(This is chapter 20 of the Nicholas Roerich's book
Shambhala.)
SON OF THE
KING
That
which human hands would divide, life itself unites. At a time when East and
West are conventionally counter-opposed, life itself molds the foundations of
one wisdom.
Christianity
and Buddhism would seem to be divided by many walls and yet the folk-wisdom
does not recognize these divisions. With a pure benevolence, nations speak of
Issa, the Best of Men. Widely varying nations revere the wisdom of Moses and in
Christian Churches the name of Buddha is pronounced.
One
is surprised to see on the walls of the old Catholic Campo Santo in Piza, the
beautiful Fresco by Nardo di Cione representing the Son of the King, the future
Buddha, for the first time witnessing the ends of human existence—the corpses
encountered on his journey. This is a Roman Catholic Church.
In
the Greek Orthodox Church, in the old descriptions of the “Lives of the
Saints,” you have a detailed account of the life of Iosophat, the son of the
King of India. You begin to understand that Iosaph, or Iosaphat, in distorted
Arabian, is “Bodhisattva” wrongly pronounced.
You
begin to study this lengthy narrative beyond the veil of Christian
interpretation, and you perceive the fragments from the fundamental narrative
of Buddha’s life.
Without
yielding to any personal conceptions, let us take a few literal passages from
the old “Chetyi-Minei”:
«
In the East there is a very large and broad country, called India, where dwell
varied peoples. And the country outshines in riches and fertility all other
countries and its boundaries reach up to Persia.
This
country was once enlightened by St. Thomas the apostle, but had not totally
ceased to worship idols, because many were such inveterate heathens that they
would not accept the teachings of salvation and continued to adhere to their
alluring deviltries. In the course of time this heresy spread as do weeds,
suffocating the good seeds, so that the number of heathens had become much
greater than those of the faithful.
Then
a King, whose name was Avenir, became ruler in this country and he was great and
celebrated for his power and possessions. And a son was born to the King and he
was called losaph. The child was extremely beautiful and this extraordinary
beauty was a sign of the great beauty of his spirit.
The
King summoned a great number of Magis and astrologists and inquired of them
what future awaited the child, when it came of age. To this they replied that
he would be greater than all the preceding kings. But one of the diviners, the
wisest of them all, and wise not through the stars but because of the divine
knowledge within him, told the King:
-
“The
child will not come of age in this kingdom, but in a kingdom far better and
infinitely larger.”
The
King built a wonderful palace with a vast number of spacious rooms wherein
losaph was to be educated.
When
the child grew up and attained reason, the King retained mentors and servants
who were young and of beautiful appearance, to attend to all his needs. And he
gave strict commands that no stranger was ever to be admitted to see the
prince. The King also commanded that no one was ever to talk to the prince of
the sorrows of life; nor of death, old age, nor of illness and other griefs,
which might overcast his pleasures. But every one was to speak to him only of
beautiful and joyful things, in order to occupy his mind with enjoyments and
pleasures and not to permit him time to think of the future.
Thus
the prince, without leaving his beautiful palace, attained his youth and came
to understand Indian and Egyptian wisdom; he grew wise and understanding, and
his life was adorned with worthy principles. Then he began to ponder why his
father kept him in such solitude and he asked one of his tutors about it. The
latter, perceiving that the youth was perfect in mind and of great kindliness,
told him what the astrologers had prophesied at his birth.
The
King often visited his son whom he loved dearly. And once Iosaph spoke to his
father:
-
“Greatly
do I desire to know, my father, of something which forever burdens my mind with
grief and sorrow.”
The
father, feeling a pain at his heart, replied:
-
“Tell
me, dear child, what is the sorrow that torments you and I shall immediately
try to transform it into joy.”
So
Iosaph asked:
-
“What
are the causes of my imprisonment here; why do you imprison me behind these
walls and gates, depriving me of the outdoors and making me invisible to all?”
And
the father replied:
-
“I
do not wish, my child, that you should see aught which may evoke sorrow in your
heart and thus rob you of happiness; I wish that you would live here all your
life in ceaseless pleasures, surrounded with joy and happiness.”
-
“Then
know, father,” responded the youth, “that this confinement brings neither joy
nor pleasure, but such distress and despair that my very food and drink seem
embittered. I want to see all that there is behind these gates, and therefore,
if you do not wish me to die of grief allow me to go wherever I wish and let my
soul enjoy the sight of that, which up to now I have not seen.”
