MỤC
LỤC (Content)
Lời
Tựa
Preface
About
Author
Notices
of the Light of Asia
1
Đản Sanh và Thời Niên Thiếu (Birth and Youth)
2
Hôn Phối (The Wedding)
3
Ba Tín Hiệu (The Three signs)
4
Từ Bỏ (Renunciation)
5
Tìm Đạo (The search)
6
Giác Ngộ (Enlightenment)
7
Trở Về (The Return)
8
Nhập Niết Bàn (Parinibbana)
Lời
Tựa
Quyển
Ánh Sáng Á Châu này tức là chuyện kể đời của Phật Thích
Ca bằng văn thi, bản chánh soạn bằng Anh ngữ, do công phu
của nhà văn hào người Anh tên là Sir Edwin Arnold sáng tác
bằng văn vần một cách thanh nhã và đoan trang. Ông Léon Sorg
dịch ra Pháp văn nhan đề " La lumière de l'Asie". Nay tôi nương
theo quyển Pháp văn mà dịch ra Việt văn, nhan đề "Ánh sáng
Á Châu". Mặc dầu dịch ra văn vần thì rất khó khăn và phải
phí rất nhiều thời gian, nhưng tôi cũng cố gắng phiên dịch
bằng thi thượng lục hạ bát, mong rằng với thể văn ấy,
bạn đọc cũng như tôi, chúng ta ắt dễ cảm hóa để hấp
thụ Giáo lý thanh cao, Triết học thâm thúy, Siêu hình tinh
vi mà các nhà tôn giáo, văn hóa, triết học và khoa học Âu
Mỹ đời nay đều công nhận một cách kính phục .
Thật
vậy, Đức Phật Thích Ca có sống đời cách nay hai ngàn rưỡi
năm. Tuy là hàng Vương giả sang trọng, nhưng ngài hòa mình
vào các tầng lớp nhân dân, nhứt là ngài thường đoái tưởng
tới hạng bình dân, tới hạng nghèo hèn, chia bát cơm manh
áo do họ thân tặng, uống chén nước bát sữa do bàn tay lem
luốc của họ kính dâng . Nhân các dịp gần gủi thân mật
ấy, Ngài đem lý từ hòa, hỷ xả mà giáo hóa họ, đem lẽ
tiến hóa mà cảm thông họ. Nhờ vậy, vào thời buổi ấy,
ở Ấn độ, người ta sống một đời sống rất hạnh phúc,
kẻ lê thứ thì kính mến nhà trí thức, nhà tôn giáo, nhà
cai trị, nhà quân quyền. Còn kẻ bề trên nhờ hấp thụ Phật
lý mà đem lòng thương tưởng lê dân, cộng tác với Phật
trong việc thanh bình đất nước: người người trở nên hòa
lạc, thân ái từ tâm tư đến ngôn ngữ và hành vi vậy.
Chẳng
những riêng đối với loài người trong các giai cấp, mà đối
với hạng thú cầm sống trong cảnh đọa lạc hoặc trong cảnh
kém tiến hóa, đối với các linh hồn bị trừng phạt nơi
cảnh thấp vì đã lỡ lạc lầm, cùng đối với các Thần
Tiên đương hưởng phước ở cảnh cao nhờ trước đã sống
đời một cách phước thiện, Đức Phật cũng hằng tiếp
xúc với họ để an ủi họ hoặc để nâng chí họ trên đường
tiến tu tiến đức.
Khi
xem qua quyển sách nầy, quí bạn sẽ thấy rằng Giáo lý của
Phật không phải là mê tín, không phải là dị đoan. Mà là
một nền Đạo đầy đủ, đáng tôn, đáng kính, thuần lương,
ôn hòa, rất hợp với tư tưởng của đa số các nhà trí
thức ngàn đời. Trong đó, có chứa thuyết trung-dung, lẽ luân
thường của Khổng Tử, lý vô vi thanh tịnh của Lão Tử,
lẽ huyền bí, tín ngưỡng và giải thoát của Gia Tô, lý tu
thân chỉnh tâm của các nhà triết học Hy lạp, nhứt là những
lẽ cao siêu về sinh vật, về vũ trụ, mà các nhà khoa học
gần đây đều công nhận và các nhà khoa học hiện nay đương
tìm tòi thêm ra để biện minh cho rành rẽ.
Vả
lại, quyển " Ánh Sáng Á Châu " nầy có cái đặc sắc là
không thần quyền hóa đức Phật, không đề cao địa vị
thánh thần của Ngài, mà đặt Ngài vào vị trí một Người,
cùng cảm những mối cảm của nhân gian, nhưng biết kiềm
chế các mối cảm ấy để thoát ly khỏi lãnh vực cảm xúc,
trìu mến mà trở nên tự tại, giải thoát và giải thoát
cho đời.
Như
lúc Thái tử sắp bước ra khỏi thâm cung, bấy giờ người
vợ hiền đang ngủ yên, thì có mấy câu:
Ngài
rằng: "Nệm ấm chăn tơ,
Trượng
phu thôi chẳng bao giờ nằm đây! »
Ba
lần Ngài cất bước đi,
Ba
lần trở lại, ấy vì Da-Du...
Trước
khi thót lên ngựa để ra khỏi hoàng thành, trước khi rời
kinh đô Ca-tỳ-la-vệ để lên non tu luyện, thì có những câu:
Thương
cha, mến vợ rất sâu,
Còn
hơn yêu chỗ vui cầu của ta,
Nhưng
nay đành phải lìa xa,
Tầm
phương cứu vợ, cứu cha, cứu đời.
Và
sau khi thành Đạo, sau khi thành Phật đã nhiều năm, bấy giờ
Ngài trở về kinh thành Ca-tỳ-la-vệ mà hóa độ thân nhơn,
thì có những câu:
Ngài
đà nguyện dứt tình nồng,
Không
còn đụng chạm thịt hồng nữ nhơn.
Tại
sao lúc nọ đứng gần,
Để
cho vợ cũ ân cần ôm hôn?
Ngài
rằng: Quảng đại tâm hồn
Cũng
còn luyến ái như phồn nhỏ nhen.
