The Life of Buddha by Asvaghosha is a poetical romance of nearly ten thousand lines.  It relates the miraculous conception of the Indian sage, by the descent of a spirit on his mother, Maya,—­a woman of great purity of mind.  The child was called Siddartha, or “the perfection of all things.”  His father ruled a considerable territory, and was careful to conceal from the boy, as he grew up, all knowledge of the wickedness and misery of the world.  He was therefore carefully educated within the walls of the palace, and surrounded with every luxury, but not allowed even to walk or drive in the royal gardens for fear he might see misery and sorrow.  A beautiful girl was given to him in marriage, full of dignity and grace, with whom he lived in supreme happiness.

At length, as his mind developed and his curiosity increased to see and know things and people beyond the narrow circle to which he was confined, he obtained permission to see the gardens which surrounded the palace.  His father took care to remove everything in his way which could suggest misery and sorrow; but a deva, or angel, assumed the form of an aged man, and stood beside his path, apparently struggling for life, weak and oppressed.  This was a new sight to the prince, who inquired of his charioteer what kind of a man it was.  Forced to reply, the charioteer told him that this infirm old man had once been young, sportive, beautiful, and full of every enjoyment.

On hearing this, the prince sank into profound meditation, and returned to the palace sad and reflective; for he had learned that the common lot of man is sad,—­that no matter how beautiful, strong, and sportive a boy is, the time will come, in the course of Nature, when this boy will be wrinkled, infirm, and helpless.  He became so miserable and dejected on this discovery that his father, to divert his mind, arranged other excursions for him; but on each occasion a deva contrived to appear before him in the form of some disease or misery.  At last he saw a dead man carried to his grave, which still more deeply agitated him, for he had not known that this calamity was the common lot of all men.  The same painful impression was made on him by the death of animals, and by the hard labors and privations of poor people.  The more he saw of life as it was, the more he was overcome by the sight of sorrow and hardship on every side.  He became aware that youth, vigor, and strength of life in the end fulfilled the law of ultimate destruction.  While meditating on this sad reality beneath a flowering Jambu tree, where he was seated in the profoundest contemplation, a deva, transformed into a religious ascetic, came to him and said, “I am a Shaman.  Depressed and sad at the thought of age, disease, and death, I have left my home to seek some way of rescue; yet everywhere I find these evils,—­all things hasten to decay.  Therefore I seek that happiness which is only to be found in that which never perishes, that never knew a beginning, that looks with equal mind on enemy and friend, that heeds not wealth nor beauty,—­the happiness to be found in solitude, in some dell free from molestation, all thought about the world destroyed.”