Chapter VIII: Part II (5)

Seeing this woful change in their appearance, he became more and more disgusted with lusts. To him that magnificent apartment, as splendid as Sakka’s residence in heaven, began to seem like a charnel-house full of loathsome corpses. Life, whether in the worlds subject to passion, or in the worlds of form, or in the formless worlds, seemed to him like staying in a house that had become the prey of devouring flames.[193] An utterance of intense feeling broke from him--“It all oppresses me! It is intolerable!” and his mind turned ardently to the state of those who have renounced the world. Resolving that very day to accomplish the Great Renunciation, he rose from his couch, went to the door and called out, “Who is there?”

Channa, who had been sleeping with his head on the threshold, answered, “It is I, sir, Channa.”

Then said he, “I am resolved to-day to accomplish the Great Renunciation--saddle me a horse.”

So Channa went to the stable-yard, and entering the stables saw by the light of the lamps the mighty steed Kanthaka, standing at a pleasant spot under a canopy of cloth, beautified with a pattern of jasmine flowers. “This is the very one I ought to saddle to-day,” thought he; and he saddled Kanthaka.

Even whilst he was being saddled the horse knew, “He is saddling me so tightly, and not as on other days for such rides as those to the pleasure grounds, because my master is about to-day to carry out the Great Renunciation.” Then, glad at heart, he neighed a mighty neigh; and the sound thereof would have penetrated over all the town, had not the gods stopped the sound, and let no one hear it.

Now after the Bodisat had sent Channa on this errand, he thought, “I will just look at my son.” And rising from his couch he went to the apartments of Rāhula’s mother, and opened her chamber door. At that moment a lamp, fed with sweet-smelling oil, was burning dimly in the inner chamber. The mother of Rāhula was asleep on a bed strewn with many jasmine flowers,[194] and resting her hand on the head of her son. Stopping with his foot on the threshold, the Bodisat thought, “If I lift her hand to take my son, she will awake; and that will prevent my going away. I will come back and see him when I have become a Buddha.” And he left the palace.

Now what is said in the Jātaka commentary, “At that time Rāhula was seven days old,” is not found in the other commentaries. Therefore the view given above should be accepted.[195]

And when the Bodisat had left the palace, he went to his horse, and said, “My good Kanthaka, do thou save me this once to-night; so that I, having become a Buddha by your help, shall save the world of men, and that of angels too.” Then leaping up, he seated himself on Kanthaka’s back.

Kanthaka was eighteen cubits in length from the nape of his neck, and of proportionate height; he was strong and fleet, and white all over like a clean chank shell. If he should neigh or paw the ground, the sound would penetrate through all the town. Therefore the angels so muffled the sound of his neighing that none could hear it; and placed, at each step, the palms of their hands under his feet.

The Bodisat rode on the mighty back of the mighty steed; told Channa to catch hold of its tail, and arrived at midnight at the great gate of the city.

Now the king thinking, “In that way the Bodisat will not be able at any time to open the city gate and get away,” had placed a thousand men at each of the two gates to stop him. The Bodisat was mighty and strong according to the measure of elephants as ten thousand million elephants, and according to the measure of men as a million million men. He thought, “If the door does not open, sitting on Kanthaka’s back with Channa holding his tail, I will press Kanthaka with my thighs, and jumping over the city rampart, eighteen cubits high, I will get away!” Channa thought, “If the door is not opened, I will take my master on my neck, and putting my right hand round Kanthaka’s girth, I will hold him close to my waist, and so leap over the rampart and get away!” Kanthaka thought, “If the door is not opened, I will spring up with my master seated as he is on my back, and Channa holding by my tail, and will leap over the rampart and get away!” And if the door had not been opened, verily one or other of those three would have accomplished that whereof he had thought. But the angel residing at the gate opened it.

At that moment Māra came there with the intention of stopping the Bodisat; and standing in the air, he exclaimed, “Depart not, O my lord! in seven days from now the wheel of empire will appear, and will make you sovereign over the four continents and the two thousand adjacent isles. Stop, O my lord!”

“Who are you?” said he.

“I am Vasavatti,” was the reply.

“Māra! Well do I know that the wheel of empire would appear to me; but it is not sovereignty that I desire. I will become a Buddha, and make the ten thousand world-systems shout for joy.”

Then thought the Tempter to himself: “Now, from this time forth, whenever a thought of lust or anger or malice shall arise within you, I will get to know of it.” And he followed him, ever watching for some slip, as closely as a shadow which never leaves its object.

But the future Buddha, making light of the kingdom of the world, thus within his reach,--casting it away as one would saliva,--left the city with great honour on the full-moon day of Āsāḷhi, when the moon was in the Uttarā-sāḷha lunar mansion (_i.e._ on the 1st July). And when he had left the city a desire sprang up within him to gaze upon it; and the instant he did so the broad earth revolved like a potter’s wheel, and was stayed: saying as it were to him, “O Great Being, there is no need for you to stop in order to fulfil your wish.” So the Bodisat, with his face towards the city, gazed at it; and he fixed at that place a spot for the Kanthaka-Nivattana Cetiya (that is, The Shrine of Kanthaka’s Staying--a Dāgaba afterwards built where this miracle was believed to have happened). And keeping Kanthaka in the direction in which he was going, he went on with great honour and exceeding glory.

