[ p. 237 ]
THE following translation is made from a text based on three MSS. from the same sources as those referred to at the commencement of the Tevigga Sutta, and referred to in my notes by the same letters.
This Sutta follows in the Dîgha Nikâya immediately after the Book of the Great Decease, and is based on the same legend as the Mahâ-Sudassana Gâtaka, No. 95 in Mr. Fausböll’s edition. As the latter differs in several important particulars from our Sutta, it is probably not taken directly from it, but is merely derived from the same source. To facilitate comparison between the two I add here a translation of the Gâtaka, which has not been reached as yet in my ’Buddhist Birth Stories,’ and which is very short.
The part enclosed in brackets is the comment, which was probably written in Ceylon in the fifth century of our era, and I have included that part of the comment which is explanatory of the words in the verse, as it is of more than usual interest. There is every reason to believe, for the reasons given in the Introduction to the ‘Buddhist Birth Stories,’ that the stories themselves belong to a very early period in the history of Buddhism; and we may be sure that if this particular story had been abstracted by the author of the commentary from our Sutta, he would not have ventured to introduce such serious changes into what he regarded as sacred writ.
[ p. 238 ]
[‘How transient are all component things.’ This the Master told when lying on his death-couch, concerning that word of Ânanda the Thera, when he said, ‘Do not, O Blessed One, die in this little town,’ and so on.
When the Tathâgata was at the Getavana[1] he thought ‘the Thera Sâriputta, who was born at Nâlagâma, has died, on the day of the full moon in the month of Kattika, in that very village[2]; and Mahâ Moggallâna in the latter, the dark half of that same month. As my two chief disciples are thus dead; I too will pass away at Kusinârâ.’ Thereupon he proceeded straight on to that place, and lay down on the Uttara-sîsaka couch, between the twin Sâla trees, never to rise again.
Then the venerable Ânanda besought him, saying, ‘Let [ p. 239 ] not the Blessed One die in this little township[3], in this little town in the jungle, in this branch township. Let the Blessed One die in one of the other great cities, such as Râgagaha, and the rest!’
But the Master answered, ‘Say not, Ânanda, that this is a little township, a little town in the jungle, a branch township. I was dwelling formerly in this town at the time when I was Sudassana, the king of kings; and then it was a great city, surrounded by a jewelled rampart, twelve leagues in length!’
And at the request of the Thera, he, telling the tale, uttered the Mahâ-Sudassana Sutta.]
Now on that occasion when Queen Subhaddâ saw Mahâ Sudassana, when he had come down out of the Palace of Righteousness, and was lying down, not far off, on the appropriate couch, spread out in the grove of the seven kinds of gems, and when she said: ‘Thine, O king, are these four and eighty thousand cities, of which the chief is the royal city of Kusavâtî. Quicken thy desire after these!’
Then replied Mahâ Sudassana, 'Speak not thus, O queen! but exhort me rather, saying, “Cast away desire for these, long not after them[4]!”
And when she asked, ‘Why so, O king?’ ‘To-day my time is come, and I shall die!’ was his reply[5].
Then the weeping queen, wiping her eyes, brought herself with difficulty and distress to address him accordingly. And having spoken, she wept, and lamented; and the other four and eighty thousand women wept too, and lamented; and of the attendant courtiers not one could restrain himself, but all also wept.
But the Bodisat stopped them all, saying, ‘Enough my friends! Be still!’ And he exhorted the queen, saying, 'Neither do thou, O queen, weep: neither do thou lament. For even unto a grain of sesamum fruit there is no such [ p. 240 ] thing as a compound which is permanent! All are transient, all have the inherent quality of dissolution!’
And when he had so said, he further uttered this stanza:
‘How transient are all component things!
Growth is their nature and decay:
They are produced, they are dissolved again:
And then is best,—when they have sunk to rest[6]!’
[In these verses the words ‘How transient are all component things!’ mean 'Dear lady, Subhaddâ, wheresoever and by whatsoever causes made or come together, compounds[7],—that is, all those things which possess the essential constituents (whether material or mental) of existing things[8],—all these compounds are impermanence itself. For of these form[9] is impermanent, reason[10] is impermanent, the (mental) eye[11] is impermanent, and qualities[12] are impermanent. And whatever treasure there be, whether conscious or unconscious, that is transitory. Understand therefore “How transient are all component things!”
