with knowledge and perfection, free me, deliver me, cleanse me, purify me; and may the whole universe be set free (Sarva-tathāgatā māṃ samāvasantu buddhyā siddhyā bodhaya vibodhaya moćaya vimoćaya ṡodhaya viṡodhaya samantaṃ moćaya)!’
Before, therefore, concluding this Lecture we must acknowledge, in fairness to the inhabitants of Tibet, that much of the spirit of religion may be mingled with their superstitions. The words of their prayers are not merely repeated by machinery, written on paper, and inscribed on rocks and stones. The voices of men and women, if not their thoughts, often go heartily with uttered prayers. The note of prayer is raised at all times and seasons—in the morning, mid-day, and evening, in private and in public, at home or abroad, in the midst of labour and idleness, in lying down and rising up, in moving about and keeping still, on the march and on the battle-field, on mournful occasions, and in the midst of joy and laughter. Nor is any one ashamed of praying aloud or praying together in the open streets and squares of crowded towns.
‘There exists,’ says the French Missionary (ii. 194), ‘a very touching custom at Lhāssa. In the evening, just as the day is verging on its decline, all the Tibetans stop business and meet together, men, women, and children, according to their sex and age, in the principal parts of the town and in the public squares. As soon as groups are formed, every one kneels down, and they begin slowly and in undertones to chant prayers.
‘The religious concerts produced by these numerous assemblages create throughout the town a solemn harmony, which operates forcibly on the soul. The first time we witnessed this spectacle, we could not help drawing a painful comparison between this pagan town, where all prayed together, and the cities of Europe, where people would blush to make the sign of the cross in public.’
It was only to be expected, that Buddhism, closely connected as it was with Brāhmanism and Hindūism, and yet in some respects opposed to those systems, should have certain sacred places and hallowed regions, some of which were identical with those of Brāhmanism and Hindūism, and some peculiarly its own.
In the Mahā-parinibbāna-sutta (V. 16-22, Rhys Davids), we have the following declaration:—
‘There are four places which the believing man should visit as a pilgrim with feelings of reverence and awe. The place at which he can say, “Here the Tathāgata (one of the names of Buddha, seep. 23) was born.” The place at which he can say, “Here the Tathāgata attained to perfect insight and enlightenment.” The place at which he can say, “Here the Law was first preached by the Tathāgata.” The place at which he can say, “Here the Tathāgata passed finally away in that utter passing away which leaves nothing whatever behind” (seep. 142, note, andp. 477).‘And they who die, while with believing heart they journey on such pilgrimages, shall be reborn, in the happy realms of heaven.’
‘There are four places which the believing man should visit as a pilgrim with feelings of reverence and awe. The place at which he can say, “Here the Tathāgata (one of the names of Buddha, seep. 23) was born.” The place at which he can say, “Here the Tathāgata attained to perfect insight and enlightenment.” The place at which he can say, “Here the Law was first preached by the Tathāgata.” The place at which he can say, “Here the Tathāgata passed finally away in that utter passing away which leaves nothing whatever behind” (seep. 142, note, andp. 477).
‘And they who die, while with believing heart they journey on such pilgrimages, shall be reborn, in the happy realms of heaven.’
The Chinese traveller, Fā-hien, names the same four sacred places (Chap. xxxi.), and says that the situation of the four great Stūpas (seep. 504) has been fixed, namely, (1) where the Buddha was born, (2) where he attained wisdom, (3) where he began to turn the wheel of his Law, (4) where he attained Pari-nirvāṇa (p. 142). Compare engraving of sculpture oppositep. 477.
Elsewhere Fā-hien mentions two other sacred spots—the place where the Buddha discomfited the advocates of erroneous doctrines[189], and the place where he descended after ascending to the Trayastriṉṡa heaven (seep. 414of this volume), to preach the Law to his mother (Legge’s Fā-hien, 68).
These places are all situated within the area of the sacred land of Buddhism (see map oppositep. 21);—that is to say, the land which was the scene of the Buddha’s itineration for forty-five years—a region about 300 miles long, by nearly 200 broad, lying in Gangetic India, within the modern provinces of Oudh and Behār (Bihār for Vihāra), or the ancient kingdoms of Kosala and Magadha, and having Ṡrāvastī and Buddha-Gayā for its limit towards the north and south respectively.
It will be interesting to note a few particulars in regard to these and other sacred spots scattered throughout this region, in the following order:—Kapila-vastu, Buddha-Gayā, Sārnāth near Benares, Rāja-gṛiha, Ṡrāvastī (often written Ṡrāvasti), Vaiṡālī, Kauṡāmbi, Nālanda, Saṅkāṡya, Sākeṭa (Ajūdhyā), Kanyā-kubja (Kanauj), Pāṭali-putra (Patnā), Kesarīya, Kuṡi-nagara. The map oppositep. 21will make these clear.