For then, they say, angels in front of him carried sixty thousand torches, and behind him too, and on his right hand, and on his left. And while some deities, undefined on the edge of the horizon, held torches aloft; other deities, and the Nāgas, and Winged Creatures, and other superhuman beings, bore him company--doing homage with heavenly perfumes, and garlands, and sandal-wood powder, and incense. And the whole sky was full of Paricchātaka flowers from Indra’s heaven, as with the pouring rain when thick clouds gather. Heavenly songs floated around; and on every side thousands of musical instruments sounded, as when the thunder roars in the midst of the sea, or the great ocean heaves against the boundaries of the world!

Advancing in this pomp and glory, the Bodisat, in that one night, passed beyond three kingdoms, and arrived, at the end of thirty leagues, at the bank of the river called Anomā. But why could not the horse go still further? It was not through want of power: for he could go from one edge of the round world to the other, as easily as one could step across the circumference of a wheel lying on its side;--and doing this in the forenoon, he could return and eat the food prepared for him. But on this occasion he was constantly delayed by having to drag himself along, and break his way through the mass of garlands and flowers, cast down from heaven in such profusion by the angels, and the Snakes, and the Winged Creatures, that his very flanks were hid. Hence it was that he only got over thirty leagues.

Now the Bodisat, stopping at the river side, asked Channa, “What is this river called?”

“Its name, my lord, is Anomā.”

“And so also our renunciation of the world shall be called Anomā (illustrious),” said he; and signalling to his horse, by pressing it with his heel, the horse sprang over the river, five or six hundred yards in breadth, and stood on the opposite bank.

The Bodisat, getting down from the horse’s back, stood on the sandy beach, extending there like a sheet of silver, and said to Channa, “Good Channa, do thou now go back, taking my ornaments and Kanthaka. I am going to become a hermit.”

“But I also, my lord, will become a hermit.”

“You cannot be allowed to renounce the world, you must go back,” he said. Three times he refused this request of Channa’s; and he delivered over to him both the ornaments and Kanthaka.

Then he thought, “These locks of mine are not suited for a mendicant. Now it is not right for any one else to cut the hair of a future Buddha, so I will cut them off myself with my sword.” Then, taking his sword in his right hand, and holding the plaited tresses, together with the diadem on them, with his left, he cut them off. So his hair was thus reduced to two inches in length, and curling from the right, it lay close to his head. It remained that length as long as he lived, and the beard the same. There was no need at all to shave either hair or beard any more.

The Bodisat, saying to himself, “If I am to become a Buddha, let it stand in the air; if not, let it fall to the ground;” threw the hair and diadem together as he held them towards the sky. The plaited hair and the jewelled turban went a league off and stopped in the air. The archangel Sakka caught sight of it with his divine eye, and receiving it into a jewel casket, a league high, he placed it in the Tāvatiŋsa heaven, in the Dāgaba of the Diadem.

272. Cutting off his hair, with pleasant perfumes sweet,
The Lordly Being cast it to the sky.
The thousand-eyed one, Sakka, the sky God,
Received it humbly in a golden casket.

Again the Bodisat thought, “This my raiment of Benares muslin is not suitable for a mendicant.” Now the archangel Ghaṭikāra, who had formerly been his friend in the time of Kassapa Buddha, was led by his friendship, which had not grown old in that long interval, to think, “To-day my friend is accomplishing the Great Renunciation, I will go and provide him with the requisites of a mendicant.”

273. The three robes, and the alms bowl,
Razor, needle, and girdle,
And a water strainer--these eight
Are the wealth of the monk devout.

Taking these eight requisites of a mendicant, he gave them to him. The Bodisat dressed himself in the outward signs of an Arahat, and adopted the sacred garb of Renunciation; and he enjoined upon Channa to go and, in his name, assure his parents of his safety. And Channa did homage to the Bodisat reverently, and departed.

Now Kanthaka stood listening to the Bodisat as he talked with Channa. And thinking, “From this time forth I shall never see my master more!” he was unable to bear his grief. And going out of their sight, he died of a broken heart; and was reborn in the Tāvatiŋsa heaven as an angel, with the name of Kanthaka. So far the sorrow of Channa had been but single; now torn with the second sorrow of Kanthaka’s death, he returned, weeping and bewailing, to the city.

But the Bodisat, having renounced the world, spent seven days in a mango grove called Anūpiya, hard by that spot, in the joy of salvation. Then he went on foot in one day to Rājagaha, a distance of thirty leagues,[196] and entering the city, begged his food from door to door. The whole city at the sight of his beauty was thrown into commotion, like that other Rājagaha by the entrance of Dhanapālaka, or like heaven itself by the entrance of the Ruler of the Gods.

The guards went to the king and said, describing him, “O king! such and such a being is begging through the town. We cannot tell whether he is a god, or a man, or a Nāga, or a Supaṇṇa,[197] or what he is.”

The king, watching the Great Being from his palace, became full of wonder, and gave orders to his guards, saying, “Go, my men, and see. If it is a superhuman being, it will disappear as soon as it leaves the city; if a god, it will depart through the air; if a snake, it will dive into the earth; if a man, it will eat the food just as it is.”