Hearing
this, the King became downcast but realizing that should he continue to confine
his son he would cause him still greater grief and sorrow, he said:
-
“Let
it be, my child, according to your desire.”
And
he at once ordered the best horses and arranged everything in full glory as
befits princes. And he no longer forbade his son to leave the palace but
allowed him to go wherever he desired. But he gave orders to all his followers,
that they should allow nothing sad nor unworthy to approach the prince, and
that they should show him only the very best and beautiful—that which would
gladden his eye and heart. And along the road, he ordered choirs to sing and
music to be played and all other manner of entertainments to regale the prince.
Often
the prince left his palace, riding in full regal splendor and glory. But once,
through the oversight of his servants, he saw two men: one leprous and the
other blind.
Then
he asked his companions:
-
“Who
are they and why are they like that?”
And
his companions, seeing that it was impossible to hide human ailments from him any
longer, said:
-
“Those
are human sufferings, which usually befall people because of the frailty of
nature and because of the feeble make-up of our bodies.”
The
youth asked:
-
“Do
such things happen to every one?”
And
he was told:
-
“Not
to every one, but to those whose health has been destroyed through excess of
worldly goods.”
Then
the youth asked:
-
“If
this does not happen as a rule to all people, then do those, to whom such
mishaps befall, know in advance or do these things occur suddenly and
unexpectedly?”
His
companions replied:
-
“Who
of us can know the future?”
The
prince ceased his questions but his heart became sad at sight of these
happenings and the expression of his face changed. A few days later, he
encountered an old man, feeble, his face full of wrinkles, with bent and frail
limbs, entirely gray, toothless and almost unable to speak. Noticing him, the
youth was overcome with horror and, ordering him to approach, he asked:
-
“Who
is this and why is he like that?”
-
“He
is already very old, and because his strength is leaving him and because his
body has become weak, he is in the unfortunate condition which you see.”
Again
the youth asked:
-
“What
will happen to him next, when he will live a great many more years?”
And
they replied:
-
“Nothing,
but that death will take him.”
The
youth continued asking:
-
“Will
such happen to every one, or does it happen but to some of us?”
They
replied:
-
“If
death does not overtake us in our younger years, then it is impossible, after
many years, not to attain that state.”
The
youth asked:
-
“At
what age do people become like him, and if death awaits each one of us without
exception, is there no possibility to escape it and to avoid this misery?”
And
he was told:
-
“At
the age of eighty or one hundred, people weaken, become feeble and die, and it
cannot be otherwise, for death is the natural due of man, and its approach is
inevitable.”
Seeing
and hearing all this, the youth, sighing from the depths of his heart, said:
-
“If
this is so, then our life is bitter and full of woe, and who can be gay and
devoid of sorrow, when he is ever awaiting death, which is not only inevitable,
but also, as you say, unexpected.”
And
he returned to his palace very, very sad, continually pondering over death and
repeating to himself:
-
“If
all are to die, I also must die, and I even do not know when… And after my
death, who will remember me? And after long ages everything will pass into
forgetfulness. ... Is there no other life after death and is there no other
world?”
.
. .
And
he became very troubled by all these thoughts. However, he said nothing to his
father, but asked his mentor whether he did not know of some one, who could
explain all this to him and ease his mind for in thought he could find no
solution.
His
teacher said:
-
“I
have told you before, that the wise hermits, who lived here and who pondered
over all these questions, have either been killed by your father or have been
exiled in his moments of anger. Now I know of no one within our boundaries.”
The
youth became deeply grieved at this, and his heart ached and life became a
continuous torture; and thus all the sweetness and the beauty of this world
became in his eyes but debris and dirt. And God, desiring that each one save
himself and that reason should reach truth, with His usual love and His mercy
to mankind, pointed the right way to the youth in the following manner:
At
this time there lived a monk, wise, fully perfect in all virtues, by the name
of Varlaam, a priest by rank. He lived in the desert of Senaridia. Inspired by
Divine revelation, this wise man learned of the prince’s plight, and, departing
from the desert and changing his garments for those of a merchant, took ship
and departed to the Indian Kingdom. Arriving in the city, where the prince
lived in his palace, he stayed there many days acquainting himself with details
about the prince and his near ones. Thus, finding out that the mentor was
nearest to the prince, he went to the mentor and said:
-
“Know
thou, my sir, that I am a merchant and that I have come from far-off lands. I
have a precious stone, which has no equal anywhere and never had, and which up
till now I have shown to no one, but I now speak to you about it, because I see
that you are a clever and able man. Therefore take me to the prince and I will give
him that stone, which is of such high price that no one can calculate it, for
it exceeds all good and expensive things. The stone gives sight to the blind,
hearing to the deaf, speech to the dumb, health to the ailing, and can cast out
the devil from the obsessed, making rational the insane. He who possesses this
stone can attain all the good he desires.”
