CHAPTER XVII
Thushave I heard.
A Brahman, high and haughty, having great possessions and full of this world’s power, raised his voice railing against the teaching of the Holy One, saying:
“But this is against the teaching of the Vedanta! Who shall hear Gotama the Sakya when he teaches thus?”
And he came proudly from Rajagriha far off, and stood beside to hear, that he might scoff at his ease, but the nobleness of the teacher drew him as with the kindred understanding of high birth, and the marvellous deeps of the Law caught him by the pride of his intellect for he thought it was too high for the foolish, and the wisdom beyond all words that falls like dew on the thirsty soul subdued him into an amazing quiet, and when it was done he went alone into the wood and sat himself in the shade by a clear running stream and considered these things in his heart.
But he could not stay away for cords drew him and bonds were forged between him and That Other and they were smithied in iron unbreakable. So after awhile he rose, and hanging his head went back to the Jetavana monastery and demanded to see the World-Honoured, and when he came, this Brahman Vasettha made due salutation and seated himself respectfully beside him, and he said:
“It has been told to me, Gotama, that the monk Gotama knows the way to the state of union with the Ultimate.”
And the Perfect One replied:
“What is to be known I know.”
“So has it been told to me, Gotama. It is well. Let the venerable Gotama be pleased to show me the way.”
Then said the Happy One:
“Know, Vasettha, that from time to time is born into the world a fully Enlightened One happy with knowledge of the Truth, a Blessed Buddha, and he sees as it were face to face this Universe, freed from his senses in that they no longer can shape illusions to blind and deceive him, for with ordinary men their thought creates shapes about them, a false world in which they believe and are blinded. But it is not so with the Buddhas for they see things as they are. Then do they proclaim this truth of the Universe as it is, lovely in origin, lovely in progress, lovely in consummation, and this is to be known by the higher life, which is the Way to Wisdom in all its purity and perfectness.”
And the Brahman Vasettha as in a dream, fixed, unconscious of all else, said:
“Speak, Lord,—I hear.”
And the Lord said:
“There are two levels of the Way. One for the monk, one for the householder, and of the monk I speak first.
“He takes nothing that is not his own. He is content with what is given, and honesty and a pure heart are his.
“His life is pure, having put aside the habit and thought of sexual intercourse. This is for the householder only, but in all purity.
“From truth in speech he cannot swerve, faithful and trustworthy, he hurts no man by deceit.
“Slander is not for him, and calumny dies upon his tongue. He is a binder together of those who are divided, a peacemaker, a peace-lover, impassioned for peace.
“From him come no harsh words. Whatever word is humane and lovely, pleasing and comforting, that he speaks.
“Foolish talk and idle words are not his. In season he speaks what redounds to profit and wisdom.
“He will not injure any creature. He eats but once a day. Gay and trivial shows are not for him. He does not adorn himself richly, for this is folly for a grown man.
“For riches, be it in silver and gold and jewels, or flocks and herds he has no desire, and putting field to field does not tempt him who knows the world as it Is. And as for any deed of fraud or violence the possibility of it is not in him.
“Nor will he teach magical spells nor gain a living or influence by any such arts or lying practices. And among the disturbed and careful, he moves serene and pure, as the moon, freed from clouds, pursues her way in midnight skies, shedding her light abroad to guide the wayfarer.”
And Vasettha, musing, said:
“This is no low teaching. This is the way of a great nobleman, and such are his manners.”
And the Blessed One:
“It is true. And there is more. Having attained right conduct within and without, he sets his mind free like a bird uncaged from the self, to pervade the four quarters of the world with love and sympathy, and as a mighty trumpeter makes himself heard with ease in all the four directions, so there is no living thing he passes by, but surrounds them with love, grown great and beyond measure.
“And when Love is attained, the way to be one with the Supreme is known and is not far from him.”
And there was a silence, and the Brahman Vasettha said slowly:
“Venerable Gotama, I have been a liberal giver: justly I sought riches, bountifully I bestowed them. Was this well?”
And the Blessed One replied:
“Well. Yet have I shown you a more excellent way, for love is the path of wisdom to true understanding and union with all that is.”