‘And why? “Growth is their nature and decay.” These, all, have the inherent quality of coming into (individual) existence, and have also the inherent quality of growing old; or (in other words) their very nature is to come into existence and to be broken up. Therefore should it be understood that they are impermanent.
‘And since they are impermanent, when “they are produced, they are dissolved again.” Having come into existence, having reached a state[13], they are surely dissolved. For all these things come into existence, taking an individual form; and are dissolved, being broken up. To them as soon as there is birth, there is what is called a state; as soon as there is a state, there is what is called [ p. 241 ] disintegration[14]. For to the unborn there is no such thing as state, and there is no such thing as a state which is without disintegration. Thus are all compounds, having attained to the three characteristic marks (of impermanency, pain, and want of any abiding principle[15]), subject, in this way and in that way, to dissolution. All these component things therefore, without exception, are impermanent, momentary[16], despicable, unstable, disintegrating, trembling, quaking, unlasting, sure to depart[17], only for a time[18], and without substance;—as temporary[18:1] as a phantom, as the mirage, or as foam!
‘How then in these, dear lady Subhaddâ, is there any sign of ease? Understand rather that “then is best, when they have sunk to rest;” but their sinking to rest, their cessation, comes from the cessation of the whole round (of life), and is the same as Nirvâna. That and this are one[19]. And hence there is no such thing as ease.’]
And when Mahâ Sudassana had thus brought his discourse to a point with the ambrosial great Nirvâna, he made exhortation also to the rest of the great multitude, saying, ‘Give gifts! Observe the precepts! Keep the sacred days[20]!’ and became an inheritor of the world of the gods.
[When the Master had concluded this lesson in the truth, he summed up the Gâtaka, saying, ‘She who was then Subhaddâ the queen was the mother of Râhula, the great adviser was Râhula, the rest of the retinue the Buddha’s retinue, and Mahâ Sudassana I myself.']
[ p. 242 ]
The word translated ‘component things’ or ‘compounds’ in this Gâtaka is sankhârâ, literally confections, from kar, ‘to do,’ and sam, ‘together.’ It is a word very frequently used in Buddhist writings, and a word consequently of many different connotations; and there is, of course, no exactly corresponding word in English. ‘Production’ would often be very nearly correct, although it fails entirely to give the force of the preposition sam; but a greater objection to that word is the fact that it is generally used, not of things that have come into being of themselves, but of things that have been produced by some one else. It suggests, if it does not imply, a producer; which is contrary to the whole spirit of the Buddhist passages in which the word sankhârâ occurs. In this important respect the word ‘compound’ is a much more accurate translation, though it lays somewhat too much stress on the sam.
The term Confections (to coin a rendering) is sometimes used, as in the first line of these verses (as used in this connection), to denote all things which have been brought together, made up, by pre-existing causes; and in this sense it includes, as the commentator here points out, all those material or mental qualities which unite to form an individual, a separate thing or being, whether conscious or unconscious.
It is more usually used, with special reference to their origin from pre-existing causes, and with allusion to the wider class denoted by the same word, of the mental confections only, of all sentient beings generally, or of man alone. In this sense it forms by itself one of the five classes or aggregates (khandhâ) into which the material and mental qualities of each separate individual are divided in Buddhist writings—the class of dispositions, capabilities, and all that goes together to make what we call character. This class has naturally enough been again divided and subdivided; and a full list of the Confections in this sense, as now acknowledged by orthodox Buddhists, will be found in my manual ‘Buddhism.’ At the time when the Pâli Pitakas reached their present form, no such elaborate list of Confections in detail seems to have been made; but the [ p. 243 ] general sense of the word was, as is quite clear from the passages in which it occurs, the idea which these details together convey. It is this second and more usual meaning of the term which is more especially emphasised in the concluding verse of the above stanza.
I have ventured to dwell so far on the word Confections, because the commentator here says that the cessation of these Confections is the same thing as Nirvâna; and the question of Nirvâna engrosses so large a share of the attention of those who are interested in Buddhism.