The
mentor replied:
-
“You
seem an old man, yet you speak empty words and you overflow with self-praise: I
have seen many precious stones and pearls and I have possessed many myself,
but, I have never heard of nor seen a stone that possessed such powers. But let
me see it and if your words are true I will immediately take you to the prince
and you will be honored and you will receive the remuneration you merit.”
Varlaam
said:
-
“You
are correct in saying that you have neither seen nor heard of such stones, but,
believe me, I have such a stone. I do not wish to praise myself, nor do I lie
in my old age, but I speak the truth. But as regards your desire to see it,
listen to what I have to tell you: my precious stone, besides the faculties and
miracles mentioned, has also this property, that it can be seen only by those,
who possess absolutely healthy eyes and a perfectly chaste body; if, however,
some one unclean unexpectedly sees the stone, he at once loses his sight and
reason. Knowing the art of healing I can tell that your eyes ache and I
therefore fear to show you the stone, lest I be guilty of your blindness. But
of the prince I have heard that he leads a pure life, that he has healthy and
clear eyes, and I therefore would show him my treasure. So do not be
indifferent and deprive your master of such an important possession.”
The
mentor replied:
-
“If
that be so, then do not show me the stone for I have defiled myself by many an
unclean deed, and, as you say, I have an unhealthy vision. But I believe you
and I will not be indifferent but will inform my master at once.”
And
the teacher went into the palace and related to the prince all in the order as
it happened. And the prince having listened to this, felt a great joy in his
heart and became uplifted in spirit. He ordered the merchant to visit him at
once.
Varlaam
entered the room of the prince and, bowing, greeted him with a wise and
pleasant speech. The prince ordered him to be seated and as soon as the mentor
had left, said to the old man:
-
“Show
me the stone of which you spoke to my mentor and of which you said such great
and wonderful things.”
But
Varlaam spoke thus to the prince:
-
“Everything
that has been told to you about me, prince, is true and right, for it would not
befit me to speak an untruth to your Highness. But before I have come to know
your thoughts, I cannot open to you my great secret, because the Lord has said
to me: ‘A sower went forth to sow. And when he sowed, some seeds fell by the
wayside, and the fowls came and devoured them; some fell upon stony places,
where they had little earth; forthwith they sprung up, because they had no
deepness of earth; and some fell among thorns; and the thorns sprung up and
choked them; but others fell into good ground and brought forth fruit a
hundredfold.’ Thus if I will find in your heart good and fertile ground, I will
not be hesitant but will sow the divine seed and will open to you the great mystery.
But if the ground be stony or full of thorns, then better not to waste the
saving seeds and better not to permit them to be devoured by birds and beasts,
for it is strictly forbidden to throw jewels before them. But I hope to find in
you the best soil for accepting the worthy seed and for beholding the precious
stone and becoming enlightened by the dawn of light and yielding fruit an
hundredfold. For because of you I have gone to many pains and I have sailed a
long way, in order to show you what you have never seen and to teach you, what
you have never heard.”
Iosaph
said to him in reply:
-
“I
am possessed, O venerable sire, by an ardent desire to hear of new, worthy
worlds, and within my heart there burns a fire, that impels me to gain
knowledge of important and essential things. But until now I have not found
such a man, who could explain that which is in my mind and designate to me the
right path. But should I find such person never would I cast his words, to the
birds nor beasts, nor would my heart be of stone or full of thorns, but each
word I would cultivate within my heart. And should you yourself know of
something, please do not hide it from me, but teach me. For when I heard that
you were from a distant land, my soul rejoiced and I became full of hope to
receive from you that which I desired to know: this was why I asked you to
enter immediately and why I received you with joy, as if you were long known to
me or my peer.”