And the Brahman said with passion:
“Instruct me.”
So the Perfect One opened to him the Way and, seated beside him, the Brahman Vasettha learned the Four Noble Truths of suffering, the truth, the cause, the cessation, and the way that leads to its extinction. And immediately there arose within him forgetfulness of all his riches and wisdom came upon him—the Light-bearer, so that he knew illusions for what they are and saw the Universe about him wholly fair, being united with it as a bridegroom with a bride. And seeing being substituted for blindness, he said:
“Most excellent, Lord, are the words of your mouth, most excellent! Just as if a man were to bring a lamp into the darkness so that all is seen clear, so is the truth made known by the Blessed One. And I, even I, betake myself to the Blessed One as my refuge, and to the Truth and the Brotherhood. May I be accepted!”
And the Blessed One replied:
“Come, monk! Well taught is the Doctrine. You have broken every fetter. You have made an end of pain.”
So Vasettha was made one of the Brotherhood and glad at heart he exalted the word of the Blessed One.
And so it was that even the Shining Ones desired instruction of the Perfect One.
Thus have I heard.
When He who has thus Attained dwelt in the monastery of Jetavana, once there came to him a Shining One in the dead of night, and the place was lit up by the clear luminance that streamed from his body. And this Shining One placed himself neither too far nor too near, but where he should rightly be, and bowing low thus he addressed the Buddha:
“Most Excellent, during the twelve years of teaching many Shining Ones desiring to reach the holiness of the Peace have striven to discover what things are blessed, and still are ignorant. Instruct us therefore in those matters which are most blessed. Pronounce the Beatitudes.”
And the Perfected One replied:
“Son of Light, to shun the company of the foolish, to pay homage to the learned, to worship what is worship-worthy, these are blessed things. Son of Light, mark them well.
“Son of Light, to dwell among good men: to hold within the consciousness of good deeds done in a former state of existence, to guard well the actions;—Son of Light, these are blessed things. Mark them well.
“Son of Light, to hear and see much in order to acquire knowledge, to study all science that does not lead to sin, to use right language, to study right manners, these are blessed things. Son of Light, mark them well.
“Son of Light, to treat parents with tenderness and love, to guard wife and children, to do no evil when tempted, these are blessed things. Son of Light, mark them well.
“Son of Light, to make offerings and give nobly, to follow the precepts of law and virtue, to assist relations and friends: these are blessed things, Son of Light, mark them well.
“Son of Light, to avoid sin steadfastly, to abstain from strong drink, to lay up great treasure of good deeds: these are blessed things. Son of Light, mark them well.
“Son of Light, to reverence those who are worthy of veneration, to walk in humility, to dwell in content and gratitude, to hear the teaching of the Law; these are blessed things. Son of Light, mark them well.
“Son of Light, to be patient and endure suffering, to rejoice in good words, to visit saintly persons when possible, to talk on high matters; these are blessed things. Son of Light, mark them well.
“Son of Light, to practise holy austerities, to walk steadfast in the Truth with eyes fixed on the attainment of the Peace: these are blessed things. Son of Light, mark them well.
“Son of Light, to be unmoved, to be of serene mind, exempt from passion, composed and fearless amid all earthly dangers: these are blessed things. Son of Light, mark them well.
“O Son of Light, whoever possesses these blessings shall never be overcome; shall in all things find joy. Son of Light, mark them well, thus attaining the peace of the Arhats, the Perfected Saints.”
Thus replied the World-Honoured and the Shining One heard and went away content. And it is told that it was the beloved Ananda who handed down this discourse to the ages, having received it from the Blessed One, and mark it well, for in a little compass it contains all.
Praise be to the Possessor of the Six Glories, the Holy, the All-Wise!
Now of the bodily presence of the Blessed One will I say this.
When age came upon him it came with beauty, so that all hearts fell at his feet and embraced them because he was as one to whom all evil things must fly for refuge that being delivered from the self they might be made one with him and the Truth. And none could see him without this desire. Nor in his presence was virtue remembered for he was virtue’s self made manifest in love, and in the ocean of love were all submerged who saw him.