Whether it is entitled to do so is open to serious question. The Buddhist salvation was held to consist in a change of heart, a modification of personal character, to be attained to in this world, and forming the subject of Gotama’s first discourse, ‘The Foundation of the Kingdom of Righteousness[21].’ When looked at from different points of view this state of mind was denoted, in the very numerous passages in which it is mentioned or referred to, under a great variety of different names or epithets, suggestive of the different points of view from which it could be regarded. The term Nibbâna, or Nirvâna, is only one of those epithets; and it is a most significant fact, to which I would invite especial attention, that it is an epithet comparatively very seldom employed in the Pâli Pitakas themselves. It is to the state of mind itself, the salvation which every Arahat has reached while yet alive, in a word, to Arahatship, that importance ought to be attached, rather than to that particular connotation of it suggested by the word Nirvâna.
One of the many ideas involved in Arahatship was the absolute dissolution of individuality. Gotama, whether rightly or wrongly is here of no importance, held that freedom from pain, absolute ease, happiness, was incompatible with existence as a distinct individual (whether animal, god, or man). The cessation of the Confections, so far from being a thing to be dreaded, was the inevitable result of the emancipation of heart and mind in Arahatship.
[ p. 244 ] But it was not a thing to be desired, and could not, in fact, be brought about apart from all the other things involved in Arahatship. The formation of these Confections ceases in Nirvâna, and in Nirvâna alone; and when the poet declares that their cessation is blessed, he is saying the same thing as if he had said ‘Nirvâna is blessed[22].’
Turning now to the Sutta itself, we find that the portion of the legend omitted in the Gâtaka throws an unexpected light upon the tale; for it commences with a long description of the riches and glory of Mahâ Sudassana, and reveals in its details the instructive fact that the legend is nothing more nor less than a spiritualist’s sun-myth.
It cannot be disputed that the sun-myth theory has become greatly discredited, and with reason, by having been used too carelessly and freely as an explanation of religious legends of different times and countries which have really no historical connection with the earlier awe and reverence inspired by the sun. The very mention of the word sun-myth is apt to call forth a smile of incredulity, and the indubitable truth which is the basis of the theory has not sufficed to protect it from the shafts of ridicule. The ‘Book of the Great King of Glory’ seems to afford a useful example both of the extent to which the theory may be accepted, and of the limitations under which it should always be applied.
It must at once be admitted that whether the whole story is based on a sun-story, or whether certain parts or details of it are derived from things first spoken about the sun, or not, it is still essentially Buddhistic. A large proportion of its contents has nothing at all to do with the worship of the sun; and even that which has, had not, in [ p. 245 ] the mind of the author, when the book was put together. Whether indebted to a sun-myth or not, it is therefore perfectly true and valid evidence of the religious belief of the people among whom it was current; and no more shows that the Buddhists were unconscious sun worshippers than the story of Samson, under any theory of its possible origin, would prove the same of the Jews.
What we really have is a kind of wonderful fairy tale, a gorgeous poem, in which an attempt is made to describe in set terms the greatest possible glory and majesty of the greatest possible king, in order to show that all is vanity, save only righteousness-just such a poem as a Jewish prophet might have written of Solomon in all his glory. It would have been most strange, perhaps impossible, for the author to refrain from using the language of the only poets he knew, who had used their boldly figurative language in an attempt to describe the appearance of the sun.
To trace back all the rhetorical phrases of our Sutta to their earliest appearance in the Vedic hymns would be an interesting task of historical philology, though it would throw more light upon Buddhist forms of speech than upon Buddhist forms of belief. In M. Senart’s valuable work, ’La Legende du Bouddha,’ he has already done this with regard to the seven treasures (mentioned in the early part of the Sutta) on the basis of the corresponding passage in the later Buddhist Sanskrit poem called the Lalita Vistara. The descriptions of the royal city and of its wondrous Palace of Righteousness have been probably originated by the author, though on the same lines; and it reminds one irresistibly, in many of its expressions, of the similar, but simpler and more beautiful poem in which a Jewish author, some three centuries afterwards, described the heavenly Jerusalem.
