August 20, 2022

28.THE LIFE OF GAUTAMA BUDDHA | A SHORT HISTORY OF THE WORLD | H. G. WELLS

A SHORT HISTORY OF THE WORLD
BY
H. G. WELLS
28.THE LIFE OF GAUTAMA BUDDHA


But now we must go back three centuries in our story to tell of a great teacher who came near to revolutionizing the religious thought and feeling of all Asia. This was Gautama Buddha, who taught his disciples at Benares in India about the same time that Isaiah was prophesying among the Jews in Babylon and Heraclitus was carrying on his speculative enquiries into the nature of things at Ephesus. All these men were in the world at the same time, in the sixth century B.C. - unaware of one another. This sixth century B.C. was indeed one of the most remarkable in all history. Everywhere—for as we shall tell it was also the case in China—men’s minds were displaying a new boldness. Everywhere they were waking up out of the traditions of kingships and priests and blood sacrifices and asking the most penetrating questions. It is as if the race had reached a stage of adolescence—after a childhood of twenty thousand years.

The early history of India is still very obscure. Somewhen perhaps

about 2000 B.C., an Aryan- speaking people came down from the

north-west into India either in one invasion or in a series of

invasions; and was able to spread its language and traditions over most

of north India. Its peculiar variety of Aryan speech was the Sanskrit.

They found a brunette people with a more elaborate civilization and

less vigour of will, in possession of the country of the Indus and

Ganges. But they do not seem to have mingled with their predecessors

as freely as did the Greeks and Persians. They remained aloof. When

the past of India becomes dimly visible to the historian, Indian

society is already stratified into several layers, with a variable

number of sub-divisions, which do not eat together nor intermarry nor

associate freely. And throughout history this stratification into

castes continues. This makes the Indian population something different

from the simple, freely inter-breeding European or Mongolian

communities. It is really a community of communities.

Siddhattha Gautama was the son of an aristocratic family which ruled a

small district on the Himalayan slopes. He was married at nineteen to

a beautiful cousin. He hunted and played and went about in his sunny

world of gardens and groves and irrigated rice-fields. And it was

amidst this life that a great discontent fell upon him. It was the

unhappiness of a fine brain that seeks employment. He felt that the

existence he was leading was not the reality of life, but a holiday—a

holiday that had gone on too long.

The sense of disease and mortality, the insecurity and the

un-satisfactoriness of all happiness, descended upon the mind of

Gautama. While he was in this mood he met one of those wandering

ascetics who already existed in great numbers in India. These men

lived under severe rules, spending much time in meditation and in

religious discussion. They were supposed to be seeking some deeper

reality in life, and a passionate desire to do likewise took possession

of Gautama.

He was meditating upon this project, says the story, when the news was

brought to him that his wife had been delivered of his first-born son.

“This is another tie to break,” said Gautama.

He returned to the village amidst the rejoicings of his fellow

clansmen. There was a great feast and a Nautch dance to celebrate the

birth of this new tie, and in the night Gautama awoke in a great agony

of spirit, “like a man who is told that his house is on fire.” He

resolved to leave his happy aimless life forthwith. He went softly to

the threshold of his wife’s chamber, and saw her by the light of a

little oil lamp, sleeping sweetly, surrounded by flowers, with his

infant son in her arms. He felt a great craving to take up the child

in one first and last embrace before he departed, but the fear of

waking his wife prevented him, and at last he turned away and went out

into the bright Indian moonshine and mounted his horse and rode off

into the world.

TIBETAN BUDDHA

TIBETAN BUDDHA

Gilt Brass Casting in India Museum, showing Gautama Buddha in the

“earth witness” attitude

_India Mus._

Very far he rode that night, and in the morning he stopped outside the

lands of his clan, and dismounted beside a sandy river. There he cut

off his flowing locks with his sword, removed all his ornaments and

sent them and his horse and sword back to his house. Going on he

presently met a ragged man and exchanged clothes with him, and so

having divested himself of all worldly entanglements he was free to

pursue his search after wisdom. He made his way southward to a resort

of hermits and teachers in a hilly spur of the Vindhya Mountains.