His face was worn and calm as in an image of royal ivory, his nose prominent and delicate, bespeaking his Aryan birth, his eyes of a blue darkness, and he carried himself as one of the princes. But all this might be said of another, and there was none like him—none! For Wisdom walked on his left hand and Love on his right, and light as of the sun surrounded him. Wise and piercing were his words, delighting even those who would have scoffed.
And once the Holy One approached with his begging bowl the ploughed fields of a rich man and stood apart, waiting, and the man saw this saying:
“Having ploughed and sown I eat. You also should plough and sow, for the idle shall not eat.”
“I also, Brahman, plough and sow.” Thus said the Perfected One.
“Yet we do not see the plough of the Venerable Gotama!” so said the other, mocking. And the World-Honoured answered:
“Faith is the seed, understanding the yoke and plough, tenderness the deliverance. So is my ploughing done. And the fruit is immortality, and having thus ploughed a man is freed of all ill.”
And the Brahman poured rice-milk into a bowl and offered it, saying:
“Let the Blessed One eat of the rice-milk for he also is a ploughman who makes to grow the fruit of immortality.”
And this man also entered the Way and became glad at heart, having heard the Truth.
And the Holy One talked with men and women of all ranks and affairs, so that the mind of none was hidden from him, and, even as they felt, he knew, and their hopes and fears were not far from him. Fathomless were the wisdom and compassion of Him who has thus Attained.
So also with women, from the queens to the weaver-maidens they feared not to implore his mercy. Very patiently and according to the measure of their weakness he instructed them, and they grew like bamboos in a night shooting up to the light with glory of leaf and stem. And surely in these tender ones the Lord beheld the likeness of his mother, of whom it was said, “Joyful and reverenced of all, even as the young moon, strong and calm of purpose as the earth, pure of heart as the lotus, was Maya the Great Lady.” And of these women many became nuns and teachers, and not a few attained unto the Perfect Enlightenment passing even in this life into that Nirvana wherein are no more birth and death. And even the light women sought him in hope and he drove them not away, and wisdom rose within them like a wind of fire and burnt away all dross and alloy and they too entered the Way and wielded the powers, perceiving the Love in which all loves are one.
Yet let it not be thought that because of this compassion the Lord at any moment relaxed the watchfulness of those who followed him, knowing well that of all snares women may be the very worst. Stern were the rules he made for the men who live on the austere heights of contemplation, strait the fences about the way. For the householders, purity in marriage, kindness reverence to mother, sister, wife, daughter, in their daily duties. For all, watchfulness and discipline lest the foot slip in the mire.
And one day, when they rested in the shade on a journeying, Ananda the well-beloved, cousin of the Lord, asked an instruction.
“Lord, how should we who are monks, conduct ourselves with regard to women-kind, for this is a hard matter.”
And the Excelling One said:
“See them not, Ananda.”
“Even so, Lord. But if we should see them, what then?”
“Abstain from speech, Ananda.”
“Even so, Lord. But if they should speak to us, what then?”
“Keep wide awake, Ananda.”
And O that it were possible to set down the laughter of the Lord among his own, and the sweet converse when he related to them the stories of his former births, and whether parables or truths, how is it possible for the not wholly enlightened, who know not their own chains of births, to say? But wise were these stories and sweet and full of teaching for the little ones of the Law and babes might run to hear and laugh, and yet again the wisest pause and ponder the noble truths hidden in them.
Hear now a Birth Story of the Lord. For this is called the Holy Quail, and the Blessed One told it as he and his went through a jungle. For there a very great jungle fire arose and roared toward them very terribly, and some would have made counter-fire and burned the ground before it, but others cried aloud:
“Monks, what is it you would do? Surely it is madness, for we journey with the Master who can do All. And yet, making a counter-fire you would forget the power of the Buddhas! Come, let us go to the Master.”
So they went, and the flame came roaring on to the place where they stood, and when it came within fifteen rods of the Blessed One it was extinguished like a torch plunged in water, and they magnified him. But he said:
“Monks, this was not due to my power but to the faith of a Quail. Hear this.”