Mặc
dầu cao nhã đáng khen,
Chớ
đem Giải thoát làm phiền người ta.
Vậy
mong rằng các bạn đem lòng bình thản, lòng an nhiên, lòng
thanh tịnh, lòng kính tín mà xem đi xem lại quyển sách này,
ắt sẽ được vững tâm trên con đường Đạo lý, sẽ vững
chí để lần bước theo gót các trang Hiền Thánh ngàn xưa
mà người đời hằng tôn kính vậy.
Sài
Gòn, tháng năm dương lịch 1965
Phật
tử ĐOÀN TRUNG CÒN
This
uplifting poem has always been one for our favourites, so it's lovely to
see this new and well-bound edition. Though written more than a hundred
years ago, it still retains the power to move us in a way that no prose
rendering of the life of the Buddha can. Its vivid, jewelled language makes
us see the eagle wheeling in the sky, the snake beneath the rock,the moonlight
shining on the floor while all in the palace sleep. The spreading branches
of the Tree of Wisdom...And we cannot but admire the courage, determination
and self-sacrifice of the Indian price who, out of compassion, left his
palace to find a remedy for the sufferings of the world.
PREFACE
In
the following Poem I have sought, by the medium of an imaginary Buddhist
votary, to depict the life and character and indicate the philosophy of
that noble hero and reformer, Prince Gautama of India, the founder of Buddhism.
A
generation ago little or nothing was known in Europe of this great faith
of Asia, which had nevertheless existed during twenty-four centuries, and
at this day surpasses, in the number of its followers and the area of its
prevalence, any other form of creed. Four hundred and seventy millions
of our race live and die in the tenets of Gautama; and the spiritual dominions
of this ancient teacher extend, at the present time, from Nepal and Ceylon
over the whole Eastern Peninsula to China, Japan, Tibet, Central Asia,
Siberia, and even Swedish Lapland. India itself might fairly be included
in this magnificent empire of belief, for though the profession of Buddhism
has for the most part passed away from the land of its birth, the mark
of Gautama's sublime teaching is stamped ineffaceably upon modern Brahmanism,
and the most characteristic habits and convictions of the Hindus are clearly
due to the benign influence of Buddha's precepts.
More
than a third of mankind, therefore, owe their moral and religious ideas
to this illustrious prince, whose personality, though imperfectly revealed
in the existing sources of information, cannot but appear the highest,
gentlest, holiest, and most beneficent, with one exception, in the history
of Thought. Discordant in frequent particulars, and sorely overlaid by
corruptions, inventions, and misconceptions, the Buddhistical books yet
agree in the one point of recording nothing -- no single act or word --
which mars the perfect purity and tenderness of this Indian teacher, who
united the truest princely qualities with the intellect of a sage and the
passionate devotion of a martyr. Even M. Barthelemy St. Hilaire, totally
misjudging, as he does, many points of Buddhism, is well cited by Professor
Max Muller as saying of Prince Siddartha, "Sa vie n'a point de tache. Son
constant héroisme égale sa conviction ; et si la théorie qu'il préconise
est fausse, les exemples personnels qu'il donne sont irréprochables. Il
est le modèle achevé de toutes les vertus qu'il prêche; son abnégation,
sa charité, son inaltérable douceur ne se démentent point un seul instant.
. . . Il prépare silencieusement sa doctrine par six années de retraite
et de méditation; il la propage par la seule puissance de la parole et
de la persuasion pendant plus d'un demi-siècle, et quand il meurt entre
les bras de ses disciples, c'est avec la sérénite d'un sage qui a pratiqué
le bien toute sa vie, et qui est assuré d'avoir trouvé le vrai." To Gautama
has consequently been given this stupendous conquest of humanity; and --
though he discountenanced ritual, and declared himself, even when on the
threshold of Nirvana, to be only what all other men might become -- the
love and gratitude of Asia, disobeying his mandate, have given him fervent
worship. Forests of flowers are daily laid upon his stainless shrines,
and countless millions of lips daily repeat the formula, "I take refuge
in Buddha!"
The
Buddha of this poem -- if, as need not be doubted, he really existed --
was born on the borders of Nepal, about 620 B.C., and died about 543 B.C.
at Kusinagara in Oudh. In point of age, therefore, most other creeds are
youthful compared with this venerable religion, which has in it the eternity
of a universal hope, the immortality of a boundless love, an indestructible
element of faith in final good, and the proudest assertion ever made of
human freedom. The extravagances which disfigure the record and practice
of Buddhism are to be referred to that inevitable degradation which priesthoods
always inflict upon great idea committed to their charge. The power and
sublimity of Gautama's original doctrines should be estimated by their
influence, not by their interpreters; nor by that innocent but lazy and
ceremonious church which has arisen on the foundations of the Buddhistic
Brotherhood or "Sangha."
I have
put my poem into a Buddhist's mouth, because, to appreciate the spirit
of Asiatic thoughts, they should be regarded from the Oriental point of
view; and neither the miracles which consecrate this record, nor the philosophy
which it embodies, could have been otherwise so naturally reproduced. The
doctrine of Transmigration, for instance -- startling to modern minds --
was established and thoroughly accepted by the Hindus of Buddha's time;
that period when Jerusalem was being taken by Nebuchadnezzar, when Nineveh
was falling to the Medes, and Marseilles was founded by the Phocaeans.
The exposition here offered of so antique a system is of necessity incomplete,
and -- in obedience to the laws of poetic art -- passes rapidly by many
matters philosophically most important, as well as over the long ministry
of Gautama. But my purpose has been obtained if any just conception be
here conveyed of the lofty character of this noble prince, and of the general
purport of his doctrines. As to these there has arisen prodigious controversy
among the erudite, who will be aware that I have taken the imperfect Buddhistic
citations much as they stand in Spence Hardy's work, and have also modified
more than one passage in the received narratives. The views, however, here
indicated of "Nirvana," "Dharma," "Karma," and the other chief features
of Buddhism, are at least the fruits of considerable study, and also of
a firm conviction that a third of mankind would never have been brought
to believe in blank abstractions, or in Nothingness as the issue and crown
of Being.