But the Great Being collected scraps of food. And when he perceived there was enough to support him, he left the city by the gate at which he had entered. And seating himself, facing towards the East, under the shadow of the Paṇḍava rock, he began to eat his meal. His stomach, however, turned, and made as if it would come out of his mouth. Then, though distressed by that revolting food, for in that birth he had never even beheld such food with his eyes, he himself admonished himself, saying, “Siddhattha, it is true you were born in a family where food and drink were easily obtainable, into a state of life where your food was perfumed third-season’s rice, with various curries of the finest kinds. But ever since you saw one clad in a mendicant’s garb, you have been thinking, ‘When shall I become like him, and live by begging my food? would that that time were come!’ And now that you have left all for that very purpose, what is this that you are doing?” And overcoming his feelings, he ate the food.

The king’s men saw this, and went and told him what had happened. Hearing what his messengers said, the king quickly left the city, and approaching the Bodisat, was so pleased at the mere sight of his dignity and grace, that he offered him all his kingdom.

The Bodisat said, “In me, O king! there is no desire after wealth or sinful pleasures. It is in the hope of attaining to complete enlightenment that I have left all.” And when the king gained not his consent, though he asked it in many ways, he said, “Assuredly thou wilt become a Buddha! Deign at least after thy Buddhahood to come to my kingdom first.”

This is here concisely stated; but the full account, beginning, “I sing the Renunciation, how the Wise One renounced the world,” will be found on referring to the Pabbajjā Sutta and its commentary.

And the Bodisat, granting the king’s request, went forward on his way. And joining himself to Āḷāra Kāḷāma, and to Uddaka, son of Rāma, he acquired their systems of ecstatic trance. But when he saw that that was not the way to wisdom, he left off applying himself to the realization of that system of Attainment.[198] And with the intention of carrying out the Great Struggle against sin, and showing his might and resolution to gods and men, he went to Uruvela. And saying, “Pleasant, indeed, is this spot!” he took up his residence there, and devoted himself to the Great Struggle.[199]

And those five mendicants, Kondanya and the rest, begging their way through villages, market towns, and royal cities, met with the Bodisat there. And for six years they stayed by him and served him, while he was carrying out the Great Struggle, with different kinds of service, such as sweeping out the hermitage, and so on; thinking the while, “Now he will become a Buddha! now he will become a Buddha!”

Now the Bodisat thought, “I will perform the uttermost penance.” And he brought himself to live on one seed of the oil plant, or one grain of rice, and even to fast entirely; but the angels gathered the sap of life and infused it into him through the pores of his skin. By this fasting, however, he became as thin as a skeleton; the colour of his body, once fair as gold, became dark; and the Thirty-two signs of a Great Being disappeared. And one day, when walking up and down, plunged in intense meditation, he was overcome by severe pain; and he fainted, and fell.

Then certain of the angels began to say, “The mendicant Gotama is dead.” But others said, “Such is the condition of Arahats (saints).” And those who thought he was dead went and told Suddhodana the king, saying, “Your son is dead.”

“Did he die after becoming a Buddha, or before?”

“He was unable to attain to Buddhahood, and fell down and died in the midst of the Great Struggle.”

When the king heard this, he refused to credit it, saying, “I do not believe it. My son could never die without attaining to Wisdom!”

If you ask, “Why did not the king believe it?” it was because he had seen the miracles at the foot of the Jambu-tree, and on the day when Kāḷa Devala had been compelled to do homage to the Bodisat.

And the Bodisat recovered consciousness again, and stood up. And the angels went and told the king, “Your son, O king, is well.” And the king said, “I knew my son was not dead.”

And the Great Being’s six years’ penance became noised abroad, as when the sound of a great bell is heard in the sky. But he perceived that penance was not the way to Wisdom; and begging through the villages and towns, he collected ordinary material food, and lived upon it. And the Thirty-two signs of a Great Being appeared again upon him, and his body became fair in colour, like unto gold.

Then the five attendant mendicants thought, “This man has not been able, even by six years’ penance, to attain Omniscience; how can he do so now, when he goes begging through the villages, and takes material food? He is altogether lost in the Struggle. To think of getting spiritual advantage from him is like a man, who wants to bathe his head, thinking of using a dew-drop. What is to be got from him?” And leaving the Great Being, they took each his robes and begging bowl, and went eighteen leagues away, and entered Isipatana (a suburb of Benāres, famous for its schools of learning).

Now at that time, at Uruvela, in the village Senāni, there was a girl named Sujātā, born in the house of Senāni the landowner, who, when she had grown up, prayed to a Nigrodha-tree, saying, “If I am married into a family of equal rank, and have a son for my firstborn child, then I will spend every year a hundred thousand on an offering to thee.” And this her prayer took effect.

And in order to make her offering, on the full-moon day of the month of May, in the sixth year of the Great Being’s penance, she had driven in front of her a thousand cows into a meadow of rich grass. With their milk she had fed five hundred cows, with theirs two hundred and fifty, and so on down to eight. Thus aspiring after quantity, and sweetness, and strength, she did what is called, “Working the milk in and in.”

And early on the full-moon day in the month of May, thinking, “Now I will make the offering,” she rose up in the morning early and milked those eight cows. Of their own accord the calves kept away from the cows’ udders, and as soon as the new vessels were placed ready, streams of milk poured into them. Seeing this miracle, Sujātā, with her own hands, took the milk and poured it into new pans; and with her own hands made the fire and began to cook it. When that rice-milk was boiling, huge bubbles rising, turned to the right and ran round together; not a drop fell or was lost; not the least smoke rose from the fireplace.