And they said:
“Even so, Lord.”
And the beloved Ananda folded a robe and spread it as a seat and he sat and told this tale:
“In this very spot long, long ago, was a young Quail, and he lay in the nest and his parents fed him, for he could neither fly nor walk. And with a mighty roar there came a jungle fire and all the birds fled shrieking away and even his parents deserted him.
“So the young Quail lay there alone, and he thought this:
“Could I fly, could I walk, I might be saved, but I cannot. No help have I from others and in myself is none. What then shall I do?”
And he reflected thus.
“In this world is Truth if it can be found. There are also the Buddhas who have seen the Truth and have shown it abroad, and in the Buddhas is love for all that lives. In me also is the Truth (though but a poor little Quail) and faith that has power. Therefore it behoves me, relying on these things to make an Act of Faith and thus to drive back the fire and find safety for myself and the other birds.
“So the Quail called to mind the Powers of the Buddhas, the Truth-Seers, and making a solemn asseveration of faith existing in himself he said this:
“Wings have I that cannot fly,Feet I have that cannot walk.My parents have forsaken me,O all-devouring fire, go back!”
“Wings have I that cannot fly,Feet I have that cannot walk.My parents have forsaken me,O all-devouring fire, go back!”
“Wings have I that cannot fly,Feet I have that cannot walk.My parents have forsaken me,O all-devouring fire, go back!”
“Wings have I that cannot fly,
Feet I have that cannot walk.
My parents have forsaken me,
O all-devouring fire, go back!”
“And before this Act of Faith the fire dropped and died, retreating. And the Quail lived his life in the forest and passed away according to his deeds, and because of his strength of faith fire dies for ever when it touches this spot.”
So said the Excellent One, and when he had finished this discourse he made the connection and summed up, saying:
“My parents at that time were my present parents, and the Quail was I myself.”
And they marvelled and were instructed.
And one day two monks approached him, having travelled far, and according to his manner he said in welcoming them:
“Is it well with you, monks? Are you able to live? Have you passed the rains in peace and unity, and have you experienced any lack of support?”
And they replied:
“It is not well with us, Blessed One, for there is great anger between us, and we devour our hearts with bitterness and know no peace.”
And they laid their case before him in mutual hatred, and he said:
“He abused me! He beat me! In those who harbour such thoughts how can hatred die? By oneself evil is done. By oneself one suffers. The swans go on the path of sun, they go through the air by means of their miraculous power. In a man’s power is his salvation from evil. There is no fire like passion: there is no losing throw like hatred. Let a man leave anger, let him forsake pride. Let him overcome anger by love and conquer the liar by truth. For hatred ceases not at any time by hatred, but only by love. This is an old rule.”
An old rule. Yet when the Lord spoke it from his heart of bliss it became a new commandment and wisdom. So these two saluted one another in love before the face of the Perfect One, and, hand clasped in hand, they left him.
And again when a young monk was led away by the transient smile of a woman to his undoing, the Perfected One said this:
“Rise above the five senses which see things as they are not, and open the sight which see things as they are. Even the Divine Beings may well envy him whose desires like horses well broken are utterly subdued. Him whom no false desires can lead captive any more, by what temptation can he be felled—he the Awakened, the all-seeing, the desireless? And make thought pure, for all that we are is the result of what we have thought. It is founded on our thoughts, it is made up of our thoughts. If a man speaks or acts from an evil thought pain follows him as the wheel follows the ox that draws the carriage. Earnest among the thoughtless, awake among the drowsy, the wise man presses steadily onward to joy.”
And they said, “Even so, Lord,” and seeing their faces glad about him, he added:
“As on a heap of refuse cast forth by the highway a lily may grow filling the air with sweetness, thus the disciples of the true Buddha shine forth among the people who walk in darkness.”
And on another day when they talked of the lures of desire, the Lord said this:
“As long as the evil deed does not bear fruit the fool thinks it sweet as honey, but later comes the bitterness.
“And when the evil deed is thrown upward in recklessness, like a stone it falls back on the fool and breaks his head.
