The Life of Buddha and Its Lessons | Page 4

grow To that
great stature of fair sovereignty, When he shall rule all lands--if he will rule-- The king of
kings and glory of his time."
You know how vain were all the precautions taken by the father to prevent the fulfilment
of the prophecy that his beloved son would be the coming Buddha. Though all
suggestions of death were banished from the royal palace, though the city was bedecked
with flowers and gay flags, and every painful object removed from sight when the young
Prince Siddartha visited it, yet the decrees of destiny were not to be baffled, the "voices
of the spirits," the "wandering winds" and the devas, whispered the truth of human

sorrows into his listening ear, and when the appointed hour arrived, the Suddha Devas
threw the spell of slumber over the household, steeped in profound lethargy the sentinels
(as we are told was done by an angel to the gaolers of Peter's prison), rolled back the
triple gates of bronze, strewed the sweet moghra-flowers thickly beneath his horse's feet
to muffle every sound, and he was free. Free? Yes--to resign every earthly comfort, every
sensuous enjoyment, the sweets of royal power, the homage of a Court, the delights of
domestic life: gems, the glitter of gold: rich stuffs, rich food, soft beds: the songs of
trained musicians, and of birds kept prisoners in gay cages, the murmur of perfumed
waters plashing in marble basins, the delicious shade of trees in gardens where art had
contrived to make nature even lovelier than herself. He leaps from his saddle when at a
safe distance from the palace, flings the jewelled rein to his faithful groom, Channa, cuts
off his flowing locks, gives his rich costume to a hunter in exchange for his own, plunges
into the jungle, and is free:
To tread its paths with patient, stainless feet, Making its dusty bed, its loneliest wastes
My dwelling, and its meanest things my mates: Clad in no prouder garb than outcasts
wear, Fed with no meals save what the charitable Give of their will, sheltered by no more
pomp, Than the dim cave lends or the jungle-bush. This will I do because the woeful cry
Of life and all flesh living cometh up Into my ears, and all my soul is full Of pity for the
sickness of this world: Which I will heal, if healing may be found By uttermost
renouncing and strong strife.
Thus masterfully does Sir Edwin Arnold depict the sentiment which provoked this Great
Renunciator. The testimony of thousands of millions who, during the last twenty-five
centuries, have professed the Buddhistic religion, proves that the secret of human misery
was at last solved by this divine self-sacrifice, and the true path to Nirvana opened.
The joy that he brought to the hearts of others, Buddha first tasted himself. He found that
the pleasures of the eye, the ear, the taste, touch and smell are fleeting and deceptive: he
who gives value to them brings only disappointment and bitter sorrow upon himself. The
social differences between men he found were equally arbitrary and illusive; caste bred
hatred and selfishness; riches strife, envy and malice. So in founding his Faith he laid the
bottom of its foundation-stones upon all this worldly dirt, and its dome in the clear serene
of the world of Spirit. He who can mount to a clear conception of Nirvana will find his
thought far away above the common joys and sorrows of petty men. As to one who
ascends to the top of Chimborazo or the Himalayan crags, and sees men on the earth's
surface crawling to and fro like ants, so equally small do bigots and sectarians appear to
him. The mountain climber has under his feet the very clouds from whose sun-painted
shapes the poet has figured to himself the golden streets and glittering domes of the
materialistic Heaven of a personal God. Below him are all the various objects out of
which the world's pantheons have been manufactured: around, above--Immensity. And so
also, far down the ascending plane of thought that leads from the earth towards the
Infinite, the philosophic Buddhist describes, at different plateaux, the heavens and hells,
the gods and demons, of the materialistic creed-builders.
What are the lessons to be derived from the life and teachings of this heroic prince of
Kapilavastu? Lessons of gratitude and benevolence. Lessons of tolerance for the clashing

opinions of men who live, move and have their being, think and aspire, only in the
material world. The lesson of a common tie of brotherhood among all men. Lessons of
manly self-reliance, of equanimity in breasting whatsoever of good or ill may happen.
Lessons of the meanness of the rewards, the pettiness of the misfortunes of a shifting
world of illusions. Lessons of