A SKETCH OF SPIRITUAL DEVELOPMENT
We left Gotama standing on the pinnacle of worldly happiness, the darling and hope of a great nation, wedded to a princess of incomparable beauty and loveliness of character and the happy father of a boy whose artless prattle was the joy and music of his life. As he traversed the marble terraces of his palace in the full enjoyment of all that art and wealth could invent and procure, or wandered through its gilded corridors, forgotten were the lessons he had learned amidst the frivolities and unrealities of his father's court. The past with its gleams and flashes and dim foreshadowings of something higher and more enduring than earthly and material things; with its fleeting perceptions and intuitions of a domain of life and light, the heart's true home, the spirit's glorious habitat, all these in the sunshine and effulgence of pleasing and sensuous delights in which he lived and moved, all were forgotten, their memory faded away and Gotama like many a pilgrim, with senses charmed and lulled by the melody of sweet sounds and the sight of some enchanting bower by the wayside, in a moment of weakness and forgetfulness strayed from the upward and onward path and lying down, dreamed the happy hours away. But dreams have their ending; the awakening comes at last and we have to arise and face the stern actualities of today and realize that we must be up and doing.
Years rolled by with Gotama, and his awakening dawned at last. The same old thoughts and restless feelings, the same desires and longings and aspirations began once more to operate within him. He felt again that inward yearning and craving after something indefinable which eluded his every attempt to grasp and comprehend it and without the acquisition of which, life must be a blank, and existence but a protracted misery. There was now this great difference in favor of Gotama. Formerly he had no one to whom he could unfold and make known without fear of ridicule his inward thoughts and feelings, no one who could give the key and explain the strange mental state in which he then was, but now there was Gopa to whom he could have recourse in his dark and joyless moments and make known the inward mental unrest and disquietude of soul which were again agitating and operating within him; and she the pure-minded spiritual Gopa proved herself to be a true friend and counsellor in what was to be the most important epoch, the great turning point in his life. She divined the nature and meaning of the great crisis that was at hand; that the throes of a new birth into the higher life were coming on and knew also what it all meant for her, that the time was drawing nigh, that the hour was about to strike when that great soul must break away from all the ties that had bound him, and forsaking kindred and friends, must go forth to the accomplishment of his high destiny. Gopa had doubtless learned from some aged member of the court, the wondrous incidents of his birth and the remarkable predictions of his future greatness as a Buddha destined to bring light to mankind and deliver the world from the darkness and thraldom of ignorance. Pondering over these things within herself, and ready to sacrifice everything which makes life dear, in order that Gotama might achieve the great mission awaiting him, it came to pass, that when absorbed in meditation on the great problems of life and death, wearied with vain and fruitless attempts to resolve them and indulging in pessimist ideas, Gotama gave expression to his feelings of despondency, it was Gopa who raised him out of the Slough of Despond into which he was again sinking and portrayed to him the future in bright and vivid colors, and encouraged him to arouse and prepare himself for his life's work.
Noble and magnanimous Gopa! It was indeed a dire and terrible sacrifice for her to make; to part and become separated, how long, she knew not, from one in whom was centred the hopes of her earthly existence, to forego the joys and endearments of domestic life, the converse and presence of the one being around whom the tendrils of her affectionate nature clung, as clings the ivy round the oak, for her the admired, the loved of all, to become bereaved of husband, to drag out existence and henceforth to roam the world, its tired, weary denizen. This the fearful prospect before her; but she heeded not and in making this great renunciation, became enrolled into that great sisterhood of noble and true-hearted women whose daily sacrifices of self remain so often unnoticed and unknown. And now the same old thoughts and feelings had again assailed him. The same vague restless craving after an ideal which eluded all his efforts to give it form and expression, and that terrible inward vacuity which like an incubus crushed him down, that feeling of infinite compassion for the misery and suffering afflicting humanity, combined with a deep yearning to become the means of alleviating the lot of mankind and deliver it from the heavy burden under which it groaned and grieved, all these caused the life of Gotama to become a very unhappy one. "Nothing is stable on earth," he used to say, "nothing" is real. Life is like the spark produced by the friction of wood. It is lighted and extinguished and we know not whence it came or whither it goes. There must be some supreme Intelligence where we can find rest. If I could attain it, I could bring light to mankind. If I were free myself I could deliver the world."
"If I were free myself!" In these few words lies enfolded the secret of the unhappiness Gotama was enduring, the bondage of his higher self to his lower nature with its strong passions and propensities towards the indulgence of those pleasures of sense, whose tendency is to obscure and depress the divine within us, until at last, men and women become metamorphosed, changed into mere animated bundles of selfishness, the origin of all the ills and evils which afflict humanity. To burst the bonds, to break the yoke of this galling servitude of self was now the great problem that absorbed the attention of Gotama and engrossed all his powers of thought. And this has been the great problem of all ages. Many have been the expedients tried and suggestions put forth and systems of philosophy elaborated, specious in their pretensions but which have proved ignes fatui, deceitful illusions luring benighted mortals to irremediable failure and disaster and this must ever be so, as long as we are regardful of self and its gratification, as long as we are attracted and become attached to the phenomenal, the unreal and untrue, and live content their willing slaves. It is only when self is conquered and passion subjugated, the feelings curbed and restrained and thought disciplined, when worldly ambition and inordinate desires for the things of time and sense are cast away; when the true. the noble and manly become embodied in our words and actions, then and not till then do we become partakers of the Divine nature, emancipated and freed from those gross and sensual impediments which bind us to earth and deter us from entering into the enjoyments of that ideal Kingdom, the domain of light and life, the great common heritage awaiting us all at the termination of our weary pilgrimage through time.