“For those who will not learn, who cannot as yet understand, hard to follow is the path of the wise man, like that of birds flying home through trackless depths of air. But what is difficult may with taking thought be done. The arrow-maker trues his arrow, the carpenter shapes his log, the wise man shapes himself, for no other hand can do it. Tranquil are his thoughts, serene his meditation when he has obtained freedom by knowledge. But the beginning is this—Let no man think lightly of the beginning of evil, saying—‘It is only a little thing,’ for by the falling of water drops one by one, a pit is filled, and so is it with a little evil,—and with good it is the same. Little by little do good thoughts and deeds grow into the Peace.
“By a man’s self is evil done, by himself he suffers, by himself comes good, by himself purification, and by none other.
“This is the sole victory that brings gladness, for in the world of forms victory breeds hatred for the conquered is unhappy. He who has given up both victory and defeat, he is the taster of bliss.”
I write and men read, but who can declare the wisdom of the Lord? For as mists ascend at dawn so illusion was dispersed before his radiance and the veil was lifted and men beheld about them the true Universe of the Powers and the Truth,—the One, the Alone, in which we live and move and have our being.
CHAPTER XVIII
Thushave I heard.
Yet another thing, and heed it well for it was a day precious as clean gold.
As the Lord went with his disciples, they came to the river by the fields of Dhaniya the herdsman, a rich man who trusted in his goods, but kindly and simple, such as the Blessed One loved. And here he stayed his feet, smiling a little as at a thought of his own; and his disciples stood about him, and he said this:
“Here we see great riches of beasts and pasture; surely the man owning these good things is well content!”
And Dhaniya seeing the Holy One, drew near in his peasant’s pride and addressed him:
“I have boiled my rice, I have milked my cows,” so said the herdsman Dhaniya. “I dwell near the banks of the Mahi, my house is roofed, my fire kindled. Therefore, if thou wilt, rain, O sky!”
For believing his riches a strong shield he feared nothing.
“I am free from anger, free from stubbornness,” said the Blessed One, “For one night I abide by the Mahi river. My house is unroofed, the fire of passion is extinguished. Therefore, if thou wilt, rain, O sky!” And he smiled.
“Gadflies are not found with me,” said the herdsman Dhaniya. “In meadows rich with grass my cows are roaming, and well can they endure rain when it falls. Therefore if thou wilt, rain, O sky!”
“I have made a raft, I have passed over to the shore of the Peace,” so said the Blessed One. “Therefore if thou wilt, rain, O sky!”
“My wife is obedient!” boasted the herdsman Dhaniya. “Winning she is, and I hear no ill of her. Therefore, if thou wilt, rain, O sky!”
“My mind is obedient, delivered from all worldly matters,” so said the Blessed One. “And in me there is no ill. Therefore if thou wilt, rain, O sky!”
“I support myself by my own riches!” so said the herdsman Dhaniya, “and my children are healthy about me. I hear nothing wicked of them. Therefore if thou wilt, rain, O sky!”
“I am no one’s servant,” so said the Perfect One, “with what I have gained I wander through the world. For me there is no need to serve. Therefore, if thou wilt, rain, O sky!”
“I have cows, I have calves!” so said the herdsman Dhaniya. “I have also a bull as lord over the herds. Therefore if thou wilt, rain, O sky!”
“I have no cows, I have no calves!” so said the Happy One, “—And I have no bull as lord over the herds. Therefore, if thou wilt, rain, O sky!”
“The stakes are driven in and cannot be shaken,” so said the herdsman Dhaniya. “The ropes are new and well made: the cows cannot break them. Therefore if thou wilt, rain, O sky!”
“Having, like a bull, rent the ropes: having like an elephant broken through the tangle,” so said the Blessed One, “I shall no more be born to death. Therefore if thou wilt, rain, O sky!”
And he smiled as one at rest, enthroned above pain or change.
Then all at once, from a full-wombed cloud, a shower poured down, filling both land and water. And the eyes of Dhaniya were enlightened, and seeing the true riches of the empty hand and freed soul, the herdsman spoke thus, bowing at the feet of the Perfect One.