So
Varlaam explained the teaching in parables and allegories adorning his speech
with many beautiful narratives and precepts. As wax, the heart of the prince
softened and the more the old sage told him the more eager became the prince to
listen to him. Finally the prince began to realize that the precious stone was
the wonderful Light of the Spirit, which opens the eyes of the mind, and he
believed without the slightest doubt everything which Varlaam taught him. And
rising from his throne and going up to the old wise man, he embraced him and
said:
-
“O,
Thou most worthy of all men! This is, I believe, the precious stone, which you
keep in secret and which you do not wish to show to every one, but only to the
worthy, whose spiritual feelings are sound and healthy. For as soon as your
words reached my ears, a sweet light entered my heart and the heavy cover of
grief which so long burdened my soul dispersed into naught. So tell me, am I
correct in my reason, and if you know anything further, please teach me!”
And
Varlaam continued, telling him of the wise and of the evil death, of one
resurrection, of an eternal life, of the beautiful consequences of good deeds
and of the sufferings of sinners. And the words of Varlaam moved the prince
deeply, so that his eyes filled with tears and he wept long. Varlaam also
explained the emptiness and inconstancy of this world and told him about
renunciation and about the solitary life of monks in the desert.
Like
jewels in a shrine, Iosaph gathered all these words in his heart, and he began
to love Varlaam so greatly that he wanted to be with him forever to listen to
his teaching. He asked him of the solitary life, of their food and clothing,
saying:
-
“Tell
me, what do you and those with you, wear in the desert, and what is your food
and where does it come from?”
Varlaam
replied:
-
“For
food we gather the fruit of the trees and the roots that grow in the desert.
If, however, a believer brings us bread, we accept it as God-sent; our clothing
is of hair and of the skins of sheep and goats, worn and patched, and the same
in summer and winter. The additional clothing that you see on me, has been
borrowed from a worthy layman, so that none may know that I am a monk. Should I
have come in my own clothing, they would not have permitted me to see you.”
Iosaph
asked Varlaam to show him his own garments and when Varlaam took off the
merchant’s garments, Iosaph saw a terrible sight: the body of the old man was
quite dry and black from the rays of the sun, the skin hung on his bones.
Around the loins and legs, down to the knee, was a ragged prickly hair-cloth
and a mantle of the same hung on his shoulders. losaph was amazed at such
hardship and at the great endurance of the aged man and he sighed and wept,
asking the sage to take him with him into the lonely life.
Varlaam
said:
-
“Do
not ask this now, for then the anger of your father may fall on us all. Better
remain here, growing in the knowledge of the great truths. I will go back
alone. Later on, when the Lord so wishes, you will come to me, for I believe
that in this life, as well as in the future life, we will live together.”
Iosaph
replied in tears:
-
“If
such is the higher will, I will remain. Take with you plenty of gold to bring
to your brethren in the desert, for food and clothing.”
-
“The
rich give to the poor,” retorted Varlaam, “and not the poor to the rich. How is
it that you want to give us, the rich, when you yourself are poor? Even the
least of our brethren is incomparably richer than yourself. I hope that you
also will soon acquire these true riches; but when you will become rich in this
way, then you will turn miserly and incommunicative.”
Iosaph
did not understand him, and Varlaam explained his words to the effect, that he
who renounces all earthly goods, acquires heavenly riches and the smallest
heavenly gift is more valuable than all riches of this world. And he added:
-
“Gold
is often the cause of sin, and therefore we do not keep it. But you wish, that
I should bring to my brethren this snake, which they have already vanquished.”
And
for a long time, Varlaam visited the prince daily and taught him the wonderful
path to the light.
One
day Varlaam told him of his intention to leave, losaph could hardly bear the
separation from his teacher and wept bitterly. As a last token he asked Varlaam
to give him his mantle. The wise old man gave Iosaph the mantle and Iosaph
valued it more than his royal purple robes.
Once
Iosaph, praying long with tears in his eyes, wearied, fell asleep on the
ground. In his dream he suddenly saw himself taken by some strangers through
most wonderful lands into a large field covered with beautiful and fragrant
flowers.
Here
he saw a large variety of gorgeous trees, bearing unknown and strange fruits,
pleasant to look at and inviting to the taste; the leaves of the trees were
swaying softly in the light breeze and a sublime aroma filled the air. Under
the trees there were altars of pure gold, laid with precious stones and pearls,
shining most brilliantly. He further noticed many couches bedecked with covers
of untold beauty and luster. In the center, a spring flowed, its clear and lovely
waters caressing the eye.