To begin with the Buddha’s birth-place (seep. 21).
Kapila-vastu (in Pāli, Kapila-vatthu) was long searched for by archæologists in vain, but is now identified byGeneral Sir A. Cunningham and Mr. Carlleyle with Bhūila, a village surrounded by buried brickwork in the Bastī district under the Nepāl mountains, about twenty-five miles north-east from Faizābād, twelve north-west from Bastī, and one hundred and twenty north of Benares. Both Fā-hien (Legge, 67) and Hiouen Thsang describe the neighbouring Lumbinī (Lavaṇī) garden, where the Buddha was born from the right side of his mother (seep. 23, and engraving oppositep. 477). They also mention the Arrow-fountain where Gautama contended with others of his tribe in a shooting-match. The legend is (p. 24) that he gained the victory by shooting an arrow which passed through the target, buried itself in the ground, and caused a clear spring of water to flow forth (Legge, 65-67; Beal, ii. 23, 24). This name Ṡara-Kūpa, ‘arrow-fountain,’ has now been corrupted into Sar-Kuia (or Sar-Kuhiya), and the spot has been identified (Cunningham’s ‘Reports of Survey,’ xii. 188).
It might have been expected that so sacred a place as Kapila-vastu—the birth-place of Buddha and the scene of his education and youthful exploits—would have been a favourite place of pilgrimage for Buddhists through all time; but we learn from the two Chinese travellers, that even in their day (from the fourth to the seventh century) the whole neighbourhood was a desert and the town in ruins (Beal, i. 50; ii. 14). The reason probably is that Hindūism gained the ascendancy over Buddhism in certain localities, and that when this happened the Brāhmans took pains to obliterate all traces of the rival creed. In later times Muhammadan invasions contributed to the same result.
This was the place where the Buddha obtained perfect knowledge and enlightenment after his sexennial course of fasting and meditation (seep. 31of this volume). It is situated six or seven miles from the town of Gayā, and about sixty miles from Patnā and Bankipur. It is of all Buddhist sacred places the most sacred, and abounds in profoundly interesting memorials of early Buddhism.
Of course it was only to be expected that memorial structures intended to mark important epochs in the life of the extinct Buddha, and calculated to foster feelings of reverence in the minds of his followers, should have been erected at this and various other holy spots of ground consecrated by the presence and acts of Gautama on great occasions. And of all such Buddhist monuments the ancient pyramidal temple at Buddha-Gayā, which I visited in 1876 and 1884, is the most striking and full of interest. Probably a monument of some kind was erected there not very long after the Buddha’s death, and Hiouen Thsang (seep. 399) mentions the temple built there by Aṡoka. The temple which I saw on the occasion of my first visit was probably not built till the middle of the second century, but was erected on the foundation of Aṡoka’s temple, the ruins of which are traceable under the present one[190]. The materials consist of bluish bricks, plastered with lime. Hiouen Thsang states that in his time it had eleven stories and an altitude of about 165 feet. It also had niches in each story, with a golden statue of Buddha in each niche. The whole was crowned with the representation of an Amalaka fruit (Emblic myrobalan) in gilt copper (Cunningham’s Report, i. 5). The Burmese probably restored the temple between 1035 and 1078A.D.Though falling into decay in 1876, its appearance struck me as exceedingly imposing,—even more so than that of the grand pyramidal towers, built over the entrances to the great South Indian temples[191]. The annexed engraving of this ancient monument as it appeared in 1880, before its restoration, is from a photograph by Mr. Beglar, taken on the spot, and enlarged by Mr. Austen.
ANCIENT BUDDHIST TEMPLE AT BUDDHA-GAYĀ, AS IT APPEARED IN 1880.ANCIENT BUDDHIST TEMPLE AT BUDDHA-GAYĀ, AS IT APPEARED IN 1880.
ANCIENT BUDDHIST TEMPLE AT BUDDHA-GAYĀ, AS IT APPEARED IN 1880.
Erected about the middle of the second century over the ruins of Aṡoka’s temple, at the spot where Gautama attained Buddhahood.
The original object of its erection seems to have been simply and solely to serve as a monument, and not as a Dāgaba or receptacle for relics. Very soon, however, monuments of this kind were made to enshrine images, and were used as temples and places of worship. On inquiry I found that the ancient image or images of Buddha, which once occupied the shrine in the ancient Buddha-Gayā temple, had been destroyed or carried off at different times[192], and that another stone image, believed to have been carved in the eighth century, had been recently substituted for it. It is remarkable thatduring the process of restoring the so-called ‘diamond throne,’ on which the statues were placed, a mass of fragments of coral, sapphire, cornelian, crystal, ruby, pearl, ivory, and gold, but no diamond, was found compacted or cemented together in front of it[193].
