he feet of Buddha, grieving to behold his
failing strength. Tathagata, composed and quiet, spake: "Grieve not! the
time is one for joy; no call for sorrow or for anguish here; that which
for ages I have aimed at, now am I just about to obtain; delivered now
from the narrow bounds of sense, I go to the place of never-ending rest
and peace. I leave these things, earth, water, fire, and air, to rest
secure where neither birth nor death can come. Eternally delivered there
from grief, oh! tell me! why should I be sorrowful? Of yore on Sirsha's
mount, I longed to rid me of this body, but to fulfil my destiny I have
remained till now with men in the world; I have kept this sickly,
crumbling body, as dwelling with a poisonous snake; but now I am come to
the great resting-place, all springs of sorrow now forever stopped. No
more shall I receive a body, all future sorrow now forever done away; it
is not meet for you, on my account, for evermore, to encourage any
anxious fear."

The Mallas hearing Buddha's words, that he was now about to die, their
minds confused, their eyes bedimmed, as if they saw before them nought
but blackness, with hands conjoined, spake thus to Buddha: "Buddha is
leaving now the pain of birth and death, and entering on the eternal joy
of rest; doubtless we ought to rejoice thereat. Even as when a house is
burnt a man rejoices if his friends are saved from out the flames; the
gods! perhaps they rejoice--then how much more should men! But--when
Tathagata has gone and living things no more may see him, eternally cut
off from safety and deliverance--in thought of this we grieve and
sorrow. Like as a band of merchants crossing with careful steps a
desert, with only a single guide, suddenly he dies! Those merchants now
without a protector, how can they but lament! The present age, coming to
know their true case, has found the omniscient, and looked to him, but
yet has not obtained the final conquest; how will the world deride! Even
as it would laugh at one who, walking o'er a mountain full of treasure,
yet ignorant thereof, hugs still the pain of poverty."

So spake the Mallas, and with tearful words excuse themselves to Buddha,
even as an only child pleads piteously before a loving father. Buddha
then, with speech most excellent, exhibited and declared the highest
principle of truth, and thus addressed the Mallas:--

"In truth, 'tis as you say; seeking the way, you must exert yourselves
and strive with diligen