Finally,
in reverence to the illustrious Promulgator of this "Light of Asia," and
in homage to the many eminent scholars who have devoted noble labors to
his memory, for which both repose and ability are wanting to me, I beg
that the shortcomings of my too-hurried study may be forgiven. It has been
composed in the brief intervals of days without leisure, but is inspired
by an abiding desire to aid in the better mutual knowledge of East and
West. The time may come, I hope, when this book and my "Indian Song of
Songs" will preserve the memory of one who loved India and the Indian peoples.
EDWIN
ARNOLD, C.S.I.
London,
July, 1879.
SIR
EDWIN ARNOLD
Edwin
Arnold was born in Gravesend on 10th June, 1832. He went to Oxford University
where he won the Newdigate prize for poetry. After university he taught
at King Edward's School, Birmingham and Bombay University in India.
Arnold
returned to England in 1861 and joined the staff of the Daily Telegraph.
On the death of Thornton Leigh Hunt in 1873, Arnold was appointed editor
of the newspaper. His views were less liberal than those of Hunt and the
paper began to question the policies of the government led by William Gladstone.
Arnold was particularly upset by attempts to cut defence expenditure and
claimed that Gladstone would "fling half our Empire overboard and jettison
India herself in order to teach Britain modesty." Whereas Hunt used to
describe Gladstone in the Daily Telegraph as the "People's William", Arnold
favoured the more imperialistic policies of his Conservative opponent,
Benjamin Disraeli.
Arnold
recruited staff that shared his political opinions and worked closely with
Ellis Ashmead Bartlett, a strong advocate of British Imperialism in the
House of Commons. Under the editorship of Arnold circulation of the newspaper
continued to grow. In 1870 the daily average circulation was 196,855 and
by 1877 it had risen to 242,215.
Arnold
had a deep love of exploration and persuaded the proprietor, Edward Levy-Lawson,
to spend large sums of money to obtain dramatic stories. This included
joining with Bennett of the New York Herald to finance Stanley's search
for David Livingstone in Africa. The Daily Telegraph also largely financed
Sir Harry Johnson's exploration of Kilimanjaro in 1884.
A
loyal supporter of the Conservative Party, Arnold was granted a knighthood
by the Marquess of Salisbury in 1888. Later that year he resigned as editor
of the Daily Telegraph and became the paper's travelling commissioner.
Arnold
wrote the highly acclaimed, The Great Renunciation (1879). Other titles
written by Arnold include India Revisted (1886), Seas and Lands (1891),
Wandering Worlds (1894) and East and West (1896). Edwin Arnold, who suffered
from failing eyesight in his later years, died on 24th March, 1904.
(1)
Harry Levy-Lawson, The Story of the Daily Telegraph (1955)
All
the traditions of the Daily Telegraph were Liberal. From the beginning
it supported Palmerston. For Gladstone it coined the title of "the People's
William" and for many years Edward Levy-Lawson saw Gladstone or Montagu
Corry, his confidential secretary, almost daily.
Edward
Arnold who in Eastern policy was continually and vehemently against Gladstone.
The break was gradual. During Disraeli's second administration the Daily
Telegraph "crossed the floor" and became a Conservative newspaper.
NOTICES
OF "THE LIGHT OF ASIA."
(1)
Rev. Wm. H. Channing, London.
[Extract
from a Letter to a Friend in Concord, Mass.]
"The
Light of Asia " is a poem in which the effort is made to bring before our
modern age, in the Western world, that sublime embodiment of the finest
genius of the Orient, in its prime, whom we call BUDDHA, in living form,
and to sketch this outline of his speculative and ethical systems in vivid
pictorial representation. And marvellously successful has the effort of
the poet proved. Those who are most familiar with the semi-historical,
semi-legendary biographies of Prince Siddârtha Gautama, will be the most
prompt to admit that never has the image of the serene and heroic, saintly
and gentle sage been more beautifully portrayed than in this poem; and
from infancy, through youth and manhood, to his new birth in extreme age,
his whole growth towards perfection is so glowingly brought before the
reader, that he feels as if lifted into personal communion with this grand
and lovely teacher of the "Way to Peace." Buddha lives and moves and speaks
again in these pages, as he lived and moved and taught amid the sacred
groves of India.
But
one of the chief charms of the poem is the singularly vital reality with
which the very scenery and climate, the people and the communities, the
manners, dwellings, and actual society of Hindostan, two thousand years
or more ago, is made to pass, as if in palingenesia, before and around
us. The long-buried past is reanimated at the poet's touch. And from the
midst of the rush and turmoil of our restless modern age we enter, behind
a lifted veil, into the tranquil stillness, calm dignity, and meditative
quiet of the East, as if from sultry, dusty, summer noon we could bathe
our fevered brows, in the fresh, sweet, dewy air of a spring morning. And
the contrast rejuvenates our fagged and weary powers delightfully.
One
is the more surprised, in reading this poem, to learn that the writer has
created this lovely work of art, not in the stilness of a country solitude,
nor amid the cloistered aisles of universities, but right in the throng
and uproar of this bustling metropolis. For the poet is one of the most
indefatigable editors of the daily press in London, and every morning,
week in, week out, addresses the largest circle of readers approached by
any writer of "leaders" in Great Britain, or probably in Christendom; for
Edwin Arnold is editor-in-chief of the Daily Telegraph, which has an average
circulation of a quarter of a million of copies, with probably four readers
a copy. And certainly no editor writes on a wider range of topics, political,
social, scientific, &c. That, amidst the responsibilities, interruptions,
anxieties, harassing cares, and ever-varying distractions of such a life,
a poet could evoke, in his few hours for quiet thought, an epic in eight
books, on one of the loftiest themes for spiritual contemplation, and one
of the purest ideal types of a heavenly human life known in history, is
certainly a surprising instance of concentrated power.
Within
my experience, or my acquaintance with literary efforts, no greater success
of this kind has been attained; for to my certain knowledge this book was
only conceived and begun last September, and has been perfected and published
in one of the most disturbed and trying periods that this nation has passed
through for this generation at least.