At the back of the raised terrace which surrounded the ancient temple was a Pīpal or sacred fig-tree, fabled to be the very tree under which Gautama sat during his course of profound meditation ending in Buddhahood (seep. 31). Its vitality was on the wane, for its decaying branches drooped over the parapet as if they sought, like those of a neighbouring Banyan tree, to gain new life by rooting themselves in the ground beneath. Some Buddhist pilgrims happened, at the moment of my visit, to be worshipping at the temple, deputed by the King of Burma to present offerings. I observed that they had brought packets of gold-leaf, and had gilded the stone steps that surrounded the tree. Having performed this act of homage, they sat near muttering their prayer-formularies. No doubt they believed it to be the very Bodhi-tree of Gautama’s time, the stem of which had been miraculously preserved, though, had it been really so, the stem would have been about twenty-three centuries old. Considering the well-known properties of the Pīpal tree, it is possible that the worshippers were, after all, paying honour to the descendant of the original tree, the fact, no doubt, being that as each tree began to decay a new one was produced, by the dropping of seeds into the old roots and the springing up of fresh scions. Probably most of the sacred trees in the neighbourhood of Buddhist temples throughout India, Ceylon, and Burma were originally raised from seeds brought from the ancient Buddha-Gayā tree.
ANCIENT BUDDHIST TEMPLE AT BUDDHA-GAYĀ, AS RESTORED IN 1884.ANCIENT BUDDHIST TEMPLE AT BUDDHA-GAYĀ, AS RESTORED IN 1884.
ANCIENT BUDDHIST TEMPLE AT BUDDHA-GAYĀ, AS RESTORED IN 1884.
It is a received tradition that a shoot from this tree was taken by the Missionary Mahendra, son of Aṡoka, in the third centuryB.C.to Ceylon, and planted at Anurādha-pura, where its descendant still flourishes.
When I again visited Buddha-Gayā in 1884, I found that the old pyramidal temple had been restored according (as is conjectured) to Hiouen Thsang’s description of the Vihāra of his day.
It is said that the late Burmese government, not very long ago, spent about thirty thousand rupees in building a wall round the temple and making excavations with a view to its restoration. Then our government, about 1881 or 1882, undertook the work, and I believe at least a lakh of rupees has been spent in completing it. I give a representation of the restored temple (as it appeared in 1884), from a photograph taken by Mr. Beglar, and enlarged by Mr. Austen. Its present height is 176 feet, as it has several tiers of the usual umbrella-like ornament, tapering to a point at the summit[194].
The reconstruction of the temple led of course to the removal of the sacred Bodhi-tree, but an effort was made to preserve the tree by transplanting it to a neighbouring garden. No sooner was this done than parties of pilgrims from Burma and Ceylon, in their pious desire to maintain the vitality of the venerated tree, covered the stem with gold-leaf, and, bringingEau de Cologne and other scents, poured them over the roots, at the same time manuring them with the contents of boxes of sardines steeped in oil, choice biscuits, and other delicacies. Of course, the result was the speedy destruction of the tree, root and branch. To compensate for its loss, a new Pīpal tree was planted behind the restored temple by Sir A. Cunningham in 1885. Another near the temple appeared to be in a flourishing condition in 1884, and I observed that both Hindū and Buddhist pilgrims met together there as worshippers of the same sacred object.
The idol-shrine, under the principal tower of the restored temple, consists of a small vaulted stone-chamber lighted only by the door. My first act, on arriving at Gayā in 1884, was to descend to this interesting spot. At the further end is the principal statue of Buddha, seated, in the ‘witness-attitude’ (seep. 480)—on an altar-like throne having five pilasters, and supposed to represent the original Bodhi-maṇḍa. The pedestal of the statue is ornamented with diamond-shaped carvings, and sculptures of two elephants and two lions[195].
Inside the shrine, at the moment of my visit, were five Burmese pilgrims from Mandelay. They were apparently monks, as all were habited in yellow dresses. Each man bowed down before the image, with hands joined in reverence, occasionally touching the ground with his forehead, and going through a course of prayer-repetition by help of a rosary. After worshipping for some time, they deposited a quantity of offerings, of asomewhat miscellaneous description, in front of the image. I noticed among other things, rice, fruit, vegetables, flowers of the Bel-tree, tin boxes filled with sardines, Huntley and Palmer’s biscuits, bottles of the genuine Maria Farina’s Eau de Cologne for watering the sacred-trees, and a large number of packets of gold-leaf. I left the shrine for two or three hours, and on returning found that the pilgrims had crowned their act of worship by gilding the image with the contents of these packets, reserving a supply for covering the other images in the vicinity of the temple. The cost of the whole process must have been considerable.
