"How beautiful!" I said in spite of myself, as she pointed to the
image. "In this utter solitude it seems the very spirit of the
place."
"He was. He is," said Vanna.
"Explain to me. I don't understand. I know so little of him. What
is the subject?"
She hesitated; then chose her words as if for a beginner;- "It is
the Blessed One preaching to the Tree-Spirits. See how eagerly
they lean from the boughs to listen. This other relief represents
him in the state of mystic vision. Here he is drowned in peace.
See how it overflows from the closed eyes; the closed lips. The
air is filled with his quiet."
"What is he dreaming?"
"Not dreaming - seeing. Peace. He sits at the point where time
and infinity meet. To attain that vision was the aim of the monks
who lived here."
"Did they attain?" I found myself speaking as if she could
certainly answer.
"A few. There was one, Vasettha, the Brahman, a young man who had
renounced all his possessions and riches, and seated here before
this image of the Blessed One, he fell often into the mystic
state. He had a strange vision at one time of the future of
India, which will surely be fulfilled.
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