Note 12 — Chapter II
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The meal Buddha partook of in company with his disciples at Tsonda’s residence is the last repast he ever made. The violent distemper which followed immediately is not, says the author of the legend, to be attributed to the food he took on this occasion. On the contrary, that very food, owing to the virtue infused therein by the agency of Nats and Brahmas, was rather an antidote against the illness that was to come inevitably upon Phra’s person. Previous to the dissolution of his bodily frame, it was decreed that Buddha should suffer. No occurrence could ever cause or avert this tragical circumstance. He had foreseen it, and with perfect resignation submitted to what was absolutely to happen. In the early days of Buddhism, when a deadly antagonism with Brahminism began to fill the peninsula of Hindustan with endless disputes between the supporters of the rival systems, Brahmins, with a cutting sneer, insulted their opponents by reminding them that the founder of their creed, whom they so much revered and exalted, had died from the effects of his having indulged too much in pork. About twenty-two years ago, when the writer was in Burmah, he chanced to meet with a shrewd old Christian, who, by the way, was fonder of disputing about religion than paying regard to the practice thereof. He boasted of having at his command deadly weapons against Buddhists, and unanswerable arguments to bear with an irresistible force on the vital parts of their creed. The chief one, which he always brought forward with a Brahminical scorn and laugh, was that Gaudama had died from his having eaten pork. He always did it with so much mirth and wit that his poor ignorant adversaries were completely overawed and effectually silenced by his bold and positive assertion, and left to him uncontested the field of battle, and allowed him to carry away undisputed the palm of victory. This way of arguing may prove a very amusing one, but it can never be approved of, as error is never to be combated by another error or a false supposition. The Burmese translator was doubtless aware of the weak side offered to the attacks of malignant opponents by the unpleasant distemper that followed the last meal of Buddha. He strenuously labours to defend the character of his hero by proving, in the best way he can, that such a bodily disorder was necessarily to take place, in order to set in relief the patience, composure, and other sterling virtues of the founder of Buddhism. The text of the legend has been read over several times with the greatest attention, for the purpose of ascertaining the reasons put forward to account for such an occurrence, but the result has proved unsatisfactory. A thick veil wraps in complete obscurity this curious episode of Buddha’s life. All that can be said is this: it was preordained that Buddha should be visited with a most painful distemper ere he attained Neibban; and so it happened.
To prove that the eating of pork had nothing to do with the distemper that followed, we have the authority of Gaudama himself, who commended the delicacy and flavour of that dish, and placed it on the same footing with the delicious Nogana he ate on the morning of the day previous to his obtaining the Buddhaship. He desired his ever-faithful attendant, Ananda, to repair to Tsonda’s place, and explain to him the great rewards reserved to him for having made the offering of such an excellent food.
The practical working of the Buddhistic system relatively to almsgiving deserves some notice. A man bestows alms on the Rahans, or spends money towards promoting some religious purpose; he does so with the belief that what he bestows now in the way of alms will secure to him countless advantages in future existences. Those favours, which he anticipates to enjoy hereafter, are all of a temporal nature, relating only to health, pleasures, riches, honours, and a long life either in the seat of man or in the seats of Nats. Such is the opinion generally entertained by all Buddhists in our days. Talapoins make the preaching of the law consist chiefly in enumerating the merits and rewards attending the bestowing of alms on persons devoted to a religious mode of life. In this respect the practical result of their sermons is certainly most beneficial to themselves. The spiritually-minded Buddha seems to have levelled a blow at concupiscence and covetousness by openly stating that alms have not the power to stem the current of demerits, to give rise and energy to the principle of merits, or to lead to wisdom, which enables man to weaken gradually concupiscence, anger, and ignorance, and to open and prepare the path to Neibban. True knowledge, attended by the practice of the virtues peculiar to those who have entered into the current of perfection by following the four Meggas, can alone enable a man to reach Neibban. Many excellent practices enforced by Buddhism have, so to speak, been reduced to a mere lifeless skeleton by ignorance and passions, but they would appear in a very different light were they animated with the spirit that has brought them into existence.