At the back of the great Buddha-Gayā temple, I found a stone tablet for offerings, recently brought and fixed horizontally in the ground by another pilgrim who was from Colombo in Ceylon. It bore an inscription indicating that the slab had been placed there as a votive offering by a person calling himself Guṇa-ratna Muddali Rājā of Kolamba-pur. The date carved on it (Buddha-vasse 2427) shows that the Buddhists of Ceylon are no believers in the researches of modern scholars. They still reckon fromB.C.543 for the supposed Nirvāṇa of Buddha.
At a little distance in front of the great Temple, but on the right side, are the two smaller temples called Tārā-devī and Vāgīṡvarī. In the latter is a circular stone with nine circles of complicated ornaments. This is called a Vajrāsana, from the thunderbolt ornament in the second circle, but it is not the true Bodhi-maṇḍa.
I may mention here that a portion of the original Aṡoka stone-railing, with an inscription, lotus-ornaments and carvings, was discovered in a fair stateof preservation by Sir A. Cunningham, and is now to be seenin situ. The Buddha’s walking place was unearthed by Mr. Beglar. The massive new brick railing which now encloses the temple has been well constructed after an ancient pattern, and ornamented with numerous carvings representing scenes in the lives of the Buddha (p. 111). The paved quadrangle sets the whole off to great advantage. Indeed, the present appearance of the square and the sacred area of ground adjoining—strewn with ruins of the Stūpas erected by Aṡoka and others—and according to the legend by the gods Indra and Brahmā—is one of the most striking sights in all India, and must be seen to be appreciated.
In truth, Buddha-Gayā is a kind of Buddhist Jerusalem, abounding in associations of thrilling interest, not only to the followers of Buddha, but to all who see in that spot the central focus whence radiated a system which for centuries has permeated the religious thought of the most populous regions of Eastern Asia, and influenced the creed of a majority of the human race.
Another remarkable characteristic of this spot is that it was converted into a kind of Buddhist Necropolis, teeming with the remains of generations of the Buddha’s adherents contained in relic-receptacles called Stūpas (pp.503-506), some of which have been brought to light, while countless others still remain to be unearthed.
The fact was that immense numbers of pilgrims from all parts of India and the outlying countries once thronged in crowds to Buddha-Gayā, and nearly every pilgrim brought with him a Stūpa or relic-shrineof some kind, according to his means, and deposited it as a votive offering in this hallowed region, either with the object of acquiring religious merit for himself, or of promoting the welfare of the deceased in other states of being. Often it was inscribed with the usual Buddhist formula, Ye Dharmā, etc. (seep. 104), and sometimes bore a date and the name of the reigning king. Generally the votive Stūpa contained the relics of deceased relatives—perhaps the ashes of a father or mother, or pieces of bone, or a small fragment of a single bone placed in an earthen vessel or casket of some other material, and buried in the interior of the Stūpa.
Relics, however, were not always forthcoming, and so the votive Stūpas were frequently mere cenotaphs or models in clay or stone of actual Stūpas erected in other places. Often they were beautifully carved and ornamented with rows on rows of images of the Buddha. I obtained some beautiful specimens for the Indian Institute at Oxford, a drawing of one of which will be given (seep. 505). Layers on layers of these have been exhumed during the process of the excavations. They are of every variety of size, from three inches to several feet high, and of every variety of material, from terra cotta and clay turned on a potter’s wheel to elaborately sculptured brick and stone. All the upper layers are now gone (those made of clay and pottery having naturally crumbled to pieces), but the lowest are stillin situ, and furnish specimens of all ages from the second century to the tenth or twelfth. I noticed hundreds lying about on the ground in 1884.
A sacred tank, mentioned by Hiouen Thsang, is situated three or four hundred yards to the left of the Buddha-Gayā temple. I found, on visiting it, that this hallowed pool is quite as much venerated by Hindūs as by pilgrims from Buddhist countries.
Indeed, I was much struck by the evidence which Buddha-Gayā affords of the inter-relationship between Buddhism and Hindūism—especially that form of the latter called Vaishṇavism. For instance, on one side of the temple I noticed the tombs of the Mahants, or Heads of the neighbouring Hindu monastery, who are buried there in a sitting posture. Near these again are shrines of the five Pāṇḍava heroes (who take the place of the five Buddhas), and a shrine containing the supposed impression of the two feet of Vishṇu. The upper portion of a small Buddhist Stūpa has been sawn off and inverted[196], and Vishṇu’s footsteps carved on the smooth surface. This certainly symbolizes in a remarkable manner the merging of Buddhism in Vaishṇavism, and bears out Dr. Sachau’s assertion that in Alberūnī’s time Vishṇu-worship was dominant in India.
