The unbelieving Rahans persisted in not acknowledging him as a Buddha, and reproached him with going about in search of disciples and in quest of alms. The same preaching was repeated by Buddha, and the same answer was returned by his incredulous hearers. At last Buddha, assuming a lofty and commanding tone, said to them, "I declare unto you that I am a Buddha, knowing the four great truths and showing the way to Neibban." The hitherto unbelieving ascetics humbled themselves, and declared their belief in him and in all that he had taught. From that moment they entered on the four ways of perfection. The day was that of the full moon of Watso. The preaching began at the moment when half the disc of the sun was visible on the western horizon, and half that of the moon was above the eastern horizon. When completed, the sun had just disappeared, and the moon's entire globe was visible on the horizon. The five first converts were named Kautagnya, Baddiha, Wappa, Mahanan, and Asadzi.
The Nats, guardians of the country of Baranathee[3] and Migadawon, hearing the sublime instructions delivered by Buddha on this occasion, cried aloud, "The law which the most excellent Buddha preaches is such as no man, Pounha or Brahma, can teach." Their united voices were heard in the lowest seat of Nats; the inhabitants of that seat, catching their words, repeated them, and they were heard by those of the next seat, and so on, until they reached the seats of Brahmas, and were re-echoed through 10,000 worlds. A mighty commotion was felt all over these worlds.
The five at first unbelieving, but now believing Rahans obtained the perfection of Thautapati. Buddha often repeated to those that approached him, "Come to me; I preach a doctrine which leads to the deliverance from all the miseries attending existence." On that day, being the full moon of Watso, eighteen koodes (18,000,000,000) of Nats and Brahmas who had heard his preachings obtained the deliverance. The conversation of those five Rahans exhibited to the world the splendid and wonderful sight of six Rahandas assembled in the same place.
At that time, whilst Buddha was in the Migadawon grove, the memorable conversion of a young layman took place. There was in the country of Baranathee the son of a rich man, named Ratha. He was of very gentle and amiable disposition. His father had built for him three palaces for each season of the year. A crowd of young damsels, skilful in the art of playing on all sorts of musical instruments, attended him in each of those palaces. Ratha spent his time in the midst of pleasure and amusements. On a certain day, while surrounded with female dancers and singers, he fell into a deep sleep. The musicians, following his example, laid aside their instruments, and fell asleep too. The lamps, filled with oil, continued to pour a flood of light throughout the apartments. Awaking sooner than usual, Ratha saw the musicians all asleep round him in various and unseemly situations. Some slept with wide-opened mouths, some had dishevelled hair, some were snoring aloud, some had their instruments lying on themselves, and others by their sides. The whole exhibited a vast scene of the greatest confusion and disorder. Sitting on his couch in a cross-legged position, the young man silently gazed with amazement and disgust over the unseemly spectacle displayed before him; then he said to himself, "The nature and condition of the body constitute indeed a truly heavy burden; that coarser part of our being affords a great deal of trouble and affliction." Whereupon he instantly arose from his couch, put on his gilt slippers, and came down to the door of his apartment. The Nats, who kept a vigilant watch, lest any one should oppose him in the execution of his holy purpose, kept open the door of the house, as well as the gate of the city. Ratha, free from all impediments, directed his steps towards the solitude of Migadawon. At that time Buddha, who had left his sleeping place at a very early hour, was walking in front of the house. He saw at a distance a young man coming in the direction he was in. He instantly stopped his pacing, and going into his own apartment, sat as usual on his seat, awaiting the arrival of the young stranger, who soon made his appearance and stated modestly the object of his visit. Buddha said to him, "O Ratha! the law of Neibban is the only true one: alone it is never attended with misery and affliction. O Ratha! come nearer to me; remain in this place; to you I will make known the most perfect and valuable law." On hearing these kind and inviting expressions, Ratha felt his heart overflow with the purest joy. He instantly put off his slippers, drew nearer to Buddha, bowed down three times before him, withdrew then to a becoming distance, and remained in a respectful attitude. Buddha began to preach the law, unfolding successively the various merits obtained by alms-giving, by a strict performance of all duties and practices of the law, and, above all, by renouncing the pleasures of this world. During all the while the heart of the young visitor expanded in a wonderful manner: he felt the ties that hitherto had bound him as it were to the world gradually relaxing and giving way before the unresisting influence of Buddha's words. The good dispositions of the young hearer were soon remarked by Buddha, who went on explaining all that related to the miseries attending existence, the passions tyrannising over the soul, the means wherewith to become exempt from those passions, and the great ways leading to perfection. After having listened to that series of instructions, Ratha, like a white cloth that easily retains the impressions of various colours printed upon it, felt himself freed from all passions, and reached at once the state of Thautapati.
Ratha's mother, not meeting her son early, went up as usual to his apartment, and, to her great surprise, found him gone; moreover she observed unmistakable marks of his sudden and unexpected departure. She ran forthwith to her husband, and announced to him the sad tidings. On hearing of such an unlooked-for event, the father sent messengers in the direction of the four points of the compass, with positive orders to search incessantly after his son, and leave no means of inquiry untried. As to himself he resolved to go to the solitude of Migadawon, in the hope of finding out some track of his son's escape. He had scarcely travelled a limited distance, when he observed on the ground the marks of his son's footsteps. He followed them up, and soon came in sight of Buddha's resting-place. Ratha was at the time listening with deepest attention to all the words of his great teacher. By the power of Buddha he remained hidden from the eyes of his father, who came up, and, having paid his respects to Gaudama, eagerly asked him if he had not seen his son. Gaudama bade him sit down and rest after the fatigue of his journey. Meanwhile he assured him that he would soon see his son. Rejoiced at such an assurance, Ratha's father complied with the invitation he had received. Buddha announced his law to this distinguished hearer, and soon led him to the perfection of Thautapati. Filled with joy and gratitude, the new convert exclaimed, "O illustrious Phra, your doctrine is a most excellent one; when you preach it, you do like him who replaces on its basis an upset cup; like him, too, who brings to light precious things, which had hitherto remained in darkness; like him who points out the right way to those that have lost it; who kindles a brilliant light in the middle of darkness; who opens the mind's eyes that they might see the pure truth. Henceforth I adhere to you and to your holy law; please to reckon me as one of your disciples and supporters." This was the first layman that became a disciple of Gaudama, in the capacity of Upasaka.[4]
Whilst Buddha was busily engaged in imparting instruction to Ratha's father, the young man had entered into a deep and solemn meditation over some of the highest maxims he had heard from his great teacher. He was calmly surveying, as it were, all the things of this world; the more he progressed in that great work, the more he felt there was in himself no affection whatever for anything. He had not yet become a Rahan, nor put on the Rahan's dress. Phra, who attentively watched all the movements of his pupil's mind, concluded from his present dispositions that there could be no fear of his ever returning into the world of passions. He suddenly caused by his mighty power the son to become visible to his father's eyes. The father, perceiving on a sudden his son sitting close by him, said, "Beloved son, your mother is now bathed in tears, and almost sinking under the weight of affliction caused by your sudden departure; come now to her, and by your presence restore her to life, and infuse into her desolated soul some consolation." Ratha, calm and unmoved, made no reply, but cast a look at his master. Buddha, addressing Ratha's father, said to him, "What will you have to state in reply to what I am about to tell you? Your son knows what you know; he sees what you see; his heart is entirely disentangled from all attachment to worldly objects; passions are dead in him. Who will now ever presume to say that he ought to subject himself again to them and bend his neck under their