At that time the four guardian angels of the world came from the four points of the compass, and kept watch by the fireplace. The archangel Brahma held over it a canopy of state. The archangel Sakka put the sticks together and lighted the fire. By their divine power the gods, gathering so much of the Sap of life as would suffice for the support of all the men and angels of the four continents, and their circumjacent two thousand isles--as easily as a man crushing the honey-comb formed round a stick would take the honey--they infused it into the milk-rice. At other times the gods infused the Sap of life into each mouthful of rice as he took it; but on the day of his Buddhahood, and on the day of his Death, they infused it into the very vessel-full of rice itself.

Sujātā, seeing that so many wonders appeared to her on this one day, said to her slave-girl Puṇṇā, “Friend Puṇṇā! Very gracious is our god to-day! Never before have I seen such a wonder. Go at once and keep watch by the holy place.” “Very good, my lady,” replied she; and ran and hastened to the foot of the tree.

Now the Bodisat had seen that night five dreams, and on considering their purport he had drawn the conclusion, “Verily this day I shall become a Buddha.” And at the end of the night he washed and dressed himself, and waiting till the time should come to go round begging his food, he went early, and sat at the foot of that tree, lighting it all up with his glory.

And Puṇṇā coming there saw the Bodisat sitting at the foot of the tree and lighting up all the region of the East; and she saw the whole tree in colour like gold from the rays issuing from his body. And she thought, “To-day our god, descending from the tree, is seated to receive our offering in his own hand.” And excited with joy, she returned quickly, and announced this to Sujātā. Sujātā, delighted at the news, gave her all the ornaments befitting a daughter, saying, “To-day, from this time forth, be thou to me in the place of an elder daughter!”

And since, on the day of attaining Buddhahood, it is proper to receive a golden vessel worth a hundred thousand, she conceived the idea, “We will put the milk-rice into a vessel of gold.” And sending for a vessel of gold worth a hundred thousand, she poured out the well-cooked food to put it therein. All the rice-milk flowed into the vessel, like water from a lotus leaf, and filled the vessel full. Taking it she covered it with a golden dish, and wrapped it in a cloth. And adorning herself in all her splendour, she put the vessel on her head, and went with great dignity to the Nigrodha-tree. Seeing the Bodisat, she was filled with exceeding joy, taking him for the tree-god; and advanced, bowing, from the spot whence she saw him. Taking the vessel from her head, she uncovered it; and fetching sweet-scented water in a golden vase, she approached the Bodisat, and stood by.

The earthenware pot given him by the archangel Ghaṭikāra, which had never till then left him, disappeared at that moment. Not seeing his pot, the Bodisat stretched out his right hand, and took the water. Sujātā placed the vessel, with the milk-rice in it, in the hand of the Great Being. The Great Being looked at her. Pointing to the food, she said, “O, my lord! accept what I have offered thee, and depart whithersoever seemeth to thee good.” And adding, “May there arise to thee as much joy as has come to me!” she went away, valuing her golden vessel, worth a hundred thousand, at no more than a dried leaf.

But the Bodisat rising from his seat, and leaving the tree on the right hand, took the vessel and went to the bank of the Nerañjara river, down into which on the day of their complete Enlightenment so many thousand Bodisats had gone. The name of that bathing place is the Supatiṭṭhita ferry. Putting the vessel on the bank, he descended into the river and bathed.

And having dressed himself again in the garb of the Arahats worn by so many thousand Buddhas, he sat down with his face to the East; and dividing the rice into forty-nine balls of the size of so many single-seeded Palmyra fruits, he ate all that sweet milk-rice without any water.[200] Now that was the only food he had for forty-nine days, during the seven times seven days he spent, after he became a Buddha, at the foot of the Tree of Wisdom. During all that time he had no other food; he did not bathe; nor wash his teeth; nor feel the cravings of nature. He lived on the joy arising from intense Meditation, on the joy arising from the Noble Path, on the joy arising from the Fruit thereof.

But when he had finished eating that milk-rice, he took the golden vessel, and said, “If I shall be able to-day to become a Buddha, let this pot go up the stream; if not, let it go down the stream!” and he threw it into the water. And it went, in spite of the stream, eighty cubits up the river in the middle of the stream, all the way as quickly as a fleet horse. And diving into a whirlpool it went to the palace of Kāḷa Nāgarāja (the Black Snake King); and striking against the bowls from which the three previous Buddhas had eaten, it made them sound “click! click!” and remained stationary as the lowest of them. Kāḷa, the snake-king, hearing the noise, exclaimed, “Yesterday a Buddha arose, now to-day another has arisen;” and he continued to praise him in many hundred stanzas.

But the Bodisat spent the heat of the day in a grove of sāla-trees in full bloom on the bank of the river. And in the evening, when the flowers droop on the stalks, he proceeded, like a lion when it is roused, towards the Tree of Wisdom, along a path five or six hundred yards wide, decked by the gods. The Snakes, and Genii, and Winged Creatures,[201] and other superhuman beings, offered him sweet-smelling flowers from heaven, and sang heavenly songs. The ten thousand world-systems became filled with perfumes and garlands and shouts of approval.

