Answers for Milinda

Hendryk

Banned
Faeelin said:
Thanks; so it'd also be Wudi instead of Wu-Ti, then.
Exactly.

Faeelin said:
“I speak,” replied Andromachus, “the truth.” He bowed before the Emperor. “ I honor you as the lord of the all of China. But I do not honor you as the Lord of all under Heaven,” he said.
Wow, Andromachus seems not to be lacking in nerve. A less open-minded emperor than Wudi would have taken offence at such bold language. I suppose that, when he said "China", his actual words were 中國, "Middle Kingdom". At the time of the Han dynasty the phrase was used in a strictly geographical sense to designate the Chinese heartland of the Yellow River basin. But, as Andromachus is aware, the emperor is in theory the ruler of the entire world, 天下, "all under Heaven".

Faeelin said:
The Sericans possess a belief system which in many ways is similar to Stoicism. They believe in the theory of Tao, or the way.
In pinyin Tao is transliterated as Dao. A Stoic would indeed notice interesting similarities with his own philosophy, just as he would with Buddhism. In OTL, the Chan school of Buddhism (better known in the West by its Japanese name, Zen) was born of a reinterpretation of Buddhist teachings in the light of philosophical Taoism.

Faeelin said:
These views have most recently been espoused by a philosopher of the Sericans known as Huang-lao, the proper ruler should seek to avoid interfering in the lives of his people as much as possible, and if he acts in accordance with nature, he will be a good ruler.
Andromachus, at this early point, doesn't yet seem familiar with certain subtleties of Taoism. Huang-lao 黄老 is a composite name referring to Huangdi, the Yellow Emperor, on the one hand, and to Laozi, the Old Master, on the other. Huangdi was initially worshipped by one school of Taoism, while another focused more specifically on the philosophical teachings of Laozi. But once the Han dynasty made Rujiao 儒教, the School of the Learned Ones (i.e. Confucianism) the official state ideology, the Huang and Lao schools of Taoism grew closer, until eventually Huangdi and Laozi were seen as two human incarnations of the same divine being.
 

Faeelin

Banned
Hendryk said:
Wow, Andromachus seems not to be lacking in nerve. A less open-minded emperor than Wudi would have taken offence at such bold language. I suppose that, when he said "China", his actual words were 中國, "Middle Kingdom". At the time of the Han dynasty the phrase was used in a strictly geographical sense to designate the Chinese heartland of the Yellow River basin. But, as Andromachus is aware, the emperor is in theory the ruler of the entire world, 天下, "all under Heaven".

Yep; China, at this point, refers to the "lands between the Seas". But he does have guts; however, keep in mind that:

1) He's a Hellene, if not a Greek, and no Hellen is going to let some foreigner call him their vassal.

2) You don't choose cowards to lead embassies across Central Asia.

In pinyin Tao is transliterated as Dao. A Stoic would indeed notice interesting similarities with his own philosophy, just as he would with Buddhism. In OTL, the Chan school of Buddhism (better known in the West by its Japanese name, Zen) was born of a reinterpretation of Buddhist teachings in the light of philosophical Taoism.

It's interesitng ot me that the Daoists took some of the similar beliefs to stoics (chi-pneuma, dao-natural law) and arrived at the exact opposite conclusions. They sought an ideal world where people would seclude themselves; the Stoics thought it was quite okay to be involved in officialdom.

I wonder if that might influence Daoism, and how it's viewed amongst the Han. The Confucian Schools were only set up, after all, 4 years before their arrival.


Andromachus, at this early point, doesn't yet seem familiar with certain subtleties of Taoism. Huang-lao 黄老 is a composite name referring to Huangdi, the Yellow Emperor, on the one hand, and to Laozi, the Old Master, on the other. Huangdi was initially worshipped by one school of Taoism, while another focused more specifically on the philosophical teachings of Laozi. But once the Han dynasty made Rujiao 儒教, the School of the Learned Ones (i.e. Confucianism) the official state ideology, the Huang and Lao schools of Taoism grew closer, until eventually Huangdi and Laozi were seen as two human incarnations of the same divine being.

Correct; Andromachus is really confused, as he can't really read the Taoist texts, as of yet. I'm actually debating subsantially editting the post to discuss the Han religious beliefs, moreso than anything else.
 