This
effort, indeed, has been a labor of love, and so a rest and refreshment
to the poet; for Edwin Arnold is an impassioned lover of India, and has
for years been a loving admirer of Buddha. So the poem wrote itself out
of his memory and imagination. Trained at Oxford, where he won honors as
a classic, and gained the Newdigate Prize for Poetry, after publishing
a small volume of poems, Mr. Arnold went in early life to Hindostan, where
he was appointed as Principal of the Deccan College at Poona. Here he resided
for seven years, acquiring a knowledge of the Sanscrit and other Indian
languages, and translating the very interesting "Book of Good Counsels,"
the "Hitopordesa," which has long been a valued text-book for Sanscrit
scholars, as it is accompanied with an interlinear text and vocabulary,
&c. In India be became the friend of Lord Dalhousie, John Lawrence
(the saviour of the Punjaub, afterward Lord Lawrence), and other leading
statesmen; and was on the road to preferment when he was compelled to leave
his much-loved India by the death of a child and the illness of his young
wife. After his return, he wrote and published, in two volumes, an important
and instructive "History of Lord Dalhousie's Administration," and printed
another volume of poems, and a translation of one of the books of Herodotus.
Becoming
then engaged as a sub-editor in the Telegraph, where during our civil war
he defended the cause of freedom and confidently predicted the triumph
of the Republic, he gradually rose to higher influence, until, after the
death of Thornton Hunt, he was advanced to the responsible post of editor-in-chief,
and has become greatly distinguished as a writer of powerful "leaders."
But amidst his incessant toil, he has still found leisure for literary
work, having translated a volume of the poets of Greece, accompanied by
biographical and critical notices, and an exquisitely beautiful version
of the "Indian Song of Songs," -- one of the most characteristic productions
of Hindoo literature. And now, at length, he has found a fit sphere for
his poetic genius in this representation of Buddha, in which he has embodied
his own highest ideals and aspirations.
In
speaking thus warmly, and enthusiastically even, of this poem, it is nowise
my wish or end to indorse Mr. Arnold's view of Buddha and his system; for,
in several very important and even essential points my estimate of Gautama
differs very widely from the poet's, both as to the character of the MAN,
and the principles and tendency of his philosophical and moral SYSTEM.
But Goethe's prime rule of criticism has long been my guide, -- "Before
passing judgment on a book, a work of art, a scheme of doctrine, or a person,
first give yourself up to a sympathetic appreciation of them." Now Mr.
Arnold has conceived and composed his poem as a HINDOO BUDDHIST. In that
spirit let this beautiful book be read, -- and then criticised.
________________________________________
(2)
DR. RIPLEY, in the New York Tribune.
The
fruits of an earnest study of Oriental literature and of a personal residence
of several years in India are embodied in this stately poetical romance.
From the dim and shadowy legends of the princely founder of the great religion
of the East, scanty and uncertain as they prove to be under the hand of
critical research, Mr. Arnold has constructed a poem, which for affluence
of imagination, splendor of diction, and virile descriptive power, will
not be easily matched among the most remarkable productions in the literature
of the day. His starting-point is the historical importance of the Buddhist
faith, which has existed during twenty-four centuries, and now surpasses
in the number of its followers and the extent of its prevalence any other
form of religious belief. Not less than four hundred and seventy millions
of our race live and die in the tenets of Gautama. His spiritual dominions
at the present time reach from Nepaul and Ceylon over the whole Eastern
Peninsula to China, Japan, Thibet, Central Asia, Siberia, and even Swedish
Lapland. "More than a third of mankind, therefore," Mr. Arnold remarks,
"owe their moral and religious ideas to this illustrious Prince, whose
personality, thought imperfectly revealed in the existing sources of information,
cannot but appear the highest, gentlest, holiest, and most beneficent,
with one exception, in the history of Thought." Not a single act or word
is recorded "which mars the perfect purity and tenderness of this Indian
teacher, who united the truest princely qualities with the intellect of
a sage and the passionate devotion of a martyr."
The
author has put his poem into the mouth of an Indian Buddhist, because the
spirit of Asiatic thought must be regarded from an Oriental point of view,
in order to gain a correct appreciation of its significance. After relating
the circumstances attending the birth of Prince Siddârtha (known as the
founder of a religion by the name of Buddha), the poet proceeds to describe
his education under the discipline provided by his wise and liberal father,
who spared none of the resources of an Oriental monarchy for the training
and culture of the youthful Prince. He early displayed a precocity of intellect
and character, which surpassed the highest skill of his teachers, and presaged
a future of marvellous import: --
Which
reverence
Lord
Buddha kept to all his schoolmasters,
Albeit
beyond their learning taught; in speech
Right
gentle, yet so wise, princely of mien,
Yet
softly-mannered; modest, deferent,
And
tender-hearted, though of fearless blood;
No
bolder horseman in the youthful band
E'er
rode in gay chase of the shy gazelles
No
keener driver of the chariot
In
mimic contests scoured the Palace-courts;
Yet
in mid-play the boy would oftfimes pause,
Letting
the deer pass free; would ofttimes yield
His
half-won race because the laboring steeds
Fetched
painful breath; or if his princely mates
Saddened
to lose, or if some wistful dream
Swept
o'er his thoughts. And ever with the years
Waxed
this compassionateness of our Lord,
Even
as a great tree grows from two soft leaves
To
spread its shade afar; but hardly yet
Knew
the young child of sorrow, pain, or tears,
Save
as strange names for things not felt by kings,
Nor
ever to be felt.
The
poet then relates an instance illustrating the early development of the
"quality of mercy" in the bosom of the Prince. It happened one vernal day
that a wild swan was shot by an idle courtier as the flock flew near the
palace, and the wounded bird fell into the hands of Siddârtha. As he soothed
the frightened, fluttering bird with tender touch, and drew the arrow from
its side, he pressed the barb into his own wrist to make trial of the pain:
--
Then
some one came who said, "My Prince hath shot
A
swan, which fell among the roses here.
He
bids me pray you send it. Will you send?
"Nay,"
quoth Siddârtha, "if the bird were dead
To
send it to the slayer might be well,
But
the swan lives; my cousin hath but killed
The
god-like speed which throbbed in this white wing."