When the Northern Buddhists, long afterwards, had smothered the simple teaching of the founder of their religion under the subtleties of theological and metaphysical speculation, and had forgotten all about the Noble Path, their goal was no longer a change of heart in the Arahatship to be reached on earth, but a life of happiness, under a change of outward condition, in a heaven of bliss [ p. 246 ] beyond the skies. One of the most popular books among the Buddhists of China and Japan is a description of this heavenly paradise of theirs, called the Sukhâvatî-vyûha, the ‘Book of the Happy Country,’ the Sanskrit text of which has been just published by Professor Max Müller in the volume of the journal of the Royal Asiatic Society for the present year. It is instructive to find that several of the expressions used are word for word the same as the corresponding phrases in the ‘Book of the Great King of Glory.’
The last clause is literally, ‘Blessed is their cessation,’ where the word for cessation, upasamo, is derived from the word sam, ‘to be calm, to be quiet,’ and means cessation by sinking into rest. Compare below.
It is not easy with our present materials to reconcile the apparently conflicting statements with regard to the Buddha’s last journey. According to the Mâlâlankâra-vatthu this refers here to a residence at the Getavana, which took place between the end of § 30 in Chap. II, in the Book of the Great Decease, and the beginning of § 31. It will be noticed that § 31 speaks of ’the monastery,’ which is apparently an undesigned confirmation of this tradition. (Such undesigned circumstances, however really undesigned, are very far, of course, from proving the actual truth of the tradition. They would only show that it was older than the time when the works in which they occur were put into their present shape.)
Mr. Fausböll, by his punctuation, includes these words in the following thought ascribed to the Blessed One, but I think they only describe the time at which the thought is supposed to have arisen. ↩︎
Or perhaps ‘at Varaka.’ I do not understand the word varaka, which has puzzled Mr. Fausböll. The modern name of the village, afterwards the site of the famous Buddhist university of Nâlanda, is Baragaon. The full-moon day in Kattika is the 1st of December. An account of the death of Sâriputta will be found in the Mâlâlankâra-vatthu (Bigandet, ‘Legend,’ &c., 3rd ed., II, 1-25), and of the murder of Moggallâna by the Niganthas in the Dhammapada commentary (Fausböll, p. 298 seq.), of which Spence Hardy’s account (’Manual of Buddhism,‘ p. 338) is nearly a translation; and Bigandet’s account (loc. cit. pp. 25-27) is an abridgment. ↩︎
Khuddaka-nagarake. See the note on Mahâparinibbâna Sutta, ver. 60. Both these speeches are different from those given on the same occasion in the Sutta below. ↩︎
This question and answer are not in the Sutta. ↩︎
Not found ↩︎
All this is omitted in the Sutta. It is true the verse occurs there, but it is placed in the Sutta in the mouth of the Teacher, after the account of Mahâ Sudassana’s death. ↩︎
Sankhârâ. ↩︎
Khandâyatanâdayo. ↩︎
Rûpam. ↩︎
Viññânam. ↩︎
Kakkhum. ↩︎
Dhammâ. ↩︎
Thiti. ↩︎
Bhango. ↩︎
Anekkam, dukkham, anattam. See Gâtaka I, 275; and, on the last, Mahâparinibbâna Sutta I, to, and Mahâ Vagga I, vi, 38-47. ↩︎
Khanikâ. See Oldenberg’s note on Dîpavamsa I, 53. ↩︎
Pâyâtâ, literally ‘departed.’ The forms payâti and payâto, given by Childers, should be corrected into pâyâti and pâyâto. See Gâtaka I, 146. ↩︎
Tâvakâlikâ, See Gâtaka I, 121, where the word is used of a cart let out on hire for a time only. ↩︎ ↩︎
'Tad ev ekam ekam, which is not altogether without ambiguity. ↩︎
This paragraph, too, is omitted in the Sutta. ↩︎
The Dhamma-kakka-ppavattana Sutta, translated below. ↩︎
In this respect it should be noticed that the very word here used for cessation, upasamo, is used as one among a string of epithets of Arahatship at Dhamma-kakka-ppavattana Sutta, § 3, = Gâtaka I, 97, and again in Dhammapada, verses 368, 381. In this last passage the whole of the phrase in the last verse in our stanza recurs in the accusative case as an equivalent to Arahatship, and the comma inserted by Mr. Fausböll between sankhârûpasamam and sukham is, in both verses, unnecessary. ↩︎