Hendryk

Banned
Faeelin said:
He's a Hellene, if not a Greek, and no Hellen is going to let some foreigner call him their vassal.
Figures.

Faeelin said:
It's interesitng ot me that the Daoists took some of the similar beliefs to stoics (chi-pneuma, dao-natural law) and arrived at the exact opposite conclusions. They sought an ideal world where people would seclude themselves; the Stoics thought it was quite okay to be involved in officialdom.
Well, it's complicated. Part of the reason for the disengagement advocated by Taoism is that, throughout Chinese history, many a Taoist was previously a dutiful Confucian whose professional ambitions were thwarted for one reason or another, and who seeked to reconcile himself spiritually with a more contemplative lifestyle. Laozi himself is ambiguous on the issue; while he advocates a fairly individualistic search for spiritual fulfilment that disregards social dictates (in clear opposition to the Confucian ethos), many chapters of his book deal with politics and the art of government. One leading founder of Taoism who unambiguously calls for non-involvement in public affairs is Zhuangzi. A famous passage of his seminal work, which is sometimes referred to as the True classic of the Southern Flower Country but is more widely known simply as the Zhuangzi, goes:

Zhuangzi was fishing on the Pu River when the Prince of Chu sent two high officials to see him and said, "Our Prince desires to burden you with the administration of the Chu State." Zhuangzi went on fishing without turning his head and said, "I have heard that in Chu there is a sacred tortoise which died when it was three thousand years old. The prince keeps this tortoise carefully enclosed in a chest in his ancestral temple. Now would this tortoise rather be dead and have its remains venerated, or would it rather be alive and wagging its tail in the mud?"

Faeelin said:
I'm actually debating subsantially editting the post to discuss the Han religious beliefs, moreso than anything else.
I'm all for detailed discussions of Han philosophy and religion. After all it's part and parcel of your TL. By the look of things, Buddhism is going to begin influencing Chinese culture three centuries earlier than in OTL, leading to fascinating debates and cross-cultural exchanges.
 

Faeelin

Banned
Sure; but the thing is, there's a big difference between philosophical Taoism, and religious Taoism, and to understand philosophical Taoism, you really need to read the works that discuss it. How likely is it that the first Greeks would be able to read Chinese well enough to understand it?

OTOH, quite a few learned hieroglyphics...
 

Faeelin

Banned
But the religion of the common people is rather different. The Sericans place great value on divination, often using lines and figures to attempt to determine the future. One particularly interesting method uses what the Sericans call a “south-controlling spoon” The diviner uses a board consisting of two plates. There is a lower square, which symbolizes the earth, and a square on top of it, which represents the heavens. The upper plate has a picture of the constellation the Sericans call the Great Bear at its center, and has twenty-four points along it. The Serican priests can therefore read the heaven from it. This needle, which is called the “South Pointing Needle”, is also used in another divination. The needle is placed within a bowl, and the priests read the omens of the gods by looking at the shadow’s needle. The needle often points in a north-south direct, and I was curious as to how this was done.

I learned from a priest that the Sericans take a lodestone from the mountains in their western lands, and rub it against a piece of iron. This gives the needle the ability to always point to the north and south; an impressive feat, and I do not wonder if it would soon be used at Delphi, with sacrifices and games.

The Serican religion is as complex, if not moreso, than the beliefs of the Greeks or Hindoi. They believe in a supreme god, whom they call T’ien. T’ien, I am told, is not a god like Zeus, in the body of man, but a formless, all powerful entity. He has a host of lesser gods, predominant among two are the other ti. Each of the ti represents an element, and is assigned its own color. There are a host of lesser gods of mountains, rivers, to the sun, the moon, the stars and the planets, and to other deities. The people also make sacrifices to their emperors, and it is not uncommon for the shrine of a past emperor to be staffed by priests, cooks, and musicians, in order to pleasure the emperor in the afterlife.


“But the works of Kong Fuzi are very important for the Sericans. He was a philosopher, who wrote about the relationship between government and the individual. The followers of Kon Fuzi argue that if a shared and ordered way of life is to be practiced, the individual is obligated to obey the government. The Kong Fuzians hold that there are four ethical attributes: compassion, wisdom, propriety, and a duty to observe the religious rights.