At that time there came from the opposite direction a grass-cutter named Sotthiya, carrying grass; and recognizing the Great Being, he gave him eight bundles of grass. The Bodisat took the grass; and ascending the rising ground round the Bo-tree, he stood at the South of it, looking towards the North. At that moment the Southern horizon seemed to descend below the level of the lowest hell, and the Northern horizon mounting up seemed to reach above the highest heaven.

The Bodisat, saying, “This cannot, I think, be the right place for attaining Buddhahood,” turned round it, keeping it on the right hand; and went to the Western side, and stood facing the East. Then the Western horizon seemed to descend beneath the lowest hell, and the Eastern horizon to ascend above the highest heaven; and to him, where he was standing, the earth seemed to bend up and down like a great cart wheel lying on its axis when its circumference is trodden on.

The Bodisat, saying, “This cannot, I think, be the right place for attaining Buddhahood,” turned round it, keeping it on the right hand; and went to the Northern side, and stood facing the South. Then the Northern horizon seemed to descend beneath the lowest hell, and the Southern horizon to ascend above the highest heaven.

The Bodisat, saying, “This cannot, I think, be the right place for attaining Buddhahood,” turned round it, keeping it on the right hand; and went to the Western side, and stood facing towards the East. Now in the East is the place where all the Buddhas have sat cross-legged; and that place neither trembles nor shakes.

The Great Being, perceiving, “This is the steadfast spot chosen by all the Buddhas, the spot for the throwing down of the temple of sin,” took hold of the grass by one end, and scattered it there. And immediately there was a seat fourteen cubits long. For those blades of grass arranged themselves in such a form as would be beyond the power of even the ablest painter or carver to design.

The Bodisat turning his back upon the trunk of the Bo-tree, and with his face towards the East, made the firm resolve, “My skin, indeed, and nerves, and bones, may become arid, and the very blood in my body may dry up; but till I attain to complete insight, this seat I will not leave!” And he sat himself down in a cross-legged position, firm and immovable, as if welded with a hundred thunderbolts.

At that time the angel Māra, thinking, “Siddhattha the prince wants to free himself from my dominion. I will not let him get free yet!” went to the hosts of his angels, and told the news. And sounding the drum, called “Satan’s War-cry,” he led forth the army of Satan.

That army of Māra stretches twelve leagues before him, twelve leagues to right and left of him, behind him it reaches to the rocky limits of the world, above him it is nine leagues in height; and the sound of its war-cry is heard, twelve leagues away, even as the sound of an earthquake.

Then Māra, the angel, mounted his elephant, two hundred and fifty leagues high, named, “Girded with mountains.” And he created for himself a thousand arms, and seized all kinds of weapons. And of the remainder, too, of the army of Māra, no two took the same weapon; but assuming various colours and various forms, they went on to overwhelm the Great Being.

But the angels of the ten thousand world-systems continued speaking the praises of the Great Being. Sakka, the king of the angels, stood there blowing his trumpet Vijayuttara. Now that trumpet is a hundred and twenty cubits long, and can itself cause the wind to enter, and thus itself give forth a sound which will resound for four months, when it becomes still. The Great Black One, the king of the Nāgas, stood there uttering his praises in many hundred stanzas. The archangel Mahā Brahma stood there, holding over him the white canopy of state. But as the army approached and surrounded the seat under the Bo-tree, not one of the angels was able to stay, and they fled each one from the spot where the army met them. The Black One, the king of the Nāgas, dived into the earth, and went to Mañjerika, the palace of the Nāgas, five hundred leagues in length, and lay down, covering his face with his hands. Sakka, taking the Vijayuttara trumpet on his back, stopped on the rocky verge of the world. Mahā Brahma, putting the white canopy of state on to the summit of the rocks at the end of the earth, went to the world of Brahma. Not a single deity was able to keep his place. The Great Being sat there alone.

But Māra said to his host, “Friends! there is no other man like Siddhattha, the son of Suddhodana. We cannot give him battle face to face. Let us attack him from behind!” The Great Being looked round on three sides, and saw that all the gods had fled, and their place was empty. Then beholding the hosts of Māra coming thick upon him from the North, he thought, “Against me alone this mighty host is putting forth all its energy and strength. No father is here, nor mother, nor brother, nor any other relative to help me. But those ten cardinal virtues have long been to me as retainers fed from my store. So, making the virtues my shield, I must strike this host with the sword of virtue, and thus overwhelm it!” And so he sat meditating on the Ten Perfections.[202]

Then Māra the angel, saying, “Thus will I drive away Siddhattha,” caused a whirlwind to blow. And immediately such winds rushed together from the four corners of the earth as could have torn down the peaks of mountains half a league, two leagues, three leagues high--could have rooted up the shrubs and trees of the forest--and could have made of the towns and villages around one heap of ruins. But through the majesty of the goodness of the Great Being, they reached him with their power gone, and even the hem of his robe they were unable to shake.

Then saying, “I will overwhelm him with water and so slay him,” he caused a mighty rain to fall. And the clouds gathered, overspreading one another by hundreds and by thousands, and poured forth rain; and by the violence of the torrents the earth was saturated; and a great flood, overtopping the trees of the forest, approached the Great Being. But it was not able to wet on his robe even the space where a dew-drop might fall.