Then, again, on the right of the entrance to the principal temple is a raised platform of earth, on which are images of Vishṇu, Ṡiva, Pārvatī, and Gaṇeṡa. Here I saw a Ṡrāddha ceremony[197], in the act of being performed by some Hindūs—just arrived from the neighbouring town of Gayā. They were repeating their mantras,offering their Piṇḍas, and putting the finishing stroke to the funeral services (previously performed by them at the Vishṇu-pad temple at Gayā), under the shadow of a Pīpal tree, held as sacred by them as by Buddhists.
To give an exhaustive account of the objects crowded together at this fountain-head of Buddhism would be impossible. The following abbreviated version of the Rev. S. Beal’s translation (ii. 115) of Hiouen Thsang’s description, throws great light on the state of Buddhism in the seventh century:—
Going south-west from Mount Prāgbodhi, we came to the Bodhi-tree. It is surrounded by a brick wall, and is about 500 paces round. Within the wall the sacred traces touch one another in all directions. In one place there are Stūpas, in another place Vihāras. In the middle of the enclosure is the Bodhi-tree, under which is the diamond throne called Bodhi-maṇḍa. On this the Buddha sat and attained the holy path of perfect wisdom. When the earth is shaken, this spot alone is unmoved. In old days, when Buddha was alive, the Bodhi-tree—which is a Pippala or sacred fig-tree—was several hundred feet high. Although it has often been injured by cutting, it is still forty or fifty feet high. The leaves never wither either in winter or summer, but always remain shining and glistening, except on every successive Nirvāṇa-day, when the leaves fade, and then in a moment revive as before. On this day thousands and ten thousands assemble from different quarters, and bathe the roots with scented water and perfumed milk. King Aṡoka, before he was converted, tried to destroy the tree by force, and after him king Saṡāṅka tried again, but the roots sprang up as full of life as ever.To the east of the Bodhi-tree, there is a Vihāra about 160 or 170 feet high, built of blue tiles covered with chunam; all the niches in the different stories holding golden figures. The four sides of the building are covered with ornamental work. The whole is surmounted by a gilded copper Amalaka fruit. To the right and left of the gate are niches; in the left is a figure of Avalokiteṡvara Bodhi-sattva and in the right a figure of Maitreya. On the site of the present Vihāra, Aṡoka at first built a small Vihāra. Afterwards aBrāhman, who became a convert to Buddhism, reconstructed it on a larger scale.To the north of the Bodhi-tree is the place where Buddha walked up and down, about 70 paces or so long. When he had obtained enlightenment, he remained perfectly quiet for seven days. Then rising, he walked up and down during seven days to the north of the tree. Not far to the south of the tree is a Stūpa about 100 feet high, built by King Aṡoka. To the east of the tree is the place (marked by two Stūpas) where Māra tempted Gautama to become a Universal Monarch. To the north-west is a Vihāra in which is an image of Kāṡyapa Buddha, noted for its miraculous qualities. Occasionally it emits a glorious light, and the old records say, that if a man, actuated by sincere faith, walks round it seven times, he obtains the power of knowing the place and condition of his previous births. Outside the south gate is a large tank, about 700 paces round, the water of which is clear and pure as a mirror. To the east of this is the lake of the Snake-king, Mućalinda. On the west bank is a small Vihāra. Formerly, when Tathāgata acquired complete enlightenment, he sat here for seven days in perfect composure, and ecstatic contemplation, while Mućalinda protected him with his folds wound seven times round his body. (Compare the frontispiece.)By the side of the river, not far off, is the place where Buddha received the rice-milk, and where two merchants offered some wheat-flour and honey from their travelling-store (p. 40of this volume).Near this a Stūpa marks the spot where the four Kings presented Buddha with four golden dishes. The Lord declined such costly offerings. Then the four Kings, casting away the golden vessels, offered silver ones; and afterwards vessels of crystal, lapis-lazuli, cornelian, amber, ruby, and so on in succession; but the Lord of the World would accept none of them. Lastly, the four Kings offered stone vessels.Near this spot the Buddha worked various wonders to convert those who were capable of conversion. For example, it was here that the Buddha overcame the fiery snake-demon (seep. 46of this volume). In the middle of the night the Nāga vomited forth fire and smoke, and the chamber seemed to be filled with fiery flames; but the Buddha having forced the fiery dragon into his alms-bowl, came forth next day holding it in his hand, and showed it to the unbelievers.To the south of Mućalinda’s tank is a Stūpa, which indicates the spot where Kāṡyapa, having embarked in a boat to save Buddha during an inundation, saw the Lord of the World walking on the water as on land.