And
Devadatta answered, "The wild thing,
Living
or dead, is his who fetched it down;
'T
was no man's in the clouds, but fall'n 't is mine,
Give
me my prize, fair Cousin." Then our Lord
Laid
the swan's neck beside his own smooth cheek
And
gravely spake, "Say no! the bird is mine,
The
first of myriad things which shall be mine
By
right of mercy and love's lordliness.
For
now I know, by what within me stirs,
That
I shall teach compassion unto men
And
be a speechless world's interpreter,
Abating
this accursed flood of woe,
Not
man's alone, but if the Prince disputes,
Let
him submit this matter to the wise
And
we will wait their word." So was it done;
In
full divan the business had debate,
And
many thought this thing and many that,
Till
there arose an unknown priest who said,
"If
life be aught, the saviour of a life
Owns
more the living thing than he can own
Who
sought to slay -- the slayer spoils and wastes,
The
cherisher sustains, give him the bird";
Which
judgment all found just; but when the King
Sought
out the sage for honor, he was gone;
And
some one saw a hooded snake glide forth, --
The
gods come ofttimes thus! So our Lord Buddh
Began
his works of mercy.
His
experience of human suffering upon a visit with his father to different
scenes in the royal domain, is greatly enlarged by the suggestive spectacle,
and a fresh impulse is given to his already deep sympathy with the woes
of his kind: --
On
another day, the King said, "Come,
Sweet
son! and see the pleasaunce of the Spring,
And
how the fruitful earth is wooed to yield
Its
riches to the reaper; how my realm --
Which
shall be thine when the pile flames for me --
Feeds
all its mouths and keeps the King's chest filled.
Fair
is the season with new leaves, bright blooms,
Green
grass, and cries of plough-time." So they rode
Into
a land of wells and gardens, where,
All
up and down the rich red loam, the steers
Strained
their strong shoulders in the creaking yoke
Dragging
the ploughs; the fat soil rose and rolled
In
smooth dark waves back from the plough; who drove
Planted
both feet upon the leaping share
To
make the furrow deep; among the palms
The
tinkle of the rippling water rang,
And
where it ran the glad earth 'broidered it
With
balsams and the spears of lemon-grass.
Elsewhere
were sowers who went forth to sow
And
all the jungle laughed with nesting-songs,
And
all the thickets rustled with small life
Of
lizard, bee, beetle, and creeping things
Pleased
at the Spring-time. In the mango-sprays
The
sun-birds flashed; alone at his green forge
Toiled
the loud coppersmith; bee-eaters hawked
Chasing
the purple butterflies; beneath,
Striped
squirrels raced, the mynas perked and picked,
The
nine brown sisters chattered in the thorn,
The
pied fish-tiger hung above the pool,
The
egrets stalked among the buffaloes,
The
kites sailed circles in the golden air;
About
the painted temple peacocks flew,
The
blue doves cooed from every well, far off
The
village drums beat for some marriage-feast
All
things spoke peace and plenty, and the Prince
Saw
and rejoiced. But, looking deep, he saw
The
thorns which grow upon this rose of life
How
the swart peasant sweated for his wage,
Toiling
for leave to live; and how he urged
The
great-eyed oxen through the flaming hours,
Goading
their velvet flanks: then marked he, too,
How
lizard fed on ant, and snake on him,
And
kite on both; and how the fish-hawk robbed
The
fish-tiger of that which it had seized;
The
shrike chasing the bulbul, which did chase
The
jewelled butterflies; till everywhere
Each
slew a slayer and in turn was slain
Life
living upon death. So the fair show
Veiled
one vast, savage, grim conspiracy
Of
mutual murder, from the worm to man,
Who
himself kills his fellow; seeing which --
The
hungry ploughman and his laboring kine,
Their
dewlaps blistered with the bitter yoke,
The
rage to live which makes all living strife --
The
Prince Siddârtha sighed. "Is this," he said,
"That
happy earth they brought me forth to see?
How
salt with sweat the peasant's bread! how hard
The
oxen's service! in the brake how fierce
The
war of weak and strong! i' th' air what plots!
No
refuge e'en in water. Go aside
A
space, and let me muse on what ye show."
So
saying, the good Lord Buddha seated him
Under
a jambu-tree, with ankles crossed, --
As
holy statues sit, -- and first began
To
meditate this deep disease of life,
What
its far source and whence its remedy.
So
vast a pity filled him, such wide love
For
living things, such passion to heal pain,
That
by their stress his princely spirit passed
To
ecstasy, and, purged from mortal taint
Of
sense and self, the boy attained thereat
Dhyana,
first step of "the path."
Upon
the attainment of his eighteenth year by the Prince, three sumptuous palaces
were built by command of his father, surrounded with delicious blooming
gardens, diversified with sportive streams and odorous thickets, in which
Siddârtha strayed at will, with a new pleasure for every hour. The lad
was happy, life was rich, and his youthful blood moved quickly in his veins:
--
Yet
still came
The
shadows of his meditation back,
As
the lake's silver dulls with driving clouds.
The
heart of the King was troubled at these signs, and he consulted his ministers
as to the course to be pursued with the son, dearer to him than his heart's
blood, and destined to trample on the neck of all his enemies, in the sway
of universal dominion. A shrewd old fox among the counsellors recommended
the power of love as the cure for the waywardness of the boy: --
"Find
him soft wives and pretty playfellows,
Eyes
that make heaven forget, and lips of balm."
The
King feared lest the dainty boy should not find a wife to his mind, if
permitted to range the garden of Beauty at will, and accepted the advice
of another counsellor that a festival should be appointed in which the
maids of the realm should contend for the palm of youth
and
grace: --
"Let
the Prince give the prizes to the fair,
And,
when the lovely victors pass his seat,
There
shall be those who mark if one or two
Change
the fixed sadness of his tender cheek;
So
we may choose for Love with Love's own eyes,
And
cheat his Highness into happiness."
This
thing seemed good; wherefore upon a day
The
criers bade the young and beautiful
Pass
to the palace, for 't was in command
To
hold a court of pleasure, and the Prince
Would
give the prizes, something rich for all,
The
richest for the fairest judged. So flocked
Kapilavastu's
mailens to the gate,
Each
with her dark hair newly smoothed and bound,
Eyelashes
lustred with the soorma-stick,
Fresh-bathed
and scented; all in shawls and cloths
Of
gayest; slender hands and feet new-stained
With
crimson, and the tilka-spots stamped bright.