For the solution of this great problem, the circumstances in which Gotama was placed, were unfavorable. Prince and heir of a mighty monarch, the darling and hope of a whole nation, with the accumulated weight of national, marital and parental duties devolving upon him, how could he think of shirking their discharge, how divest himself of the cares of state, how tear himself from kindred and friends and above all forego a love and affection like that of Gopa, which lighted up and illumined his life with the glow and sunshine of her own happy nature? These were the great sacrifices, the self-denials which he erroneously thought must be made ere he could be free. Was it worth the effort, — this inward victory which brought with it no popular applause and excited no acclamations of admiring multitudes? The question was moreover complicated with considerations which placed him in a great dilemma. It was not a question of duty and interest, for in his case, they were welded together and formed an undivided whole. It was one merely of happiness. Happiness was associated with the discharge of his princely duties as a monarch, a husband and parent, and happiness was the goal of victory over his lower nature; but where came in the duty to sacrifice and ignore the former in order to obtain the latter, which might after all prove illusionary in its character. Gotama long pondered over the matter, long the question remained undecided, oscillating as in a balance, until at length occurred an event which gave the necessary momentum in deciding and determining his future destiny and which is graphically described by a learned French savant, Barthelemy St. Hilaire in his biography of Gotama.
One day when Gotama with a large retinue was driving through the eastern gate of the city on the way to one of his parks, he met on the road an old man broken and decrepit in body. The veins and muscles over the whole of his body were quite visible, his teeth chattered. He was covered with wrinkles, bald and hardly able to utter hollow and unmelodious sounds. He was bent on his stick and all his limbs and joints trembled. "Who is that man?" said the prince to his coachman. "He is small and weak, his muscles stick to his skin, his flesh and blood are dried up. His beard is white, his teeth chatter, his body wasted away and leaning on his staff, he is hardly able to walk and stumbles at every step. Is there anything peculiar to his family or is this the common lot of all created beings?" "Sir," replied the coachman, "that man is sinking under old age, his senses have become blunted, suffering has destroyed his strength and he is despised by his relatives. He is without support and homeless and people have abandoned him like a dead tree in a forest. But this is not peculiar to his family. In every creature, youth is followed and defeated by old age. Your father, your mother, all your relations, all your friends will come to the same state. It is the appointed end of all creatures." "Alas!" replied Gotama, "are creatures so ignorant, so weak and foolish as to be proud of the youth by which they are intoxicated, not seeing the old age which awaits them? As for me, I go away. Coachman, turn the chariot quickly. What have I, the future prey of old age, what have I to do with pleasure?" and Gotama returned to the city without going to his park.
Another time the prince drove through the southern gate to his pleasure garden when he perceived on the road a man suffering from illness, parched with fever, his body wasted, covered with mud, without a friend, homeless, hardly able to breathe and frightened at the sight of himself and the approach of death. Having questioned his coachman and received from him the answer he expected, the prince said: "Alas! health is but the sport of a dream and the fear of suffering must take this frightful form. Where is the wise man who after having seen what he is, can any longer think of joy and pleasure?" Then he turned his chariot and went back to the city.
A third time he drove to his pleasure gardens through the western gate, when he saw a dead body on the road lying on a bier and covered with a cloth. The friends stood about crying, sobbing and tearing their hair, covering their heads with dust, striking their breasts and uttering wild cries. On witnessing this painful scene the prince exclaimed, "Oh! woe to youth, which must be destroyed by old age! Woe to health which must be destroyed by so many diseases! Woe to this life where a man remains so short a time! If there were no old age, no diseases, no death, if these could be made captive forever." Then betraying; for the first time his intentions, the prince said: "Let us turn back. I must think how to accomplish deliverance."
The time for decision was now approaching. The choice was soon to be made and another incident put an end to his hesitation. He drove through the northern gate on the way to his pleasure gardens when he saw a mendicant who appeared outwardly calm and subdued, looking downward, wearing with an air of dignity his religious vestment and carrying an alms bowl. "Who is this man?" asked Gotama. "Sir," replied the coachman, "this man is one of those who are called Bikshus or mendicants. He has renounced all pleasures, all desires, and leads a life of austerity. He tries to conquer himself. He has become a devotee. Without passion, without envy, he walks about asking for alms." "This is good and well said," replied the prince. "The life of a devotee has always been praised by the wise. It will be my refuge and the refuge of other creatures. It will lead us to a real life, to happiness and immortality." With these words the prince turned his chariot and drove back to the city. The die was cast, the decision made, and life, eternal life was his choice.
But in resolving henceforth to become a devotee and renouncing worldly grandeur, an almost insuperable barrier was raised against his carrying it out by the action of his aged parent, who, remembering the wondrous prophecies uttered at the time of his birth was now alarmed at the prospect of his son's becoming a devotee. He doubled the prince's guards and issued strict injunctions they should never lose sight of him nor cease watching his every act. Wherever he went, whatever he did, Gotama felt conscious of the presence of spies who would act up to their instructions and thwart his endeavors to carry out his design. Gotama, however, bided his time, and at last seizing a favorable opportunity when his guards, wearied out by continual watching had fallen asleep, he aroused Tshanda, his faithful groom, and ordered him to saddle his horse without delay. Ere quitting his room, he turned to take a last fond look at the sleeping forms of Gopa and his darling boy. A moment and the great deeps of his affectionate nature welled up, a great wave of mental anguish caused his stalwart form to reel and bend, as bends the stately oak before the tempest, a moment and it was gone, then mounting his horse, Gotama rushed forth followed by the groom, away! away! from the dwellings of careworn men; away from the madding crowd; from the din and noise of worldly strifes and cares, from the syren charms and illusions of the world, to the calm tranquility and enduring peace of a hermit's life.
(To be continued.)