“No small gain has indeed accrued to us since we have seen the Blessed One. We take refuge in thee, O Wisest. Be thou our Master.”
“He who has cows has care with his cows,” so said the Blessed One, concluding the matter. “But he who is free of these things has not care.” So Dhaniya entered the Way of Peace, and taking the vow of the householder was at rest.
And now in this of Dhaniya is a thing much to be pondered. For it is observable that the Holy One said these words to him:
“I have passed over to Nirvana—to the Peace.” How could this be and he yet living in the world of form? What then is the Nirvana? For, since the departing of Him who has thus Attained, the ignorant have taught the heresy which Sariputta the Great rebuked in the monk Yamaka,—even that the true Nirvana is extinction, is dispersal of all that once was the man, the ego known to himself and others, he being annihilated in death as a flame blown out in vast darkness. Yet no, and again, not so, though not in words may the Truth be fully told. Yet—if a man may attempt to throw a stone at a star, this that follows may be told of the Nirvana.
They who talk of existence and non-existence are ignorant, for these are words only. There is no existence or non-existence, but in their stead reality and unreality, and in this world of form is unreality and in That World, reality. So that the unreal ego which we here believe to be the man is nothing and whether here or there has no reality but is a compound of causes which dissolve at death, while the reality of the man abides whether here or There. True it is that after death no longer can it be perceived, no longer can it be guessed by the bodily senses—the liars, the deceived, the slaves; yet in a profundity beyond all depths of all oceans it abides. The rest is silence.
Thus, the Blessed One and they who with him attained, were in life delivered from the illusion of the world of forms and seeing all as it is were glad. For the true Nirvana is an extinction—not of the eternal—but of craving, the lust of the flesh, the lust of life, and the pride of life. And when the inward fires of lust, and hatred and pride are extinguished, then that man has entered into the Nirvana whether here or there. And surely this was the Lesson of Lessons, and many a parable, many a teaching did the World-Honoured utter in all solemnity that we might know it is the self—the individual self lurking in a man like an ape in the boughs, clutching, greedy, foul, foolish, that is the cause of all evil and sorrow and of his separation from the universe of life and light that lies about him. And he must learn that this foul and foolish chatterer is dream and illusion of the senses and consciousness, for when this teaching is mastered we lift the true eyes of wisdom and look about us seeing at last that the world is wholly fair. Know this, for it is the very kernel of the nut. This is the Way of Peace, this is the Gate of the Ten Perfections whereby we also are perfect being One; this is the Nirvana, absolute in joy and bliss immortal.
Be not misled. If this false belief of annihilation be accepted the belief in the Karma and its awful justice falls to the ground, and the Blessed One is made to utter words unreal and deceptive. It is not well to traduce the teaching of the Blessed One, for what he taught he knew, and where he was silent it was from knowledge too great to be uttered save to his high initiates, and they too, knowing, were content. For a man can but receive as he is able, and the Truth needs two servants—the one to speak and the other to hear.
True is it that the Lord before he passed away from the world of the senses said to the beloved Ananda, this:
“I have preached the truth, Ananda, and in respect of the Truth He who has thus Attained had no such thing as the closed fist of the Teacher who holds back his knowledge.”
Yes, but a man can but take what he can, and where the great saints of the Lord knew and were content, the lesser men guessed and stumbled blindly by excess of light and this was unavoidable for they were not prepared, and in future lives they have learned, will learn, and they too be content in wisdom.
Therefore when men ask the disciple of the Nirvana, and say:
“Is it annihilation? Is it the end of all, for so many teach?” reply thus:
“It is the annihilation of ignorance and passion and all their brood. It is the annihilation of conditioned being and of all the illusion that fettered us. It is the rending of the painted veil of life that hides from us the light. It is the end of all turning of the wheel of the long pilgrimage through self-shaped dream-worlds of deception. It is the end of grief and self-deceit. It is awakening from the dream of life, from the crippling of the ego-self, into freedom. It is beyond all that we call life, and death is unknown to it. It is All and One and above right and wrong and in it are all things reconciled.
