It
must be a beautiful and happy place; and I wish to know all about it."
"Yes, it is a beautiful place," was the answer. "In it there are
numberless trees and flowers and rivers and waterfalls, and other
things to make the heart glad."
"Then to-morrow I will go out and see some of those things," he said.
His parents and friends begged him not to go. They told him that there
were beautiful things at home--why go away to see other things less
beautiful? But when they saw that his mind was set on going, they said
no more.
The next morning, Gautama sat in his carriage and rode out from the
palace into one of the streets of the city. He looked with wonder at
the houses on either side, and at the faces of the children who stood
in the doorways as he passed. At first he did not see anything that
disturbed him; for word had gone before him to remove from sight
everything that might be displeasing or painful.
Soon the carriage turned into another street--a street less carefully
guarded. Here there were no children at the doors. But suddenly, at
a narrow place, they met a very old man, hobbling slowly along over
the stony way.
"Who is that man?" asked Gautama, "and why is his face so pinched and
his hair so white? Why do his legs tremble under him as he walks,
leaning upon a stick? He seems weak, and his eyes are dull.
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