These are comment enough traits, of course, and what rational person would argue that it is not important to be wise? But the Kong Fuzians hold that virtue arrives from achieving harmony with others, not from the individual’s own wisdom. To them, it is a person’s action towards others that matters, not the development of one’s self.

Kong Fuzians spend a great deal of time discussing politics; and while they proclaim their loyalty to their superiors and betters in society, they are also quite radical. Many of them have argued that if a ruler is unjust, he may overthrown, because he is not fulfilling his duties to his inferiors.

On the whole, they do not concern themselves with metaphysics, which cannot help but strike me as odd. They are more interested in examining how society is best ordered, rather than why it is best ordered in such a manner. This is, to me, a critical flaw; for how can you teach people to be moral if you do not know why they should be?- Andromachus, The Serican Discources
 

Hendryk

Banned
Faeelin said:
The Serican religion is as complex, if not moreso, than the beliefs of the Greeks or Hindoi. They believe in a supreme god, whom they call T’ien. T’ien, I am told, is not a god like Zeus, in the body of man, but a formless, all powerful entity.
天 transliterates as Tian in pinyin. I'm not sure whether an Greco-Bactrian would understand the concept as "supreme god", even a formless one. He might, but with his exposure to Stoicism, Buddhism and Brahmanist Hinduism, it may be more likely that he would understand it more accurately as the immanent, impersonal principle it is, especially if he has been introduced to the works of Kongzi.

Faeelin said:
On the whole, they do not concern themselves with metaphysics, which cannot help but strike me as odd.
Nice touch. It is indeed probable that, coming as he does from India, Andromachus would be struck by the absence of metaphysical speculation in Chinese philosophy.

A general point about philosophy during the Han dynasty: it was, in the intellectual history of China, a time of stock-taking, as it were. Scholars of the Han dynasty busily gathered, examined and synthesized the philosophical heritage of the previous millennium of Chinese history, erecting out of it a stable system that would last until the third century CE, when it would be changed again by its encounter with Buddhism, and one last time in the 11th century with the reinterpretation of the Confucian canon by the likes of Zhu Xi. What I'm getting at is that, if one introduces Buddhism into the mix at this early stage, it will have far-reaching changes on Chinese culture.
A related and fundamental point follows. Anne Cheng, my former philosophy professor, wrote:

The gap that had appeared [before the Han dynasty] between the natural and human realms is closed down, morality being definitively integrated within the cosmic order. Correlative "anthropo-cosmological" thought thus celebrates the restored unity of Heaven and mankind that is a defining feature of Han thought and endows it with the power of a globalizing vision.
But this unity has been restored before man had a chance to think of himself as an exception in a morally neutral universe as Xunzi [a Confucian thinker] and Han Fei [a Legalist thinker] had done, or to develop logical speculations on the basis of the [Chinese] sophists or the latter-day followers of Mozi. In other terms, the unity of Heaven and mankind was achieved before Chinese thought, perhaps too hurried to support political unification with ideological harmonization, had the opportunity to engage a properly scientific process. If it is not our purpose to cast a value judgment, the fact remains that a defining feature of the correlative model is to leave no room to distanciation, i.e. "the discovery of how one discovers" that some consider the heart of the scientific revolution that took place in Europe circa 1600. In the correlative process, no room is made for the "meta" dimension: human intelligence and consciousness are in a complete immersion that does not enable them to perceive the universe as an object of knowledge.*
See what I'm getting at? With Buddhism injected into Chinese philosophy at this stage in its history, the missing ingredient for the ulterior development of scientific thought would be there. China would then have the potential to build upon its technological edge to actually take the quantum leap into the scientific age as early as a millennium before the Western world.

* Anne Cheng, Histoire de la Pensée Chinoise (my translation).
 

Faeelin

Banned
Hendryk said:
天 transliterates as Tian in pinyin. I'm not sure whether an Greco-Bactrian would understand the concept as "supreme god", even a formless one. He might, but with his exposure to Stoicism, Buddhism and Brahmanist Hinduism, it may be more likely that he would understand it more accurately as the immanent, impersonal principle it is, especially if he has been introduced to the works of Kongzi.

You're probably right.


Nice touch. It is indeed probable that, coming as he does from India, Andromachus would be struck by the absence of metaphysical speculation in Chinese philosophy.

I agree. I wonder what the Han would think of that problem. The later Han might dismiss the metaphysics as irrelevent.