“And it is us and in us and we in it for ever.”
Open the eyes of understanding and see and know, as he the Awakened, has taught.
And now must the story turn to the Princess Yashodara, released from grief and grown strong in wisdom.
Musing night and day on these thoughts and this blessedness the Princess excelled in knowledge and in her true eyes the light shone brighter and more bright in the deep contemplation of her heart, and when in the passing of the years the wealth of the Maharaja fell into her hands she valued it nothing, placing it where most good and least harm could flow from it. And with attendant princesses she walked nearly five hundred miles, refusing all offers of assistance, that she might be near the World-Honoured, breathing the same air, sometimes attendant upon his teaching, sometimes sending dutifully to enquire after the health of the monk Rahula, her son.
So, having grown old, but still eminent in the nobility of her beauty and its calm, as she sat alone one day she remembered many of her friends who through the Peace here to be attained had departed to that Other. And she thought this:
“I was born on the same day as my lord, the Awakened One, and in the regular order of things I should on the same day enter the Great Peace. But this is an honour too great for me and far beyond my deserts, nor can it be. I am now seventy eight years in this world of illusion, and in two years from now, he, the Blessed One, will enter that which cannot be named. I will therefore request permission to precede him, as the lower should precede the great.”
So, accompanied by her attendants, the Princess went to the Vihara, the monastery, where the Lord sat at the time with a company of disciples, and presenting herself before him humbly asked forgiveness for any faults she might have committed. And he replied:
“You are the most virtuous of women. But from the time you received the Light, you have done no marvels, so that many have not known the power that is in you, doubting whether you were indeed an Arhat. There is a company assembled about us, who know not the Powers. Show them.”
But the Princess, doubting in her humility that this should be, doubting whether a woman should display the beauty of her person to onlookers, was not assured that this was well. Yet, with the insight to which time is nothing, she spoke, rehearsing the mystery and marvel of all her former lives, for now having vanquished rebirth she was as the traveller who nearing the mountain top and the eternal purities sees the way by which he has come, rejoicing in perils escaped and rest unending. And all sat entranced, listening to the music of her voice and the marvels she—to whom time was no more than a child’s toy cast aside—unfolded before them. And suddenly, as she ended, the air upbore her light feet and a marvel was done before them, for in the air she prostrated herself before Him who has thus Attained, attributing to him the knowledge that had guided her into bliss. And those who saw hid their faces.
And when all was concluded she retired to her own dwelling and there, that same night, rising from contemplation to contemplation, she beheld the Peace, being delivered for ever from all illusion, and so passed into That which is to come.
And of her son—the monk Rahula—this also must be told:
At one time the Lord, with robe and bowl, went to Savatthi in search of alms, and his son Rahula followed step for step, and the Blessed One, turning, said this:
“Whatever form one bears, monk, is to be viewed with perfect wisdom and the understanding—‘This is not mine; it is not I. This is not my true self.’ ”
And Rahula answered:
“And only form, O Lord, and only form, O Happy One?”
“Form, Rahula, and sensation and perception and the tendencies and consciousness. These also are not the true self.”
And Rahula, being thus addressed with an Instruction, would not go to roam and beg among the people, but set aside his bowl, and sat beneath a tree to meditate upon the Instruction. And in the evening, having ended his calm contemplation, he sought the Blessed One and saluting him reverently seated himself respectfully beside him and besought him to instruct him on the discipline of meditation and training, and the Blessed One instructed him in all the processes, even to the ruling of the breath in inspiration and expiration so that the false senses may be lulled and the true eye of wisdom opened, and pleased and gladdened was the venerable Rahula with that high instruction.
And thus Rahula in time became first a great warrior for the Truth and then a great Arhat: a perfected saint. And in what way did he become a warrior? Even as a monk asked of the Awakened One:
“Warriors, warriors, we call ourselves, O Happy One, and in what way are we warriors?”, and had this reply:
“We make war, monk. Therefore are we warriors?”
“And for what do we make war, O Leader?”