Fair
show it was of all those Indian girls
Slow-pacing
past the throne with large black eyes
Fixed
on the ground, for when they saw the Prince
More
than the awe of Majesty made beat
Their
fluttering hearts, he sate so passionless,
Gentle
but so beyond them. Each maid took
With
down-dropped lids her gift, afraid to gaze;
And
if the people hailed some lovelier one,
Beyond
her rivals worthy royal smiles,
She
stood like a scared antelope to touch
The
gracious hand, then fled to join her mates
Trembling
at favor, so divine he seemed,
So
high and saint-like and above her world.
Thus
filed they, one bright maid after another,
The
city's flowers, and all this beauteous march
Was
ending and the prizes spent, when last
Came
young Yasôdhara, and they that stood
Nearest
Siddârtha saw the princely boy
Start,
as the radiant girl approached. A form
Of
heavenly mould; a gait like Parvati's;
Eyes
like a hind's in love-time, face so fair
Words
cannot paint its spell; and she alone
Gazed
full -- folding her palms across her breasts --
On
the boy's gaze, her stately neck unbent.
"Is
there a gift for me?" she asked, and smiled.
"The
gifts are gone," the Prince replied, "yet take
This
for amends, dear sister, of whose grace
Our
happy city boasts;" therewith he loosed
The
emerald necklet from his throat, and clasped
Its
green beads round her dark and silk-soft waist;
And
their eyes mixed, and from the look sprang love.
The
King determined to send messengers to demand the maiden of her father in
marriage for his son; but it was the law of the country that, when any
one asked a maid of a noble house, he should make good his claim by martial
and athletic arts against all challengers. The father accordingly replied
that his child was sought by princes far and near, and if her lover could
bend the bow, or wield the sword, or back a horse better than they, it
would be the best thing for all; but he was afraid that such a cloistered
youth would have no chance in so grave a contest. But the Prince only laughed
at this, and declared that he was ready to meet all comers at their chosen
games. The day at length came, and Siddârtha won the prize at shooting
with the bow, and cleaving trees with the sword, when the turn came for
the trial of
horsemanship:
--
Then
brought they steeds,
High-mettled,
nobly bred, and three times scoured
Around
the maidan, but white Kantaka
Left
even the fleetest far behind -- so swift,
That
ere the foam fell from his mouth to earth
Twenty
spear-lengths he flew; but Nanda said,
"We
too might win with such as Kantaka;
Bring
an unbroken horse, and let men see
Who
best can back him." So the syces brought
A
stallion dark as night, led by three chains,
Fierce-eyed,
with nostrils wide and tossing mane,
Unshod,
unsaddled, for no rider yet
Had
crossed him. Three times each young Saky
Sprang
to his mighty back, but the hot steed
Furiously
reared, and flung them to the plain
In
dust and shame; only Ardjuna held
His
seat awhile, and, bidding loose the chains,
Lashed
the black flank, and shook the bit, and held
The
proud jaws fast with grasp of master-hand,
So
that in storms of wrath and rage and fear
The
savage stallion circled once the plain
Half-tamed;
but sudden turned with naked teeth,
Gripped
by the foot Ardjuna, tore him down,
And
would have slain him, but the grooms ran in
Fettering
the maddened beast. Then all men cried,
"Let
not Siddârtha meddle with this Bhut,
Whose
liver is a tempest, and his blood
Red
flame;" but the Prince said, "Let go the chains,
Give
me his forelock only," which he held
With
quiet grasp, and, speaking some low word,
Laid
his right palm across the stallion's eyes,
And
drew it gently down the angry face,
And
all along the neck and panting flanks,
Till
men astonished saw the night-black hors
Sink
his fierce crest and stand subdued and meek,
As
though he knew our Lord and worshipped him.
Nor
stirred he while Siddârtha mounted then
Went
soberly to touch of knee and rein
Before
all eyes, so that the people said,
"Strive
no more, for Siddârtha is the best."
The
maid was thus given to the Prince, the marriage-feast was kept, the gifts
bestowed on holy men, the alms and temple-offerings made, and the garments
of the bride and bridegroom tied. The old gray father spoke to the Prince
to be good to her whose life was now to be only in him. The sweet Yasôhara
was brought home, with songs and trumpets, to the Prince's arms, and "Love
was all in all": --
Yet
not to love
Alone
trusted the King; love's prison-house
Stately
and beautiful he bade them build,
So
that in all the earth no marvel was
Like
Vishramvan, the Prince's pleasure-place.
Midway
in those wide palace-grounds there rose
A
verdant hill whose base Rohini bathed,
Murmuring
adown from Himalay's broad feet,
To
bear its tribute into Gunga's waves.
Southward
a growth of tamarind-trees and sal,
Thick
set with pale sky-colored ganthi flowers,
Shut
out the world, save if the city's hum
Came
on the wind no harsher than when bees
Hum
out of sight in thickets. Northwards soared
The
stainless ramps of huge Himala's wall,
Ranged
in white ranks against the blue -- untrod,
Infinite,
wonderful -- whose uplands vast,
And
lifted universe of crest and crag,
Shoulder
and shelf, green slope and icy horn,
Riven
ravine, and splintered precipice
Led
climbing thought higher and higher, until
It
seemed to stand in heaven and speak with gods.
Beneath
the snows dark forests spread, sharplaced
With
leaping cataracts and veiled with clouds
Lower
grew rose-oaks and the great fir groves
Where
echoed pheasant's call and panther's cry
Clatter
of wild sheep on the stones, and scream
Of
circling eagles: under these the plain
Gleamed
like a praying-carpet at the foot
Of
those divinest altars. Fronting this
The
builders set the bright pavilion up,
Fair-planted
on the terraced hill, with towers
On
either flank and pillared cloisters round.
Its
beams were carved with stories of old time --
Radha
and Krishna and the sylvan girls --
Sita
and Hanuman and Draupadi;
And
on the middle porch God Ganesha,
With
disc and hook -- to bring wisdom and wealth --
Propitious
sate, wreathing his sidelong trunk.