Then he caused a storm of rocks to fall. And mighty, mighty, mountain peaks came through the air, spitting forth fire and smoke. But as they reached the Great Being, they changed into bouquets of heavenly flowers.

Then he raised a storm of deadly weapons. And they came--one-edged, and two-edged swords, and spears, and arrows--smoking and flaming through the sky. But as they reached the Great Being, they became flowers from heaven.

Then he raised a storm of charcoal. But the embers, though they came through the sky as red as red Kiŋsuka flowers, were scattered at the feet of the future Buddha as heavenly flowers.

Then he raised a storm of ashes; and the ashes came through the air exceeding hot, and in colour like fire; but they fell at the feet of the future Buddha as the dust of sandal-wood.

Then he raised a storm of sand; and the sand, exceeding fine, came smoking and flaming through the air; but it fell at the feet of the future Buddha as heavenly flowers.

Then he raised a storm of mud. And the mud came smoking and flaming through the air; but it fell at the feet of the future Buddha as heavenly perfume.

Then saying, “By this I will terrify Siddhattha, and drive him away!” he brought on a thick darkness. And the darkness became fourfold: but when it reached the future Buddha, it disappeared as darkness does before the brightness of the sun.

Thus was Māra unable by these nine--the wind, and the rain, and the rocks, and the weapons, and the charcoal, and the ashes, and the sand, and the mud, and the darkness--to drive away the future Buddha. So he called on his host, and said, “Why stand you still? Seize, or slay, or drive away this prince!” And himself mounted the Mountain-girded, and seated on his back, he approached the future Buddha, and cried out, “Get up, Siddhattha, from that seat! It does not belong to thee! It is meant for me!”

The Great Being listened to his words, and said, “Māra! it is not by you that the Ten Cardinal Virtues have been perfected, nor the lesser Virtues, nor the higher Virtues. It is not you who have sacrificed yourself in the five great Acts of Self-renunciation, who have diligently sought after Knowledge, and the Salvation of the world, and the attainment of Wisdom. This seat does not belong to thee, it is to me that it belongs.”

Then the enraged Māra, unable to endure the vehemence of his anger, cast at the Great Being that Sceptre-javelin of his, the barb of which was in shape as a wheel. But it became a garland of flowers, and remained as a canopy over him, whose mind was bent upon good.

Now at other times, when that Wicked One throws his Sceptre-javelin, it cleaves asunder a pillar of solid rock as if it were the tender shoot of a bambū. When, however, it thus turned into a garland-canopy, all the host of Māra shouted, “Now he shall rise from his seat and flee!” and they hurled at him huge masses of rock. But these too fell on the ground as bouquets at the feet of Him whose mind was bent upon good!

And the angels stood on the edge of the rocks that encircle the world; and stretching forwards in amazement, they looked on, saying, “Lost! lost is Siddhattha the Prince, the glorious and beautiful! What can he do to save himself!”

Then the Great Being exclaimed, “I have reached the throne on which sit the Buddhas-to-be when they are perfect in all goodness, on that day when they shall reach Enlightenment.”

And he said to Māra, standing there before him, “Māra, who is witness that thou hast given alms?”

And Māra stretched forth his hand to the hosts of his followers, and said, “So many are my witnesses.”

And that moment there arose a shout as the sound of an earthquake from the hosts of the Evil One, saying, “I am his witness! I am his witness!”

Then the Tempter addressed the Great Being, and said, “Siddhattha! who is witness that thou hast given alms?”

And the Great Being answered, “Thou hast living witnesses that thou hast given alms: and I have in this place no living witness at all. But not counting the alms I have given in other births, let this great and solid earth, unconscious though it be, be witness of the seven hundredfold great alms I gave when I was born as Wessantara!”

And withdrawing his right hand from beneath his robe, he stretched it forth towards the earth, and said, “Are you, or are you not witness of the seven hundredfold great gift I gave in my birth as Wessantara?”

And the great Earth uttered a voice, saying, “I am witness to thee of that!” overwhelming as it were the hosts of the Evil One as with the shout of hundreds of thousands of foes.

Then the mighty elephant “Girded with mountains,” as he realized what the generosity of Wessantara had been, fell down on his knees before the Great Being. And the army of Māra fled this way and that way, so that not even two were left together: throwing off their clothes and their turbans, they fled, each one straight on before him.

But the heavenly hosts, when they saw that the army of Māra had fled, cried out, “The Tempter is overcome! Siddhattha the Prince has prevailed! Come, let us honour the Victor!” And the Nāgas, and the Winged Creatures, and the Angels, and the Archangels, each urging his comrades on, went up to the Great Being at the Bo-tree’s foot, and as they came,

274. At the Bo-tree’s foot the Nāga bands
Shouted, for joy that the Sage had won;
“The Blessed Buddha--he hath prevailed!
And the Tempter is overthrown!”

275. At the Bo-tree’s foot the Winged Ones
Shouted, for joy that the Sage had won;
“The Blessed Buddha--he hath prevailed!
And the Tempter is overthrown!”

276. At the Bo-tree’s foot the Angel hosts
Shouted, for joy that the Sage had won;
“The Blessed Buddha--he hath prevailed!
And the Tempter is overthrown!”

277. At the Bo-tree’s foot the Brahma Gods
Shouted, for joy that the Sage had won;
“The Blessed Buddha--he hath prevailed!
And the Tempter is overthrown!”

