the gain might have been worth the cost. But the more he thought, and the more he examined himself and denied himself, the more he felt himself a prey to a mental torture worse than any bodily suffering; this was the fear that all his efforts would be wasted, that he should die having gone wrong, and, after all his weary efforts, that he would only fail. At last one day, when walking slowly up and down, lost in thought, he suddenly staggered and fell to the ground. Some of the disciples thought he was actually dead; but he recovered and, despairing of further profit from such penance, began again to take regular food, and gave up his self-mortification. Then, when he was most in need of sympathy, when his wavering faith might have been strengthened by the tender trust and respect of faithful followers, his disciples forsook him and went away to Benares. To them it was an axiom that mental conquest lay through bodily suppression. In giving up his penance he had to give up their esteem; and in his sore distress they left him to bear the bitterness of failure alone.
There now ensued a second struggle in Gautama’s mind, described in both the Pali and the Sanskrit accounts with a wealth of poetic imagery. Each event of this crisis is surrounded in the Buddhist accounts of their revered Teacher with the wildest legends, in which the very thoughts passing through the mind of Gautama appear in gorgeous descriptions as angels of darkness or of light. They represent him as sitting sublime, calm, and serene during violent attacks made upon him by a visible Tempter and his wicked angels, armed by all kinds of weapons, the greatness of the temptation shadowed forth by the horrors of the convulsion of the powers of Nature. “When the conflict began between the Saviour of the world and the Prince of Evil, a thousand appalling meteors fell; clouds and darkness prevailed. Even this earth, with the oceans and mountains it contains, though it is unconscious, quaked like a conscious being, like a fond bride when forcibly torn from her bridegroom, like the festoons of a vine shaking under the blasts of a whirlwind. The ocean rose under the vibration of this earthquake; rivers flowed back towards their sources; peaks of lofty mountains where countless trees had grown for ages rolled crumbling to the earth; a fierce storm howled all around; the roar of the concussion became terrific; the very sun enveloped itself in awful darkness, and a host of headless spirits filled the air.”
34. Seated Buddha surrounded by many Buddhas, date unknown, Wat Si Phoutthabath, Luang Prabang, Laos, various materials.
35. Trio of seated Buddhas, date unknown, Shwesigone Pagoda, Monywa, Burma.
36. Head of reclining Buddha, date unknown, Po Win Daung Caves, near Monywa, Burma.
He abandons his austerities (Pali Canon):
“I thought: ‘I recall once, when my father the Sakyan was working, and I was sitting in the cool shade of a rose-apple tree, then – quite withdrawn from sensuality, withdrawn from unskilful mental qualities – I entered and remained in the first jhana: rapture and pleasure born from withdrawal, accompanied by directed thought and evaluation. Could that be the path to Awakening?’ Then, following on that memory, came the realisation: ‘That is the path to Awakening.’ I thought: ‘So why am I afraid of that pleasure that has nothing to do with sensuality, nothing to do with unskilful mental qualities?’ I thought: ‘I am no longer afraid of that pleasure that has nothing to do with sensuality, nothing to do with unskilful mental qualities, but it is not easy to achieve that pleasure with a body so extremely emaciated. Suppose I were to take some solid food: some rice and porridge.’ So I took some solid food: some rice and porridge. Now five monks had been attending on me, thinking, ‘If Gautama, our contemplative, achieves some higher state, he will tell us.’ But when they saw me taking some solid food – some rice and porridge – they were disgusted and left me, thinking, ‘Gautama the contemplative is living luxuriously. He has abandoned his exertion and is backsliding into abundance.’
“So when I had taken solid food and regained strength, then – quite withdrawn from sensuality, withdrawn from unskilful mental qualities, I entered and remained in the first jhana: rapture and pleasure born from withdrawal, accompanied by directed thought and evaluation. But the pleasant feeling that arose in this way did not invade my mind or remain. With the stilling of directed thought and evaluation, I entered and remained in the second jhana: rapture and pleasure born of composure, unification of awareness free from directed thought and evaluation – internal assurance. But the pleasant feeling that arose in this way did not invade my mind or remain. With the fading of rapture I remained in equanimity, mindful and alert, and physically sensitive of pleasure. I entered and remained in the third jhana, of which the Noble Ones declare, ‘Equanimous and mindful, he has a pleasurable abiding.’ But the pleasant feeling that arose in this way did not invade my mind or remain. With the abandoning of pleasure and pain – as with the earlier disappearance of elation and distress – I entered and remained in the fourth jhana: purity of equanimity and mindfulness, neither pleasure nor pain. But the pleasant feeling that arose in this way did not invade my mind or remain.”
[MN 36]
37. Torso and Head of Buddha, date unknown, Wat Si Muang, Vientiane, Laos, gilt bronze.
Disenchanted and dissatisfied, Gautama had given up all that most men value in order to seek peace in secluded study and self-denial. Failing to attain this object while learning the wisdom of others and living the simple life of a student, he devoted himself to that intense meditation and penance which all philosophers at that time said would raise men above the gods. Still unsatisfied, longing always for a certainty that seemed ever just beyond his grasp, he had added vigil to vigil and penance to penance. When, to the wondering view of others, he had become more than a saint, his indomitable resolution and faith suddenly and completely broke down. Then, when sympathy would have been most welcome, Gautama found his friends falling away and his disciples leaving him. Soon after, he wandered out towards the banks of the Nairanjara, received his morning meal from the hands of Sujata, the daughter of a neighboring villager, and sat himself down to eat it under the shade of a large tree to be known from that time as the sacred Bodhi tree, or tree of wisdom. There he remained through the long hours of that day, debating with himself what next to do. The philosophy he had trusted in seemed to be doubtful; the penance he had practised so long had brought no certainty, no peace; and all his old temptations came back upon him with renewed force. For years he had looked at all earthly good as vanity, worthless and transitory. He had thought that it contained within itself the seeds of evil, and must inevitably bring forth its bitter fruit. But now to his wavering faith the sweet delights of home and love, the charms of wealth and power, began to show themselves in a different light, and to glow again with attractive colours. They were within his reach; he knew he would be welcomed back, and yet he was plagued by doubt: Would returning home bring him satisfaction? Would all his labours be lost? Was there no solid ground to stand on? He agonised in his doubt from the early morning until sunset. But as the day ended the religious side of his nature had won the victory; his doubts had cleared away. He had become Buddha, that is, enlightened; he had grasped, as it seemed to him, the solution of the great mystery of sorrow, and had learned at once its causes and its cure. He seemed to have gained the haven of peace that allowed him to rest at last on a certitude that could never be shaken.
But his victory had not been won without a loss. The works of penance and self-mortification he had so long and so resolutely carried out had been tried in the fire and found wanting; from that day he not only claimed no merit on account of them, but took every opportunity of declaring that such penances were not advantageous, which was a renunciation greater, probably, to one in his position, than that which the Buddhists call the ‘Great Renunciation.’
38. Flower Buddha, date unknown, Tibet, copper with gold, height: 19 cm.
39. Seated Buddha, date unknown, location unknown.