There lived a number of wise men in a warren of caves, going into the

town for their simple supplies and imparting their knowledge by word of

mouth to such as cared to come to them. Gautama became versed in all

the metaphysics of his age. But his acute intelligence was

dissatisfied with the solutions offered him.

A BURMESE BUDDHA

A BURMESE BUDDHA

Marble Figure from Mandalay, eighteenth century work, now in the India

Museum

The Indian mind has always been disposed to believe that power and

knowledge may be obtained by extreme asceticism, by fasting,

sleeplessness, and self-torment, and these ideas Gautama now put to the

test. He betook himself with five disciple companions to the jungle

and there he gave himself up to fasting and terrible penances. His

fame spread, “like the sound of a great bell hung in the canopy of the

skies.” But it brought him no sense of truth achieved. One day he was

walking up and down, trying to think in spite of his enfeebled state.

Suddenly he fell unconscious. When he recovered, the preposterousness

of these semi-magical ways to wisdom was plain to him.

THE DHAMÊKH TOWER

THE DHAMÊKH TOWER

In the Deer Park at Sarnath. Sixth Century A.D.

_(From a Painting in the India Museum)_

He horrified his companions by demanding ordinary food and refusing to

continue his mortifications. He had realized that whatever truth a man

may reach is reached best by a nourished brain in a healthy body. Such

a conception was absolutely foreign to the ideas of the land and age.

His disciples deserted him, and went off in a melancholy state to

Benares. Gautama wandered alone.

When the mind grapples with a great and intricate problem, it makes its

advances step by step, with but little realization of the gains it has

made, until suddenly, with an effect of abrupt illumination, it

realizes its victory. So it happened to Gautama. He had seated

himself under a great tree by the side of a river to eat, when this

sense of clear vision came to him. It seemed to him that he saw life

plain. He is said to have sat all day and all night in profound

thought, and then he rose up to impart his vision to the world.



He went on to Benares and there he sought out and won back his lost

disciples to his new teaching. In the King’s Deer Park at Benares they

built themselves huts and set up a sort of school to which came many

who were seeking after wisdom.

The starting point of his teaching was his own question as a fortunate

young man, “Why am I not completely happy?” It was an introspective

question. It was a question very different in quality from the frank

and self-forgetful _externalized_ curiosity with which Thales and

Heraclitus were attacking the problems of the universe, or the equally

self-forgetful burthen of moral obligation that the culminating

prophets were imposing upon the Hebrew mind. The Indian teacher did

not forget self, he concentrated upon self and sought to destroy it.

All suffering, he taught, was due to the greedy desires of the

individual. Until man has conquered his personal cravings his life is

trouble and his end sorrow. There were three principal forms that the

craving for life took and they were all evil. The first was the desire

of the appetites, greed and all forms of sensuousness, the second was

the desire for a personal and egotistic immortality, the third was the

craving for personal success, worldliness, avarice and the like. All

these forms of desire had to be overcome to escape from the distresses

and chagrins of life. When they were overcome, when self had vanished

altogether, then serenity of soul, Nirvana, the highest good was

attained.

This was the gist of his teaching, a very subtle and metaphysical

teaching indeed, not nearly so easy to understand as the Greek

injunction to see and know fearlessly and rightly and the Hebrew

command to fear God and accomplish righteousness. It was a teaching

much beyond the understanding of even Gautama’s immediate disciples,

and it is no wonder that so soon as his personal influence was

withdrawn it became corrupted and coarsened. There was a widespread

belief in India at that time that at long intervals Wisdom came to

earth and was incarnate in some chosen person who was known as the

Buddha. Gautama’s disciples declared that he was a Buddha, the latest

of the Buddhas, though there is no evidence that he himself ever

accepted the title. Before he was well dead, a cycle of fantastic

legends began to be woven about him. The human heart has always

preferred a wonder story to a moral effort, and Gautama Buddha became

very wonderful.

Yet there remained a substantial gain in the world. If Nirvana was too

high and subtle for most men’s imaginations, if the myth-making impulse

in the race was too strong for the simple facts of Gautama’s life, they

could at least grasp something of the intention of what Gautama called

the Eight-fold way, the Aryan or Noble Path in life. In this there was

an insistence upon mental uprightness, upon right aims and speech,

right conduct and honest livelihood. There was a quickening of the

conscience and an appeal to generous and self-forgetful ends.