A general point about philosophy during the Han dynasty: it was, in the intellectual history of China, a time of stock-taking, as it were. Scholars of the Han dynasty busily gathered, examined and synthesized the philosophical heritage of the previous millennium of Chinese history, erecting out of it a stable system that would last until the third century CE, when it would be changed again by its encounter with Buddhism, and one last time in the 11th century with the reinterpretation of the Confucian canon by the likes of Zhu Xi. What I'm getting at is that, if one introduces Buddhism into the mix at this early stage, it will have far-reaching changes on Chinese culture.
A related and fundamental point follows. Anne Cheng, my former philosophy professor, wrote:

Completely agree, although I'm still working out what the changes would be. More research is probably required, which is why the next post will return to Rome.


See what I'm getting at? With Buddhism injected into Chinese philosophy at this stage in its history, the missing ingredient for the ulterior development of scientific thought would be there. China would then have the potential to build upon its technological edge to actually take the quantum leap into the scientific age as early as a millennium before the Western world.

It's possible; more research is required on my part.

But I'm not sure that integrating "morality into the cosmic order", as she puts it, is necessarily a problem for science. Quite a few classical thinkers thought that we should live our lives according to the natural order, after all.

But I agree that there are strands that could be explored to develop a Han scientific revolution. I think I'll explore them, too.
 

Hendryk

Banned
Incidentally, since this is 120 BC, it might be interesting to have Andromachus meet Dong Zhongshu (179-104 BC), one of the early Han dynasty's most influential thinkers, and a defining influence in the philosophical synthesis that will form the backbone of Chinese thought for the rest of the Imperial era.
 

Faeelin

Banned
Hendryk said:
Incidentally, since this is 120 BC, it might be interesting to have Andromachus meet Dong Zhongshu (179-104 BC), one of the early Han dynasty's most influential thinkers, and a defining influence in the philosophical synthesis that will form the backbone of Chinese thought for the rest of the Imperial era.

Is the Wades Giles version of his name Tung Chung-Shu?
 

Faeelin

Banned
Hmm.

It occurs to me that one area where the Han would have a notable advantage, in terms of protoscience, is in chemistry. Whereas the Greeks would hold up their noses at something as arrogant as chemistry, the Chinese had no problem playing with chemicals.
 

Faeelin

Banned
Carthage, 145 BC

Carthage had been destroyed. Or at least, thought Panaetius, the Romans were in the process of destroying it. The Roman legionaries had taken the walls, and had entered the city. Flames rose from the temple to Baal as the Romans slaughtered the priests, and although he could not see it, Panaetius imagined the tears from the priestesses to Astarte as the Romans had their way with them. A people was dying here, Panaetius knew, and the tragic thing was that he was a friend of the man who was slaying them.

Only the citadel held out, and that would soon fall. Hasdrubal’s wife had thrown herself and her children into the burning streets, rather than become a slave in a Roman household. Panaetius imagined that the smoke could be seen as far away as Sicily, and perhaps Alexandria. He wondered what Seleucus thought of it.

Panaetius looked over at his friend Scipio, the Roman consul who commanded their legions in Carthage. Panaetius noticed he was weeping, but refrained from saying anything. Perhaps unconsciously, Scipio quoted Homer.

“The day shall be when holy Troy shall fall
And Priam, lord of spears, and Priam's folk."

The men remained silent as they watched Carthage burn. After a long while, Scipio turned to the other Greek that was with them, Polybius, and said, “This is a great thing, Polybius. But I fear that someday some one will give an order to burn my city.”

Panaetius watched the flames in silence. The survivors of Carthage would be enslaved or slaughtered, he knew. They would be sold across the Mediterranean, and they would be finished as a people. And Scipio feared that his city would suffer the same fate. The Romans hated the Carthaginians with a passion for the damage Hannibal had done to them; how could they be so blind as to ignore the damage they caused?

A different man than Panaetius would have lectured Scipio on his moral flaws. A different man would have told Scipio why Roman desire would lead to suffering for its people, just as Carthaginian greed had led the city to this fate. But Panaetius was not that man. Together, the men stood there, and watched a city burn.