The
strangers led Iosaph through these fields into a city, glowing in a most
brilliant light. All the walls were of pure gold and of precious stones,
hitherto unseen and the pillars and gates were of pearl in one piece. But who
can describe the full beauty and glory of that city?! A light in abundant rays
shone from the heights, and filled all the streets of the city, and winged and
brilliant warriors walked in the streets and sang sweet songs, such as the ear
of man has never heard. And Iosaph heard a voice:
-
“This
is the resting place of the virtuous! Here you see the happiness of those who
in their lifetime have pleased the Lord!”
The
unknown men then intended to bring Iosaph back, but he, captured by the beauty
and the glory of the city, said:
-
“I
beg of you, please do not take from me this indescribable joy and permit me to
dwell in some corner of this beautiful city!”
-
“Now
you cannot remain here,” he was told. “But for your many heroic deeds and
aspirations, you shall in time enter this place, if only you will apply all
your strength. For those who strive shall take possession of the kingdom of
heaven.”
.
. .
On
the fortieth day after the death of King Avenir, Iosaph called together, in
memory of his father, all the statesmen, counselors and commanders of the
armies and told them his great secret and that he intended to leave this
earthly kingdom and everything of the world, and wished to go into the desert
and lead the life of a monk.
All
became saddened and wept because they loved him for his benevolence, humility
and charity. And every one begged Iosaph not to leave them. But at night he
addressed a decree to the entire council and to all the commanders. And leaving
this decree in his bedroom, he departed secretly into the desert.
In
the morning the news of his flight spread and the people became deeply depressed
and troubled. Many wept. Then all the inhabitants of the city decided to go and
search for him and verily they found him near a dried stream, lifting his hands
to heaven in prayer.
The
people surrounded him, fell on their knees before him and beseeched him with
tears and sobs, to return to his palace. But he asked them not to cause him
grief and to leave him free, for his decision was final. And he walked on into
the wilderness. Then the people, weeping bitterly, had to turn home, but a few
followed him at a distance until sunset, when the darkness set in and prevented
them from following him further.
In
the desert Iosaph led a life of hardship, for food was scarce, and even the
grass was dry and the ground gave little fruit. But his spiritual achievements
were great. And once again, in his sleep, he beheld a dream. The same strangers
took him and led him again through the beautiful field, and he again saw the
brilliant city. When they arrived at its gates, they were met by Divine Angels,
who carried two wreaths of undescribable beauty.
Iosaph
asked:
-
“Whose
are these wreaths?”
-
“Both
are yours,” replied the angels, “one for the saving of many souls and the other
for departing the earthly kingdom and beginning the spiritual life.”
»
In
such an original way the old book “Life of the Saints —Chetyi Minei” relates
the life of the Buddha. Behind the ancient Slavonic ecclesiastic language, one
perceives clearly the original narrative of the Life of the Blessed Buddha. And
the vision of the prince, before his withdrawal into the desert, clearly
corresponds to the enlightenment of the Buddha.
At
the end of the narrative is added a prayer to the Indian prince which says:
“And leaving his kingdom, he reached the desert… Pray for the saving of our
souls.” There is added still another prayer, stating that Iosaph “now has, as
his home, the shining hills of Jerusalem,” and asking that he may “pray for all
those who have faith in Thee.” Thus the followers of Christ pray and approach
the Blessed Buddha.
In
November, in all churches, the name of the saintly Indian prince, losaph, is
mentioned, and the gray-bearded Old Believer on the Altai Mountain sings the
ancient sacred verse devoted to the blessed Indian prince. It is deeply
touching, on the heights of the Altai, to hear the words of the prince
addressing himself to the desert:
“Oh, receive me and accept me, Thou silent
desert!”
“How can I receive Thee, Prince, I have no
palaces nor royal chambers to shelter Thee?”
“But I need no palaces and royal chambers!”
Thus
on the Altai heights sings the gray-bearded Old Believer. And on the mountain
near by a little shepherd, like ancient Lelor the blessed Krishna, weaving
wreaths of marigold, ringingly proclaims another version dedicated to the same
sacred memory:
Oh,
my Beloved Master!
Why
hast Thou left me so soon?
Thou
hast left me orphaned!
Grieving
through all my days.
Oh,
thou desert, the beautiful!
Accept
me in thy embrace.
Into
thy chosen palace,
Peaceful
and silent.
I
flee, as if from a serpent,
From
earthly fame and splendor,
From
wealth and resplendent mansions.
My
desert, beloved, accept me!
I
shall reach thy meadows.
To
rejoice at your wondrous flowers.
Here
to dwell my approaching years.
Until
the end of my days…
Altai,
1926.
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