en in addition to what
may be gathered from his own record of his travels. I have read the
accounts of him in the "Memoirs of Eminent Monks," compiled in A.D. 519,
and a later work, the "Memoirs of Marvellous Monks," by the third
emperor of the Ming dynasty (A.D. 1403-1424), which, however, is nearly
all borrowed from the other; and all in them that has an appearance of
verisimilitude can be brought within brief compass.

His surname, they tell us, was Kung, and he was a native of Wu-yang in
P'ing-yang, which is still the name of a large department in Shan-hsi.
He had three brothers older than himself; but when they all died before
shedding their first teeth, his father devoted him to the service of the
Buddhist society, and had him entered as a Sramanera, still keeping him
at home in the family. The little fellow fell dangerously ill, and the
father sent him to the monastery, where he soon got well and refused to
return to his parents.

When he was ten years old, his father died; and an uncle, considering
the widowed solitariness and helplessness of the mother, urged him to
renounce the monastic life, and return to her, but the boy replied, "I
did not quit the family in compliance with my father's wishes, but
because I wished to be far from the dust and vulgar ways of life. This
is why I choose monkhood." The uncle approved of his words and gave over
urging him. When his mother also died, it appeared how great had been
the affection for her of his fine nature; but after her burial he
returned to the monastery.

On one occasion he was cutting rice with a score or two of his
fellow-disciples, when some hungry thieves came upon them to take away
their grain by force. The other Sramaneras all fled, but our young hero
stood his ground, and said to the thieves, "If you must have the grain,
take what you please. But, sirs, it was your former neglect of charity
which brought you to your present state of destitution; and now, again,
you wish to rob others. I am afraid that in the coming ages you will
have still greater poverty and distress; I am sorry for you beforehand."
With these words he followed his companions to the monastery, while the
thieves left the grain and went away, all the monks, of whom there were
several hundred, doing homage to his conduct and courage.

When he had finished his novitiate and taken on him the obligations of
the full Buddhist orders, his earnest courage, clear intelligence, and
strict regula