The Story of Mankind [90]
A little while later he
left the palace a second time. His carriage met a man who
suffered from a terrible disease. Siddhartha asked Channa
what had been the cause of this man's suffering, but the coachman
answered that there were many sick people in this world
and that such things could not be helped and did not matter
very much. The young prince was very sad when he heard this
but again he returned to his people.
A few weeks passed. One evening Siddhartha ordered his
carriage in order to go to the river and bathe. Suddenly his
horses were frightened by the sight of a dead man whose rotting
body lay sprawling in the ditch beside the road. The young
prince, who had never been allowed to see such things, was
frightened, but Channa told him not to mind such trifles. The
world was full of dead people. It was the rule of life that all
things must come to an end. Nothing was eternal. The grave
awaited us all and there was no escape.
That evening, when Siddhartha returned to his home, he
was received with music. While he was away his wife had
given birth to a son. The people were delighted because now
they knew that there was an heir to the throne and they
celebrated the event by the beating of many drums. Siddhartha,
however, did not share their joy. The curtain of life had been
lifted and he had learned the horror of man's existence. The
sight of death and suffering followed him like a terrible dream.
That night the moon was shining brightly. Siddhartha
woke up and began to think of many things. Never again
could he be happy until he should have found a solution to the
riddle of existence. He decided to find it far away from all
those whom he loved. Softly he went into the room where
Yasodhara was sleeping with her baby. Then he called for
his faithful Channa and told him to follow.
Together the two men went into the darkness of the night,
one to find rest for his soul, the other to be a faithful servant
unto a beloved master.
The people of India among whom Siddhartha wandered for
many years were just then in a state of change. Their ancestors,
the native Indians, had been conquered without great difficulty
by the war-like Aryans (our distant cousins) and thereafter
the Aryans had been the rulers and masters of tens of
millions of docile little brown men. To maintain themselves in
the seat of the mighty, they had divided the population into
different classes and gradually a system of ``caste'' of the most
rigid sort had been enforced upon the natives. The descendants
of the Indo-European conquerors belonged to the highest
``caste,'' the class of warriors and nobles. Next came the caste
of the priests. Below these followed the peasants and the
business men. The ancient natives, however, who were called
Pariahs, formed a class of despised and miserable slaves and
never could hope to be anything else.
Even the religion of the people was a matter of caste. The
old Indo-Europeans, during their thousands of years of
wandering, had met with many strange adventures. These had
been collected in a book called the Veda. The language of
this book was called Sanskrit, and it was closely related to the
different languages of the European continent, to Greek and
Latin and Russian and German and two-score others. The
three highest castes were allowed to read these holy scriptures.
The Pariah, however, the despised member of the lowest caste,
was not permitted to know its contents. Woe to the man of
noble or priestly caste who should teach a Pariah to study the
sacred volume!
The majority of the Indian people, therefore, lived in
misery. Since this planet offered them very little joy, salvation
from suffering must be found elsewhere. They tried to
derive a little consolation from meditation upon the bliss of
their future existence.
Brahma, the all-creator who was regarded by the Indian
people as the supreme ruler
left the palace a second time. His carriage met a man who
suffered from a terrible disease. Siddhartha asked Channa
what had been the cause of this man's suffering, but the coachman
answered that there were many sick people in this world
and that such things could not be helped and did not matter
very much. The young prince was very sad when he heard this
but again he returned to his people.
A few weeks passed. One evening Siddhartha ordered his
carriage in order to go to the river and bathe. Suddenly his
horses were frightened by the sight of a dead man whose rotting
body lay sprawling in the ditch beside the road. The young
prince, who had never been allowed to see such things, was
frightened, but Channa told him not to mind such trifles. The
world was full of dead people. It was the rule of life that all
things must come to an end. Nothing was eternal. The grave
awaited us all and there was no escape.
That evening, when Siddhartha returned to his home, he
was received with music. While he was away his wife had
given birth to a son. The people were delighted because now
they knew that there was an heir to the throne and they
celebrated the event by the beating of many drums. Siddhartha,
however, did not share their joy. The curtain of life had been
lifted and he had learned the horror of man's existence. The
sight of death and suffering followed him like a terrible dream.
That night the moon was shining brightly. Siddhartha
woke up and began to think of many things. Never again
could he be happy until he should have found a solution to the
riddle of existence. He decided to find it far away from all
those whom he loved. Softly he went into the room where
Yasodhara was sleeping with her baby. Then he called for
his faithful Channa and told him to follow.
Together the two men went into the darkness of the night,
one to find rest for his soul, the other to be a faithful servant
unto a beloved master.
The people of India among whom Siddhartha wandered for
many years were just then in a state of change. Their ancestors,
the native Indians, had been conquered without great difficulty
by the war-like Aryans (our distant cousins) and thereafter
the Aryans had been the rulers and masters of tens of
millions of docile little brown men. To maintain themselves in
the seat of the mighty, they had divided the population into
different classes and gradually a system of ``caste'' of the most
rigid sort had been enforced upon the natives. The descendants
of the Indo-European conquerors belonged to the highest
``caste,'' the class of warriors and nobles. Next came the caste
of the priests. Below these followed the peasants and the
business men. The ancient natives, however, who were called
Pariahs, formed a class of despised and miserable slaves and
never could hope to be anything else.
Even the religion of the people was a matter of caste. The
old Indo-Europeans, during their thousands of years of
wandering, had met with many strange adventures. These had
been collected in a book called the Veda. The language of
this book was called Sanskrit, and it was closely related to the
different languages of the European continent, to Greek and
Latin and Russian and German and two-score others. The
three highest castes were allowed to read these holy scriptures.
The Pariah, however, the despised member of the lowest caste,
was not permitted to know its contents. Woe to the man of
noble or priestly caste who should teach a Pariah to study the
sacred volume!
The majority of the Indian people, therefore, lived in
misery. Since this planet offered them very little joy, salvation
from suffering must be found elsewhere. They tried to
derive a little consolation from meditation upon the bliss of
their future existence.
Brahma, the all-creator who was regarded by the Indian
people as the supreme ruler