Corinth, 143 BC

It was several years later, and Scipio was now in another land, with another city burning. The Romans were gutting Corinth, stripping it of its greatest treasures and monuments. They were being carted back to Rome, to be auctioned off by the crateload, to adorn the villa of a Roman noble.

“You are,” observed Polybius, “making a habit of this.”

Scipio looked at the slaves who walked past, and shrugged. “If they had not revolted, they would not be treated like this.”

“Perhaps,” said Polybius. Polybius had been Scipio’s tutor when he was younger, and was still a good friend of his. But Polybius was also a Greek historian, and he had studied peoples across the world. “But while Rome was subduing rebels here in Greece, Seleucid took Alexandria. Every time you are occupied by a rebellion, it seems, Seleucus gains ground. How many more rebellions will it be before he gains Rome?”

Panaetius smiled. “You ask the wrong question, Polybius. The far better question is this: If the Romans are causing suffering to others, will it not inevitably return to them?

Scipio snorted as another group of slaves were led past them. “Why can Greeks never put anything simply?” he demanded.

“If we could put things in simple terms,” said Panaetius, “what use would there be for philosophers?”

Scipio grunted. “Perhaps you could put my accomplishments in simple terms for my enemies in Rome.”

Polybius nodded. “I could, but would they listen? You know well why they oppose you.”

Scipio sighed. “We’ve been over this before, Polybius.” He smirked. “When you write your history, be sure to explain why I sought to become a consul before I was old enough, and why I ran again.”

Panaetius kicked a piece of rubble in front of him. “You can not be surprised that there are many who are jealous of you. How many men your age have conquered Greece and Africa, and have been consul twice?”

Scipio snorted. “A good point. Will you call me the reincarnation of Alexander now? Or do you believe he was wise enough to not have been reborn, as you claim to be the fate that awaits us all? ”

Panaetius started to speak, but quickly paused. “Hmm,” he said. “I suspect that Alexander would be reincarnated. He was a great leader and warrior, but he squandered it all, and died of drinking and Oriental decadence. Perhaps,” said Panaetius, “his soul entered the body of a Roman, to make up for the misdeeds of his prior life.”

“After all,” continued Panaetius, “if improper living in a current life causes pneuma to degrade in such a manner that it may enter an inferior vessel, it should not surprise me if his soul had entered the body of a Roman.”

Scipio blinked, and after a moment, laughed. “Fair enough,” he said. “Although it is remarkable that an inferior people, such as the Romans, could manage to defeat the Greeks quite handily.” Laughing, he walked towards his tent, to attend to the task of administering Greece.

Rome, 142 BC

Scipio laughed and lifted a cup of wine. “I’ve done it, by the gods!” he exclaimed.

Panaetius smiled. “Congratulations,” he said. “I know that few your age are censors, but I am not surprised.”

“Oh really?” asked Scipio. “Appius was. You should’ve seen his face in the Senate when he found out that I’d beaten him.”

Panaetius sipped his wine, savoring the flavor of the Cypriot. “Ah, but he lacks the charisma that you have. I’ve seen you, you know, in the forum. You mingle with citizens high and low, firing the passions of everyone around you.” Panaetius paused to take a fig. “But now that you have won, what will you do?”

Scipio put the wine down for a second. “Truthfully,” he said, “I do not know.” Scipio looked for a moment like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. “I want to bring peace and justice to the people. I want to ensure that Rome does not anger the gods and provoke their wrath.”

Panaetius looked at Scipio. “I think you’ve been drinking too much.”

Scipio slammed his cup down. “Have I?” he asked. “I see the rich driving good honest Romans into poverty, taking over their farms. I see Eastern cults in Rome, and children of Roman citizens dancing and singing.” Panaetius cleared his throats at Scipio’s first comment, but Scipio continued. “And I look at these things, and I look to the east, and I fear for the future of my city.” Scipio looked at Panaetius. “What should I do?”

Panaetius looked at Scipio. “Are you serious?” he asked. When Scipio nodded, Panaetius sighed. “I have been your friend for years, and I have taught you much about the proper way to live.” Panaetius smiled. “When you are again sober, perhaps I will teach you how to how to live your life by following the natural order, and how to walk on the eightfold path.”

Scipio laughed. “Did you not hear me mention the cults?”

“Wait a minute!” protested Panaetius. “It’s not like we sacrifice babies like the followers of Baal, or engage in orgies like the Bacchalians, or mutilate ourselves like the Jews.”