By
winding ways of garden and of court
The
inner gate was reached, of marble wrought,
White
with pink veins; the lintel lazuli,
The
threshold alabaster, and the doors
Sandal-wood,
cut in pictured panelling;
Whereby
to lofty halls and shadowy bowers
Passed
the delighted foot, on stately stairs,
Through
latticed galleries, 'neath painted roofs
And
clustering columns, where cool fountains -- fringed
With
lotus and nelumbo -- danced, and fish
Gleamed
through their crystal, scarlet, gold, and blue.
Great-eyed
gazelles in sunny alcoves browsed
The
blown red roses; birds of rainbow wing
Fluttered
among the palms; doves, green and gray,
Built
their safe nests on gilded cornices;
Over
the shining pavements peacocks drew
The
splendors of their trains, sedately watched
By
milk-white herons and the small house-owls.
The
plum-necked parrots swung from fruit to fruit
The
yellow sunbirds whirred from bloom to bloom,
The
timid lizards on the lattice basked
Fearless,
the squirrels ran to feed from hand,
For
all was peace: the shy black snake, that gives
Fortune
to households, sunned his sleepy coils
Under
the moon-flowers, where the musk-deer played,
And
brown-eyed monkeys chattered to the crows.
And
all this house of love was peopled fair
With
sweet attendance, so that in each part
With
lovely sights were gentle faces found,
Soft
speech and willing service, each one glad
To
gladden, pleased at pleasure, proud to obey
Till
life glided beguiled, like a smooth stream
Banked
by perpetual flow'rs, Yasôdhara
Queen
of the enchanting Court.
The
interior of the palace is described as the scene of Oriental luxury and
delight, on which the author lavishes all the resources of his art to present
the strange contrast between the effeminate indulgences of Siddârtha's
youth and the subsequent austere, lonely years of preparation in which
he receives the holy anointing as a chosen prophet of humanity: --
But
innermost,
Beyond
the richness of those hundred halls,
A
secret chamber lurked, where skill had spent
All
lovely fantasies to lull the mind.
The
entrance of it was a cloistered square --
Roofed
by the sky, and in the midst a tank --
Of
milky marble built, and laid with slabs
Of
milk-white marble; bordered round the tank
And
on the steps, and all along the frieze
With
tender inlaid work of agate-stones.
Cool
as to tread in summertime on snows
It
was to loiter there; the sunbeams dropped
Their
gold, and, passing into porch and niche,
Softened
to shadows, silvery, pale, and dim,
As
if the very Day paused and grew Eve
In
love and silence at that bower's gate;
For
there beyond the gate the chamber was,
Beautiful,
sweet; a wonder of the world!
Soft
light from perfumed lamps through windows fell
Of
nakre and stained stars of lucent film
On
golden cloths outspread, and silken beds,
And
heavy splendor of the purdah's fringe,
Lifted
to take only the loveliest in.
Here,
whether it was night or day none knew.
For
always streamed that softened light, more bright
Than
sunrise, but as tender as the eve's;
And
always breathed sweet airs, more joy-giving
Than
morning's, but as cool as midnight's breath;
And
night and day lutes sighed, and night and day
Delicious
foods were spread, and dewy fruits,
Sherbets
new chilled with snows of Himalay,
And
sweetmeats made of subtle daintiness,
With
sweet tree-milk in its own ivory cup.
And
night and day served there a chosen band
Of
nautch girls cup-bearers, and cymballers,
Delicate,
dark-browed ministers of love,
Who
fanned the sleeping eyes of the happy Prince,
And
when he waked, led back his thoughts to bliss
With
music whispering through the blooms, and charm
Of
amorous songs and dreamy dances, linked
By
chime of ankle-bells and wave of arms
And
silver vina-strings; while essences
Of
musk and champak and the blue haze spread
From
burning spices soothed his soul again
To
drowse by sweet Yasôdhara; and thus
Siddârtha
lived forgetting.
But
no enchantment of earth's delights could stay the soaring spirit which
sought the crown of renunciation, the sacrifice of self for the deliverance
of the race. The fated hour of consummation now struck. Standing by the
couch of his sleeping wife, Siddârtha announces his resolution: --
"I
will depart," he spake; "the hour is come!
Thy
tender lips, dear sleeper, summon me
To
that which saves the earth but sunders us;
And
in the silence of yon sky I read
My
fated message flashing. Unto this
Came
I, and unto this all nights and days
Have
led me; for I will not have that crown
Which
may be mine: I lay aside those realms
Which
wait the gleaming of my naked sword:
My
chariot shall not roll with bloody wheels
From
victory to victory, till earth --
Wears
the red record of my name. I choose
To
tread its paths with patient, stainless feet,
Making
its dust my bed, its loneliest wastes
My
dwelling, and its meanest things my mates:
Clad
in no prouder garb than outcasts wear,
Fed
with no meats 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 woful 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.
For
which of all the great and lesser Gods
Have
power or pity? Who hath seen them -- who?
What
have they wrought to help their worshippers?
How
hath it steaded man to pray, and pay
Tithes
of the corn and oil, to chant the charms,
To
slay the shrieking sacrifice, to rear
The
stately fane, to feed the priests, and call
On
Vishnu, Shiva, Surya, who save
None
-- not the worthiest -- from the griefs that teach
Those
litanies of flattery and fear
Ascending
day by day, like wasted smoke?
.
. . . . .
If
one, then, being great and fortunate,
Rich,
dowered with health and ease, from birth designed
To
rule -- if he would rule -- a King of kings;
If
one, not tired with life's long day but glad
I'
the freshness of its morning, one not cloyed
With
love's delicious feasts, but hungry still
If
one not worn and wrinkled, sadly sage,
But
joyous in the glory and the grace
That
mix with evils here, and free to choose
Earth's
loveliest at his will: one even as I,
Who
ache not, lack not, grieve not, save with griefs
Which
are not mine, except as I am man; --
If
such a one, having so much to give,
Gave
all, laying it down for love of men,
And
thenceforth spent himself to search for truth,
Wringing
the secret of deliverance forth,
Whether
it lurk in hells or hide in heavens,
Or
hover, unrevealed, nigh unto all:
Surely
at last, far off, sometime, somewhere,
The
veil would lift for his deep-searching eyes,
The
road would open for his painful feet,
That
should be won for which he lost the world,
And
Death might find him conqueror of death.