“For perfect virtue, for high endeavour, for sublime wisdom. To see in a world of blindness, to be free in a world of slaves,—therefore, do we make war.”
And when is the victory gained?—When the dark night of I-ness is enlightened,—when the man is no longer a swimmer struggling for life in agony against the waves, but the grey gull borne on the winds in bliss or floating at peace on the billows of eternity.
This is the victory of the monk Rahula and of the wise.
PART IV
CHAPTER XIX
Socontinued our Lord, wandering from place to place, or resting in the season of the rains in the monasteries provided by the supporters of the Brotherhood, and, followed by his own, he taught the Breaking of the Fetters—and the fetters he broke are these:
The delusion of self—namely that the individual ego is real and self-existent. For what can exist outside the Universal Self? And egoism is the very root of death.
Doubt. For who can advance boldly, doubting the way and where he shall set the next step?
Belief in good works and ceremonies. For what good work can open a man’s eyes if his motive is mean, and what value have rites and ceremonies in themselves?
Fleshly lust. By no means did the Lord command a cruel asceticism, for this he had tried to the uttermost and having laid it aside, passed on. No, but a joyous temperance, the child of wisdom and duty, the fosterer of endeavour. And duty in all things, a strength by some to be attained now, by others with patience in later lives.
Ill-will. For this is a cruel fetter, biting to the very bone of the wretch who carries it, and it is forged indeed from the black iron of egoism and belief in the separate ego.
And this being all accomplished the last fetters to be broken are:
The desire for separate and individual life in the world of forms we see about us.
The desire for separate life in the formless world to which we shall attain.
Pride—the very snarer of Divine Beings.
Self-righteousness, the womb-sister of pride.
And last, the most terrible of fetters—
Ignorance—mother of a deadly brood.
And where he went these fetters fell before him, and prison doors were opened and they who had sat in darkness walked in light. And they aspired to perfection for he taught that Perfection was their heritage, if not now, then in some future life where the sown seeds of good expanding should throw out strong arms and glorious blossom.
And they believed, and some set tottering steps in the path, and some advanced with wings rather than feet, but all were seekers and finders.
But he compelled none, nor threatened, for by a man’s true self comes his salvation, and seated among his own he said:
“The Tathagata—He who has thus Attained, does not think that it is he who must lead the Brotherhood or that the Order is dependent upon him.”
Only, steadfastly pointing the way, he rejoiced that men should follow it, casting forth his light like the sun, not compelling men to guide their steps by it.
Nor did he teach resignation to sorrow nor its acceptance as a blessing and discipline. Far from it. For in the clear percipience of the Lord sorrow is ignorance and shameful.
“One thing only, monks, now as always I declare to you—sorrow and the uprooting of sorrow.”
For what man would wander in the mist of sorrow when he may walk glad and straight to the goal in the sunlight of wisdom. And sorrow understood is sorrow ended.
Therefore the Lord taught understanding of sorrow, as the first need and therefore says the wise Nagasena:
“As a boy I was admitted to the Order, and nothing did I know of the goal. But I thought—‘These men taught by the Awakened One will teach me.’ And they taught, and now I know with understanding the foundation and the crown of Renunciation.”
And what the Lord taught he knew: that there is no sorrow for the wise.
And thus when he stayed at Alavi, by the cattle-path in the forest he rested on a couch of leaves, and it so chanced that a man of Alavi as he went through the forest saw the Exalted One sitting absorbed in meditation, and greeting him with respect this man sat down at his side and said:
“Master, does the World-Honoured live happily?”
And the Perfect One answered:
“It is so, young man. Of those who live happily in the world I also am one.”
“Cold, Master, is the winter night, the time of frost is coming: rough is the ground trodden by cattle: thin is the couch of leaves: light the monk’s yellow robe: sharp the cutting winter wind.”
For his heart pitied the aging of the Exalted One. But he replied, again smiling:
“It is so, young man. I live happily. Of those who live happily in the world I also am one.”
And so it was, and with his own also. For his mendicants rejoicing said to one another:
“We who call nothing our own, drenched with happiness, we in this world cast out light like the radiant Gods.”
And their song was—