dness every living thing.
What wonder that the deepest hells were stirred?
What wonder that the heavens were filled with joy?
For he, bowed down with sorrow, going forth,
Shall come with joy and teach all men the way
From earth's sad turmoil to Nirvana's rest.

[1]In the "Light of Asia" the prince is made to leave his young wife
before the birth of their son, saying: "Whom, if I wait to bless, my
heart will fail,"--a piece of cowardice hardly consistent with my
conception of that brave and self-denying character.

[2]In the "Light of Asia," the prince, after leaving his young wife, is
made to pass through a somewhat extensive harem _en deshabille_, which
is described with voluptuous minuteness. Although there are some
things in later Buddhistic literature that seem to justify it, I can
but regard the introduction of an institution so entirely alien to
every age, form and degree of Aryan civilization and so inconsistent
with the tender conjugal love which was the strongest tie to his
beloved home, as a serious blot on that beautiful poem and as
inconsistent with its whole theory, for no prophet ever came from a
harem.

[3]A crore is ten millions.

BOOK IV.

Far from his kingdom, far from home and friends,
The prince has gone, his flowing locks close shorn,
His rings and soft apparel laid aside,
All signs of rank and royalty cast off.
Clothed in a yellow robe, simple and coarse,
Through unknown streets from door to door he passed,
Holding an alms-bowl forth for willing gifts.
But when, won by his stateliness and grace,
They brought their choicest stores, he gently said:
"Not so, my friends, keep such for those who need--
The sick and old; give me but common food."
And when sufficient for the day was given,
He took a way leading without the walls,
And through rich gardens, through the fruitful fields,
Under dark mangoes and the jujube trees,
Eastward toward Sailagiri, hill of gems;
And through an ancient grove, skirting its base,
Where, soothed by every soft and tranquil sound,
Full many saints were wearing out their days
In meditation, earnest, deep, intent,
Seeking to solve the mystery of life,
Seeking, by leaving all its joys and cares,
Seeking, by doubling all its woes and pains,
To gain an entrance to eternal rest;
And winding up its rugged sides, to where
A shoulder of the mountain, sloping west,
O'erhangs a cave with wild figs