Going south-west from Mount Prāgbodhi, we came to the Bodhi-tree. It is surrounded by a brick wall, and is about 500 paces round. Within the wall the sacred traces touch one another in all directions. In one place there are Stūpas, in another place Vihāras. In the middle of the enclosure is the Bodhi-tree, under which is the diamond throne called Bodhi-maṇḍa. On this the Buddha sat and attained the holy path of perfect wisdom. When the earth is shaken, this spot alone is unmoved. In old days, when Buddha was alive, the Bodhi-tree—which is a Pippala or sacred fig-tree—was several hundred feet high. Although it has often been injured by cutting, it is still forty or fifty feet high. The leaves never wither either in winter or summer, but always remain shining and glistening, except on every successive Nirvāṇa-day, when the leaves fade, and then in a moment revive as before. On this day thousands and ten thousands assemble from different quarters, and bathe the roots with scented water and perfumed milk. King Aṡoka, before he was converted, tried to destroy the tree by force, and after him king Saṡāṅka tried again, but the roots sprang up as full of life as ever.
To the east of the Bodhi-tree, there is a Vihāra about 160 or 170 feet high, built of blue tiles covered with chunam; all the niches in the different stories holding golden figures. The four sides of the building are covered with ornamental work. The whole is surmounted by a gilded copper Amalaka fruit. To the right and left of the gate are niches; in the left is a figure of Avalokiteṡvara Bodhi-sattva and in the right a figure of Maitreya. On the site of the present Vihāra, Aṡoka at first built a small Vihāra. Afterwards aBrāhman, who became a convert to Buddhism, reconstructed it on a larger scale.
To the north of the Bodhi-tree is the place where Buddha walked up and down, about 70 paces or so long. When he had obtained enlightenment, he remained perfectly quiet for seven days. Then rising, he walked up and down during seven days to the north of the tree. Not far to the south of the tree is a Stūpa about 100 feet high, built by King Aṡoka. To the east of the tree is the place (marked by two Stūpas) where Māra tempted Gautama to become a Universal Monarch. To the north-west is a Vihāra in which is an image of Kāṡyapa Buddha, noted for its miraculous qualities. Occasionally it emits a glorious light, and the old records say, that if a man, actuated by sincere faith, walks round it seven times, he obtains the power of knowing the place and condition of his previous births. Outside the south gate is a large tank, about 700 paces round, the water of which is clear and pure as a mirror. To the east of this is the lake of the Snake-king, Mućalinda. On the west bank is a small Vihāra. Formerly, when Tathāgata acquired complete enlightenment, he sat here for seven days in perfect composure, and ecstatic contemplation, while Mućalinda protected him with his folds wound seven times round his body. (Compare the frontispiece.)
By the side of the river, not far off, is the place where Buddha received the rice-milk, and where two merchants offered some wheat-flour and honey from their travelling-store (p. 40of this volume).
Near this a Stūpa marks the spot where the four Kings presented Buddha with four golden dishes. The Lord declined such costly offerings. Then the four Kings, casting away the golden vessels, offered silver ones; and afterwards vessels of crystal, lapis-lazuli, cornelian, amber, ruby, and so on in succession; but the Lord of the World would accept none of them. Lastly, the four Kings offered stone vessels.
Near this spot the Buddha worked various wonders to convert those who were capable of conversion. For example, it was here that the Buddha overcame the fiery snake-demon (seep. 46of this volume). In the middle of the night the Nāga vomited forth fire and smoke, and the chamber seemed to be filled with fiery flames; but the Buddha having forced the fiery dragon into his alms-bowl, came forth next day holding it in his hand, and showed it to the unbelievers.
To the south of Mućalinda’s tank is a Stūpa, which indicates the spot where Kāṡyapa, having embarked in a boat to save Buddha during an inundation, saw the Lord of the World walking on the water as on land.
The city of Benares (Banāras, properly Vārāṇasī) is the most sacred place of Brāhmanism[198], and is certainly the second most holy place of Buddhism. For it was from this centre that the stream of Buddhist teaching first flowed, and in the days of Aṡoka and of his immediate successors, Buddhism must have vied with Brāhmanism in the number of its shrines and sacred objects collected there.
We have already seen that memorial Stūpas and temples, not intended to contain relics, were reared at various holy spots of ground, consecrated by the presence of Gautama on special occasions. The immense ruined Stūpa—once a tower-like monument—at a spot now called Sārnāth (Sāraṅga-nāth[199]), three or four miles from the modern city of Benares, is a memorial of this kind. It is all that remains of the celebrated structure erectedat the spot in the Mṛiga-dāva or deer-park, once called Isi-patana (for Sanskṛit Ṛishi-patana), where Gautama first turned the wheel of the Law (Dharma-ćakra)—that is, where he preached his first sermon (p. 42). It was to this place that Buddhist pilgrims once flocked, and here vast numbers of votive relic-shrines and Stūpas were deposited, as at Buddha-Gayā.