This
will I do, who have a realm to lose,
Because
I love my realm, because my heart
Beats
with each throb of all the hearts that ache,
Known
and unknown, these that are mine and those
Which
shall be mine, a thousand million more
Saved
by this sacifice I offer now.
Oh,
summoning stars! I come! Oh, mournful earth!
For
thee and thine I lay aside my youth,
My
throne, my joys, my golden days, my nights,
My
happy palace -- and thine arms, sweet Queen!
Harder
to put aside than all the rest!
Yet
thee, too, I shall save, saving this earth;
And
that which stirs within thy tender womb,
My
child, the hidden blossom of our loves,
Whom
if I wait to bless my mind will fail.
Wife!
child! father! and people! ye must share
A
little while the anguish of this hour
That
light may break and all flesh learn the Law.
Now
am I fixed, and now I will depart,
Never
to come again till what I seek
Be
found -- if fervent search and strife avail."
We
need cull no further specimens from this rich Oriental flower-garden to
show that Mr. Arnold has presented the world with a poem equally striking
for the novelty of its conception, its vigor of execution, and the exquisite
beauty of its descriptive passages. The originality of its plan is fully
sustained by its power of invention, splendor of coloring, and force of
illustration. Mr. Arnold's imaginative gifts are combined with a singularly
acute historical sense, and a rare perception of the music of rhythmical
harmonies and the curious significance of a felicitous phrase. Nor is his
poem to be regarded merely in the light of imagination or history. It forms
a grave ethical treatise, shadowing forth in the legendary life of Siddârtha
some of the deepest mysteries and loftiest experiences of the human soul.
The
great doctrine of renunciation, so earnestly insisted on by Goethe and
Carlyle, is in fact the key-note of the poem, and the evolution of character
from an exclusive devotion to self to a tender charity for our kind, which
is so lucidly set forth in the philosophy of Herbert Spencer, is illustrated
with all the charms of a fascinating narrative and the enchantments of
melodious verse. As an exposition of the religious system of Buddha we
reckon this poem as no more successful than the numerous similar attempts
in prose. We have no sufficient data for the solution of the problem. But
as a magnificent work of imagination, and a sublime appeal in the interests
of the loftiest human virtue, we tender it the sincerest welcome, and grasp
the author by the hand as a genuine prophet of the soul.
THE
END.
******
FOOTNOTES:
•
Devas = celestial spirits
•
Sakyas = name of a royal race in the northern frontiers of Magadha, hence
Buddha’s title "Sakya Muni" or the "Sakya sage"
•
Siddartha = Buddha’s proper name, meaning "He who has reached the goal"
•
Swastika = a Buddhist emblem, still in use today
•
Lakh = ten thousand
•
Dhyana = meditation
•
Rishis = seers
•
Maharaja = great king
•
Barasingh = a stag
•
Tilka-spot = the beauty-spot between the eyebrows of Hindu women
•
Maidan = Anglo-Indian word, "parade ground".
•
Sari = garment of Hindu women, wound round the body with one end thrown
over the shoulder.
•
Syces = groom. (Anglo-Indian word)
•
Jheel = a pool or lagoon in India after a flood.
•
Gadi = seat cushion.
•
Mantra = hymn or metrical passage (prayer or formula)
•
Purdah = curtain with which Indian women are screened from strangers.
•
Nautch girl = Indian dancing girl.
•
Vina-string = Hindu musical instrument of the guitar kind.
•
Yojana = nine English miles.
•
Maya = Buddha’s mother’s name.
•
Nullah = ravine, river-bed
•
Koss = a distance of over two English miles
•
Crore = million (Hindu word).
•
Channa = Buddha’s driver.
•
Guru = Hindu religious teacher.
•
Kshastriya = the second caste of warriors.
•
Sudra = the lowest, fourth caste, the servant class.
•
Lota = brass pot.
•
Rama = Hindu god, seventh incarnation of Vishnu.
•
Chaitra-Shud = march-april.
•
Chuddar = a kind of fine plain-coloured shawl.
•
Vishnu, Shiva, Surya =Vishnu, the second of the Hindu Trinity, who takes
care of the universe, and who incarnates as avataras to help mankind. Shiva,
the third of the Trinity, the Destroyer; sometimes regarded as One God.(Brahma,
as the creator Prajapati, lord of all creatures, is the other member.)
•
Surya is the Sun-God.
•
Yaksha = goblin, spirit.
•
Brahmachari = Bramana student
•
Bhikshu = monk,devotee.
•
Rajaputra = son of a king, prince; "putra" means son.
•
Sakra = another name for Indra.
•
Devaraj = ruler of the gods.
•
Yajna = sacrifice.
•
Devi = feminine celestial spirit.
•
Shaster = also shastra, a Hindu sacred book, particularly a book of laws.
•
Sruti = the Vedas, orally handed down and considered as divine revelation.
•
Smriti = name of a religious scripture.
•
Jnana-Kand = the knowledge portion of the Vedas.
•
Karma-Kand = the ritualistic portion of the Vedas.
•
Bodhi-Tree = the Wisdom-Tree, famous in Buddhist scriptures; bodhi, wisdom.
•
Samma-sambuddh = highest knowledge, perfect wisdom; the final liberation
from the errors of mortal perceptions
•
Abhidjna = supernatural powers.
•
Kalpa and mahakalpa = world epoch and super epoch.
•
Dukkha-Satya = the truth regarding sorrows.
•
Karma = action of life, with its law of consequences in the present and
future life.
•
Nidana = cause. The twelve Nidana form the chain of causation which
carries on the misery of the world.
•
Howdah = a seat with canopy and railing for the rider on elephant’s back.
•
Iddhi = dominion of spirit over matter, also certain major powers (Sanscrit:
riddhi)
•
Upeksha = the discipline of ignoring non-essentials.
•
Amrit = nectar, or the immortal drink of the Vedic gods.
•
Jhana = pali for Sancrit Dhyyana, meditation, beatific vision.
•
Three Chief Refuges = the Buddha, the Doctrine and the Order (or Church
).