“I don’t know about that,” replied Scipio. “Some of the things I’ve heard about the Hindoi…” he accidentally knocked over a wine cup. “They say that they write whole books on how to have sex. How could such a people have any true wisdom?” Scipio thought for a moment. “I take that back, actually. Clearly a wise race.”

Panaetius snorted, and staggered to his feet. “I must be returning home,” he said, “lest I collapse on your floor.”

Scipio attempted to get up as well and failed. “I thought you were supposed to live a life of moderation,” said Scipio.

“Oh, I do,” replied Panaetius. “Moderation in all things, including occasional bouts of drinking excessively.”
 

Faeelin

Banned
Okay, before we continue discussing Scipio's journey on the path to becoming a sage....

Northern Italy, 130 BC

Panaetius had remained in constant contact with Sophocles, who continued to preach in Rhodes. Apparently Sophocles had sent out a series of converts to spread the word of the Buddha across the Middle Sea, from Massalia to Ephesus, and that had included a group to visit Cisalpine Gaul. [1]

The Greek he’d chosen to establish a temple in Cremona was known as Cleon of Seleucia, who had evidently been some sort of craftsman in the city.

The journey to the temple had been leisurely enough, but Panaetius had trouble finding the site of the temple. When he visited Cremona, he eventually discovered that the temple, surprisingly, was outside the city, and that the Buddhists there only came to the city to preach. Apparently the city’s council had been strongly opposed to them building a temple in the town, out of fear of Greek customs. Panaetius had attempted to point out that the Buddhists were not in fact Greek, but from further east, which only worsened the magistrate’s view of them. He had eventually discovered, however, that they did in fact buy land along the Padus [3], and had built a temple there.

When Panaetius rode up to the lands the Buddhists had bought, he grunted. He saw a couple of buildings, including one the Rod of Asclepius. The temple itself was fairly busy, with, Panaetius noticed, quite a few women. “Excuse me,” he called out, “but is this the temple of the Followers of the Enlightened One?”

“No,” said one of the women, who looked old enough to have seen Hannibal, “this is the temple of Baal. We’re here for the sacrifices and orgies.” At Panaetius’s look, the woman snapped. “Of course it’s the Temple of the Buddha! Why else would we have that?”

The woman gestured with her thumb at a painting of a man in saffron robes over the door to another of the buildings. “Oh,” said Panaetius sheepishly. “My thanks.” He pointed at a strange contraption in the Padus. “What’s that?”

The woman gave Panaetius an odd look. “You’re not from around these parts, are you? It’s a waterwheel. The priest says it’s a symbol of the wheel of dharma. I use it to grind my flour.” With that, the woman walked off, leaving Panaetius sitting on his horse and feeling more confused than ever.

Panaetius walked inside the temple, and beheld the scenes from the life of the Buddha painted on the walls. His gaze sharpened when he saw one of the scenes, which portrayed Buddha on the night before his enlightenment. He was being attacked by the Hades, but stood firm beneath an olive tree while Heracles fought to protect him.

Panaetius didn’t even know where to begin pointing out what was wrong with that, but his thoughts were interrupted.

“May the blessings of the three jewels be upon you,” said a voice from behind Panaetius. Panaetius turned around to see a man with a shaved head and a yellow robe. “Welcome to the Sangha of Cremona. I am Aniketos of Bactra.”

Panaetius bowed. “Greetings,” he said. “I am Panaetius of Rhodes.” He waited for the monk to recognize him.

However, the monk did not. “Of course,” he said, smiling genially. “You are a merchant who is passing through, and sought to hear of the Buddha?”

Panaetius blinked. “No,” he said. “I am a friend of Sophocles. I hope you’ve heard of him at least.”

“Oh!” replied the monk. “Of course. Come with me, and I will fetch Cleon.”

They walked inside the temple and into a room, where they found Cleon standing writing a letter. “Greetings to you,” he said absentmindedly.

Aniketos cleared his throat. “Cleon, we have a guest. A friend of Sophocles has journeyed here to see us, from Rome.”

Cleon quickly put the parchment down. “Why didn’t you say so? Come, sit,” he gestured to Panaetius. “But you must be tired,” he said. “Aniketos, please bring our guest a drink.”