I visited this ancient ruin, in company with the late Mr. Sherring, in 1876, and enjoyed the advantage of his guidance in inspecting it, as well as all that remains of the monastic buildings and other adjacent ruins, including the octagonal tower called Chaukandi, about half a mile distant. In his book on Benares, Mr. Sherring has followed General Sir A. Cunningham, who describes the principal monument—now of a bee-hive shape, and called Dhamek[200]—as 93 feet in diameter at the base, 292 feet in circumference, and 128 feet above the general level of the soil. The lower part—to a height of 43 feet—is built of stone, and all the upper part of bricks. There are eight projecting faces with empty niches, which once held statues.
An old man who was in charge of the ruins when we examined them, lighted a candle, and took us into the horizontal tunnel-like gallery which the General had excavated some years before, in the hope that relics or memorials of some kind might be found buried in the interior. A shaft or well had been previously sunk from the summit, and at the depth of 10½ feet a slabwas discovered, inscribed with the well-known Buddhist formula ‘Ye dharmā,’ etc. (p. 104); but the search for relics proved unsuccessful. The Stūpa, in fact, turned out to be merely memorial, like that at Buddha-Gayā.
Probably some monumental Stūpa existed here from the earliest times, and certainly from Aṡoka’s time. The present Stūpa was seen by Hiouen Thsang, who has described it in rather a confused manner (Beal, ii. 45). Hence it must be as old as about the ninth century. Fā-hien saw a Stūpa of some kind there in the fifth century (p. 387).
About fifty yards from the Stūpa, Sir A. Cunningham found the interesting sculpture given atp. 477.
Rāja-gṛiha (Pāli, Rāja-gaha) is the modern Rāj-gīr. The old city had the epithet Giri-vraja, ‘surrounded by hills[201].’ It was the first metropolis or mother-city of Buddhism, and the original capital of the powerful kingdom of Magadha, when under the rule of the Kings Bimbi-sāra (p. 48) and his son Ajāta-ṡatru, who were contemporaries and friends of Gautama, and convertedby him to Buddhism[202]. The sacred character of the place is attested by the ruins of vast numbers of Buddhist Stūpas and Vihāras which once existed here. Unhappily Brāhmans and Musalmāns have used the materials for their temples, tombs, and mosques.
It was here that Gautama first studied under the Brāhmans Āḷāra and Uddaka (p. 29), and here he first imbibed the philosophical ideas which afterwards coloured his teaching. It is not surprising, therefore, that at a later period of his career he was fond of returning to Rāja-gṛiha for retirement during Vassa; his two favourite resorts[203]being the Bambu grove (Veḷu-vana,p. 48) and the hill called Vulture-peak (Gṛidhra-kūṭa, Legge’s Fā-hien, 81, 83), both in the neighbourhood of the city.
It was here, too, that several interesting incidents in the life of Buddha occurred. For example, it was here in a cavern that the Buddha often meditated. It was here that he often preached and taught; and it was here, or in the neighbourhood of the city, that the god Ṡakra (Indra) once appeared to Buddha, bringing a musician from heaven to entertain him, and afterwards testing his knowledge by forty-two questions. These the god traced with his finger on the rock, and the impression of them, according to Fā-hien, was to be seenthere in his time, and a monastery was built on the spot. With reference to this legend we may note that the answers to the forty-two questions are supposed to be contained in a celebrated Tibetan work called the ‘Forty-two points on which the Buddha gave instruction[204]’, the importance of which is proved by its being translated into several languages.