The other gods, too, in the ten thousand world-systems, offered garlands and perfumes and uttered his praises aloud.

It was while the sun was still above the horizon, that the Great Being thus put to flight the army of the Evil One. Then, whilst the Bo-tree paid him homage, as it were, by its shoots like sprigs of red coral falling over his robe, he acquired in the first watch of the night the Knowledge of the Past, in the middle watch the Knowledge of the Present, and in the third watch the Knowledge of the Chain of Causation which leads to the Origin of Evil.[203]

Now on his thus revolving this way and that way, and tracing backwards and forwards, and thoroughly realizing the twelvefold Chain of Causation, the ten thousand world-systems quaked twelve times even to their ocean boundaries. And again, when the Great Being, making the ten thousand world-systems to shout for joy, attained at break of day to complete Enlightenment, the whole ten thousand world-systems became glorious as on a festive day. The streamers of the flags and banners raised on the edge of the rocky boundary to the East of the world reached to the very West; and so those on the West and North, and South, reached to the East, and South, and North; while in like manner those of flags and banners on the surface of the earth reached to the highest heaven, and those of flags and banners in heaven swept down upon the earth. Throughout the universe flowering trees put forth their blossoms, and fruit-bearing trees were loaded with clusters of fruit; the trunks and branches of trees, and even the creepers, were covered with bloom; lotus wreaths hung from the sky; and lilies by sevens sprang, one above another, even from the very rocks. The ten thousand world-systems as they revolved seemed like a mass of loosened wreaths, or like a nosegay tastefully arranged: and the great Voids between them, the hells whose darkness the rays of seven suns had never been able to disperse, became filled with light. The waters of the Great Ocean became sweet, down to its profoundest depths; and the rivers were stayed in their course. The blind from birth received their sight; the deaf from birth heard sound; the lame from birth could use their feet; and chains and bonds were loosed, and fell away.[204]

It was thus in surpassing glory and honour, and with many wonders happening around, that he attained Omniscience, and gave vent to his emotion in the Hymn of Triumph, sung by all the Buddhas.

278. Long have I wandered! long!
Bound by the Chain of Life,
Through many births:
Seeking thus long, in vain,
“Whence comes this Life in man, his Consciousness, his Pain!”
And hard to bear is Birth,
When pain and death but lead to Birth again.

Found! It is found!
O Cause of Individuality!
No longer shalt thou make a house for me:
Broken are all thy beams.
Thy ridge-pole shattered!
Into Nirvāna now my mind has past:
The end of cravings has been reached at last![205]

THE PROXIMATE OR LAST EPOCH.[206]

Now whilst he was still seated there, after he had sung the Hymn of Triumph, the Blessed One thought, “It is in order to attain to this throne of triumph that I have undergone successive births for so long a time,[207] that I severed my crowned head from my neck and gave it away, that I tore out my darkened eyes and my heart’s flesh and gave them away, that I gave away to serve others such sons as Jāli the Prince, and such daughters as Kaṇhā Jinā the Princess, and such wives as Maddī the Queen. This seat is a throne of triumph to me, and a throne of glory; while seated on it my aims have been fulfilled: I will not leave it, yet.” And he sat there absorbed in many thoughts[208] for those seven days referred to in the text, beginning, “And then the Blessed One sat motionless for seven days, realizing the bliss of Nirvāna.”

Now certain of the angels began to doubt, thinking, “There must be something more Siddhattha has to do this day, for he still lingers seated there.” The Master, knowing their thoughts, and to appease their doubts, rose into the air, and performed the miracle of making another appearance like unto himself.[209]

And the Master having thus by this miracle dispelled the angels’ doubts, stood a little to the North-east of the throne, thinking, “It was on that throne that I attained omniscience.” And he thus spent seven days gazing steadfastly at the spot where he had gained the result of the deeds of virtue fulfilled through such countless years. And that spot became known as the Dāgaba of the Steadfast Gaze.

Then he created between the throne and the spot where he had stood a cloistered walk, and he spent seven days walking up and down in that jewelled cloister which stretched from East to West. And that spot became known as the Dāgaba of the Jewelled Cloister.

But for the fourth week the angels created to the North-west of the Bo-tree a house of gems; and he spent the week seated there cross-legged, and thinking out the Abhidhamma Pitaka both book by book and generally in respect of the origin of all things as therein explained. (But the Abhidhammikas[210] say that House of Gems here means either a mansion built of the seven kinds of jewels, or the place where the seven books were thought out: and as they give these two explanations of the passage, both should be accepted as correct.)

Having thus spent four weeks close to the Bo-tree, he went, in the fifth week, to the Shepherd’s Nigrodha-tree: and sat there meditating on the Truth, and enjoying the sweetness of Nirvāna.[211]

Now at that time the angel Māra thought to himself, “So long a time have I followed this man seeking some fault in him, and find no sin in him; and now, indeed, he is beyond my power.” And overcome with sorrow he sat down on the highway, and as he thought of the following sixteen things he drew sixteen lines on the ground. Thinking, “I did not attain, as he did, to the perfection of Charity; therefore I have not become like him,” he drew one line. Then thinking, “I did not attain, as he did, to the Perfections of Goodness, and Self-sacrifice, and Wisdom, and Exertion, and Longsuffering, and Truth, and Resolution, and Kindness, and Equanimity;[212] therefore I have not become like him,” he drew nine more lines. Then thinking, “I did not attain the Ten Perfections, the conditions precedent to the acquisition of the extraordinary knowledge of objects of sense, and therefore I have not become like him,” he drew the eleventh line. Then thinking, “I did not attain to the Ten Perfections, the conditions precedent to the acquisition of the extraordinary knowledge of inclinations and dispositions, of the attainment of compassion, of the double miracle, of the removal of hindrances, and of omniscience; therefore I have not become like him,” he drew the five other lines. And so he sat on the highway, drawing sixteen lines for these sixteen thoughts.