Aniketos returned with two cups of watered wine. “Technically, as monks we should not consume alcohol,” said Cleon, “but it was decided that an exception should be made for monks who could find nothing else to drink. Furthermore,” said Cleon, “the Buddha told his followers to eat what was offered to them; why should the same not apply to drinks [4]”.

“Ah,” said Panaetius. He found that a bit hard to believe. “And here I thought it had to do with a love of wine,” he muttered under his breath.

“What was that?” asked Cleon.

“I was just wondering what was that contraption I saw outside,” said Panaetius. “Scooping up the water.”

“Oh,” replied Cleon, “that’s just a water wheel. I’m an engineer, you know, so I’ve seen things like them in the east. But I thought it’d be a good idea to build one here for a couple of reasons. First,” he said, “I thought it was a good illustration of the wheel of dharma.”

Panaetius raised an eyebrow. “Err, why?”

“Because,” said Cleon, “what happens in the wheel of dharma? The soul is continuously reborn and goes from one body to another. Yet many asked me where the new souls came from, and the wheel helps explain it. Where does the water continuously come from? The river? Where does it go? To the sea. Yet from the sea it returns to the river by rain, does it not? So in the same way the soul returns to a body.”

“Furthermore,” continued Cleon, “the wheel itself is of great importance. The circular shape represents the rounds of existence and transmigration, and the hub at the center represents the realization of nirvana. The eight spokes of the wheel represent the Noble Eightfold Path, which must be followed to lead one to nirvana, and the sharp edges cut through ignorance.”

”It is,” said Cleon quite smugly, “quite eloquent, is it not?”

“There’s another reason, though,” said Panaetius. “What was it?”

Cleon looked down in his cup for a moment. “Well, you see, since we were expelled from Cremona we needed something to encourage people to come here. I was an engineer before I learned the way of the dharma, you know,” said Cleon. “It occurred to me that we could use one of these things, and it would cost less than a slave driven mill because we don’t have to feed the slaves. So we use the profits from that to pay for the supplies of the temple, and the hospital we run.”

There was an awkward silence. At last, Panaetius said, “I, ah, see. I take it one of you runs the hospital?”

“Oh yes,” replied Cleon, who was anxious to change the subject. “Aniketos even knews a few Hindoi treatments, having learned his trade in the east. It’s gathered him quite the following, although several of the physicians in Cremona aren’t happy with him.”

Panaetius snorted. He’d had enough experience with physicians to be unsurprised by the news. “Bah,” he said. “Too many of them care about their gold instead of their patients. Let them complain.”

Cleon smiled. “Exactly. Come, let me take you for a tour around the temple.”

They walked into the temple, and walked in front of an image of the Buddha. “Wait a minute,” said Panaetius. “Why do you give offerings to him?” As a Greek, of course, Panaetius had no problem with the idea of mortals becoming gods, but it still struck him as curious. “As the Buddha, he has no need of material goods after achieving enlightenment.

“True enough,” replied Cleon. “But the offerings are used by the temple, the same as offerings to a god. But they earn karma, because they are acts of compassion and proper conduct.”

The tour of the small temple continued, and Panaetius continued discussing the teachings of the Enlightened One with Cleon. Before he left the next day, Panaetius asked Cleon a simple question.

“Tell me again, if you would, about the empty circle.”

“Of course,” said Cleon. “It is the representation of nirvana, and the nothingness. When you understand how the empty circle may represent nothing, you will begin to understand nirvana.”






[1] I'm still debating just how far the Buddhists have spread by this point. Judging by the spread of Christianity, I should think by 120 BC they could plausibly have some converts in most major ports in the Mediterranean.

Do people think that'd be enough to survive if something cut off the land route to India?

[2] The Stoic Buddhists have an… odd view of Bodisvhattas, often viewing them as men and women who are “prefect and truly wise”. They show compassion towards their fellow men by teaching them how to live a proper life, so that they may avoid the trap of reincarnation.

Five talents to whoever guesses who the first Bodisvhatta of the Stoic Buddhists is.

[3] The Po.

[4] Well, this is true for the Theravada Buddhists, anyway. The Mahayana were generally vegetarians.
 
Faeelin said:
You're closest, but about one person removed.

One person up means Socrates, one person down means Aristotle. The idea of Socrates as a bodhavistta sounds tempting...
 
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