It was in this neighbourhood, too, that Buddha’s two chief disciples—Ṡāriputra and Maudgalyāyana (Pāli, Moggallāna,p. 47)—had their noted meeting with Aṡvajit (Pāli, Assaji), already mentioned (p. 104). Here, also, a Jaina ascetic made a pit of fire and poisoned the rice, and then invited Buddha to eat. Lastly, it was here that many of Deva-datta’s plots against the Buddha’s life (seep. 52) were carried on. The story of these is so interesting that I abridge it from the Sacred Books of the East (vol. xx. p. 238):—
Now at that time the Venerable One was seated preaching the Law and surrounded by a great multitude, including the king and his retinue. And Deva-datta rose from his seat, and said, ‘The Venerable One is now aged, he has accomplished a long journey, and his term of life is nearly run. Let the Venerable One now dwell at ease and give up the Saṅgha to me, I will be its leader.’ Then said the Buddha, ‘I would not give over the Saṅgha, even to Sāriputta and Moggallāna; how much less then to so evil-living a person as you.’Then Deva-datta thought: ‘The Venerable One denies me before the king, and calls me “evil-living,” and exalts Sāriputta and Moggallāna.’ With these thoughts in his mind he departed, angry and displeased, and went to Ajāta-sattu and said, ‘Do you, prince,kill your father, and become Rājā; and I will kill the Venerable One and become the Buddha.’ And prince Ajāta-sattu, taking a dagger, entered his royal father’s chamber. And the Rājā Bimbi-sāra said, ‘Why do you want to kill me, O prince? if you want the kingdom, let it be thine.’ And he handed it over to Ajāta-sattu. Then Deva-datta said, ‘Give orders, O king, to your men, that I may deprive the Samana Gotama of life.’ And Ajāta-sattu did so. Then sixteen men were sent to kill Gotama. They went, and returned and said, ‘We cannot kill him. Great is the power of the Venerable One.’Next Deva-datta climbed up the Vulture’s Peak, and hurled down a mighty rock on the Venerable One. But two mountain peaks came together and stopped that rock. [Fā-hien says that it hurt one of his toes. Legge, p. 83.] Now at that time there was at Rāja-gṛiha an elephant named Nālāgiri, fierce and a man-slayer. And Deva-datta caused the elephant to be let loose against Gotama. But the Venerable One infused a sense of love into the elephant. And the elephant extended his trunk and took up the dust from off the feet of the Venerable One and sprinkled it over his own head, and retired bowing backwards, gazing upon the Venerable One.
Now at that time the Venerable One was seated preaching the Law and surrounded by a great multitude, including the king and his retinue. And Deva-datta rose from his seat, and said, ‘The Venerable One is now aged, he has accomplished a long journey, and his term of life is nearly run. Let the Venerable One now dwell at ease and give up the Saṅgha to me, I will be its leader.’ Then said the Buddha, ‘I would not give over the Saṅgha, even to Sāriputta and Moggallāna; how much less then to so evil-living a person as you.’
Then Deva-datta thought: ‘The Venerable One denies me before the king, and calls me “evil-living,” and exalts Sāriputta and Moggallāna.’ With these thoughts in his mind he departed, angry and displeased, and went to Ajāta-sattu and said, ‘Do you, prince,kill your father, and become Rājā; and I will kill the Venerable One and become the Buddha.’ And prince Ajāta-sattu, taking a dagger, entered his royal father’s chamber. And the Rājā Bimbi-sāra said, ‘Why do you want to kill me, O prince? if you want the kingdom, let it be thine.’ And he handed it over to Ajāta-sattu. Then Deva-datta said, ‘Give orders, O king, to your men, that I may deprive the Samana Gotama of life.’ And Ajāta-sattu did so. Then sixteen men were sent to kill Gotama. They went, and returned and said, ‘We cannot kill him. Great is the power of the Venerable One.’
Next Deva-datta climbed up the Vulture’s Peak, and hurled down a mighty rock on the Venerable One. But two mountain peaks came together and stopped that rock. [Fā-hien says that it hurt one of his toes. Legge, p. 83.] Now at that time there was at Rāja-gṛiha an elephant named Nālāgiri, fierce and a man-slayer. And Deva-datta caused the elephant to be let loose against Gotama. But the Venerable One infused a sense of love into the elephant. And the elephant extended his trunk and took up the dust from off the feet of the Venerable One and sprinkled it over his own head, and retired bowing backwards, gazing upon the Venerable One.
It may be noted here that the hell to which Deva-datta was condemned for his attempts upon the Buddha’s life, is thus described by Burmese authorities:—
The impious Deva-datta, a cousin and brother-in-law of the Buddha, suffers terrible punishment in Hell. His feet are sunk ankle-deep in burning marl. His head is incased with a red hot metal cap down to the lobe of the ears. Two large red-hot bars transfix him from back to front, two horizontally from right to left, and one impales him from head to foot. (Shway Yoe’s ‘Burman,’ i. 121.)
The impious Deva-datta, a cousin and brother-in-law of the Buddha, suffers terrible punishment in Hell. His feet are sunk ankle-deep in burning marl. His head is incased with a red hot metal cap down to the lobe of the ears. Two large red-hot bars transfix him from back to front, two horizontally from right to left, and one impales him from head to foot. (Shway Yoe’s ‘Burman,’ i. 121.)
It should be mentioned in connexion with Rāja-gṛiha that Ajāta-ṡatru built a grand Stūpa there, over a portion of the Buddha’s ashes, soon after his cremation.
Another fact which enhances the interest of this place is the propinquity of the celebrated Satta-paṇṇi cave (p. 55), where the Buddhist brotherhood first assembled after their leader’s death.