At that time Craving, Discontent, and Lust,[213] the three daughters of Māra, could not find their father, and were looking for him, wondering where he could be. And when they saw him, sad at heart, writing on the ground, they went up to him, and asked, “Why, dear, are you sad and sorrowful?”

And he answered, “Beloved, this illustrious mendicant is escaping from my power. Long have I watched, but in vain, to find some fault in him. Therefore it is that I am sad and sorrowful.”

“Be that as it may,” replied they, “think not so. We will subject him to our influence, and come back bringing him captive with us.”

“Beloved,” said he, “you cannot by any means bring him under your influence; he stands firm in faith, unwavering.”

“But we are women,” was the reply; “this moment we will bring him bound by the allurements of passion. Do not you be so grieved.”

So they approached the Blessed One, and said, “O, holy man, upon thee we humbly wait!”

But the Blessed One neither paid any attention to their words, nor raised his eyes to look at them. He sat plunged in the joy of Nirvāna, with a mind made free by the complete extinction of sin.

Then the daughters of Māra considered with themselves: “Various are men’s tastes. Some fall in love with virgins, some with young women, some with mature women, some with older women. We will tempt him in various forms.” So each of them assumed the appearance of a hundred women,--virgins, women who had never had a child, or only once, or only twice, middle-aged women, older women,--and six times they went up to the Blessed One, and professed themselves his humble handmaidens; and to that even the Blessed One paid no attention, since he was made free by the complete extinction of sin.

Now, some teachers say that when the Blessed One saw them approaching in the form of elderly women, he commanded, saying, “Let these women remain just as they are, with broken teeth and bald heads.” This should not be believed, for the Master issues not such commands.

But the Blessed One said, “Depart ye! Why strive ye thus? Such things might be done in the presence of men who linger in the paths of sin; but I have put away lust, have put away ill-will, have put away folly.” And he admonished them in those two verses from the Chapter on the Buddha in the Scripture-Verses:

280. No one can e’er disturb his self-control
Whose inward victories, once gained, are neverlost.
That Sinless One, the Wise, whose mind embraces all--
How--by what guile--what sin--can you allure him to his fall?

281. He who has no ensnaring, venomous desire;
No craving wants to lead him aught astray:
The Sinless One, the Wise, whose mind embraces all--
How--by what guile--what sin--can you allure him to his fall?[214]

And thus these women returned to their father, confessing that he had spoken truth when he had said that the Blessed One was not by any means to be led away by any unholy desire.

But the Blessed One, when he had spent a week at that spot, went on to the Mucalinda-tree. There he spent a week, Mucalinda, the snake-king, when a storm arose, shielding him with seven folds of his hood, so that the Blessed One enjoyed the bliss of salvation as if he had been resting in a pleasant chamber, remote from all disturbance. Thence he went away to a Rājāyatana-tree, and there also sat down enjoying the bliss of salvation. And so seven weeks passed away, during which he experienced no bodily wants, but fed on the joy of Meditation, the joy of the Paths, and the joy of the Fruit thereof (that is, of Nirvāna).[215]

Now, as he sat there on the last day of the seven weeks--the forty-ninth day--he felt a desire to bathe his face. And Sakka, the king of the gods, brought a fruit of the Myrobolan-tree, and gave him to eat. And Sakka, too, provided a tooth-cleanser of the thorns of the snake-creeper, and water to bathe his face. And the Master used the tooth-cleanser, and bathed his face, and sat him down there at the foot of the tree.

At that time two merchants, Tapassu and Bhalluka by name, were travelling from Orissa to Central India[216] with five hundred carts. And an angel, a blood relation of theirs, stopped their carts, and moved their hearts to offer food to the Master. And they took a rice cake, and a honey cake, and went up to the Master, and said, “O, Blessed One! have mercy upon us, and accept this food.”

Now, on the day when he had received the sweet rice-milk, his bowl had disappeared;[217] so the Blessed One thought, “The Buddhas never receive food in their hands. How shall I take it?” Then the four Guardian Angels knew his thought, and, coming from the four corners of heaven, they brought bowls made of sapphire. And the Blessed One accepted them. Then they brought four other bowls, made of jet; and the Blessed One, out of kindness to the four angels, received the four, and, placing them one above another, commanded, saying, “Let them become one.” And the four closed up into one of medium size, becoming visible only as lines round the mouth of it. The Blessed One received the food into that new-created bowl, and ate it, and gave thanks.

The two brothers took refuge in the Buddha, the Truth, and the Order, and became professed disciples. Then, when they asked him, saying, “Lord, bestow upon us something to which we may pay reverence,” with his own right hand he tore from his head, and gave to them, the Hair-relics. And they built a Dāgaba in their own city, and placed the relics within it.[218]