THE JĀTAKA
OR
STORIES OF THE BUDDHA'S FORMER BIRTHS
No. 15.
KHARĀDIYA-JĀTAKA.
"For when a deer."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana about an unruly Brother. Tradition says that this Brother was unruly and would not heed admonition. Accordingly, the Master asked him, saying, "Is it true, as they say, that you are unruly and will not heed admonition?""It is true, Blessed One," was the reply.
"So too in bygone days," said the Master, "you were unruly and would not heed the admonition of the wise and good,--with the result that you were caught in a gin and met your death." And so saying, he told this story of the past.
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Once on a time when Brahmadatta was in Benares the
Bodhisatta was born a deer and dwelt in the forest at the head of a herd of
deer. His sister brought her son to him, saying, "Brother, this is your
nephew; teach him deer's ruses." And thus she placed her son under the
Bodhisatta's care. Said the latter to his nephew, "Come at such and such a
time and I will give you a lesson." But the nephew made no appearance at
the time appointed. And, as on that day, so on seven days did he skip his
lesson and fail to learn the ruses of deer; and at last, as he was roaming
about, he was caught in a gin. His mother came and said to the Bodhisatta,
"Brother, was not your nephew taught deer's ruses?"p. 47
"Take no thought for the unteachable rascal," said the Bodhisatta; [160] "your son failed to learn the ruses of deer." And so saying, having lost all desire to advise the scapegrace even in his deadly peril, he repeated this stanza:
For when a deer has twice four hoofs to
run
And branching antlers armed with countless tines,
And when by seven tricks he's saved himself,
I teach him then, Kharādiyā, no more.
But the hunter killed the self-willed deer that was
caught in the snare, and departed with its flesh.And branching antlers armed with countless tines,
And when by seven tricks he's saved himself,
I teach him then, Kharādiyā, no more.
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When the Master had ended this lesson in support of
what he had said as to the unruliness of the Brother in bygone days as well as
in the present, he shewed the connexion, and identified the Birth, by saying
"In those days this unruly Brother was the nephew-deer, Uppala-vaṇṇā 1 was the sister, and I myself the deer who gave the
admonition."[Note. In the gāthā I have translated not the meaningless kālāhi of Fausböll's text, nor the easy variant kālehi, which is substituted in the gloss, but kalāhi, the more difficult reading which occurs in some Sinhalese MSS, and which is read by Fausböll in the analogous story No. 16. This reading is also given by Dickson in J. R. A. S. Ceylon, 1884, p. 188, from the Jātaka Pela Sanne. If kālehi be read, the translation becomes, "I do not try to teach one who has played truant seven times." In the J. R. A. S. Ceylon, 1884, p. 125, Künte says, "I have little doubt that kalāhi is the original form of the popular sing-song, and kālehi a mistake for it, and that on this mistake the grammarian compiler has built up his silly little story about the deer who would not go to school."]
Footnotes
47:1 See the interesting Life of this therī in Mrs Bode's 'Women Leaders of the Buddhist Reformation' (J. R. A. S. 1893, pp. 540-552), where it is explained that Uppala-vaṇṇā "came by that name because she had a skin like the colour in the heart of the dark-blue lotus."No. 16.
TIPALLATTHA-MIGA-JĀTAKA.
"In all three postures."--This story was told by the Master while dwelling do the Badarika Monastery in Kosambī, about the Elder Rāhula whose heart was set on observing the rules of the Brotherhood.Once when the Master was dwelling in the Aggāḷava Temple hard by the town of Āḷavi, many female lay-disciples and Sisters used to flock thither to hear the Truth preached. The preaching was in the daytime, but as time
wore on, the women did not attend, and there were only Brethren and men disciples present. Then the preaching took place in the evening; and at the close the Elder Brethren retired each to his own chamber. But the younger ones with the lay-disciples lay down to rest in the Service-hall. When they fell asleep, loud was the snoring and snorting and gnashing of teeth as they lay. [161] After a short slumber some got up, and reported to the Blessed One the impropriety which they had witnessed. Said he, "If a Brother sleeps in the company of Novices, it is a Pācittiya offence (requiring confession and absolution)." And after delivering this precept he went away to Kosambī.
Thereon the Brethren said to the Reverend Rāhula, "Sir, the Blessed One has laid down this precept, and now you will please find quarters of your own." Now, before this, the Brethren, out of respect for the father and because of the anxious desire of the son to observe the rules of the Brotherhood, had welcomed the youth as if the place were his;--they had fitted up a little bed for him, and had given him a cloth to make a pillow with. But on the day of our story they would not even give him house-room, so fearful were they of transgressing. The excellent Rāhula went neither to the Buddha as being his father, nor to Sāriputta, Captain of the Faith, as being his preceptor, nor to the Great Moggallāna as being his teacher, nor to the Elder Ānanda as being his uncle; but betook himself to the Buddha's jakes and took up his abode there as though in a heavenly mansion. Now in a Buddha's jakes the door is always closely shut: the levelled floor is of perfumed earth; flowers and garlands are festooned round the walls; and all night long a lamp burns there. But it was not this splendour which prompted Rāhula to take up his residence here. Nay, it was simply because the Brethren had told him to find quarters for himself, and because he reverenced instruction and yearned to observe the rules of the Order. Indeed, from time to time the Brethren, to test him, when they saw him coming from quite a distance, used to throw down a hand-broom or a little dust-sweepings, and then ask who had thrown it down, after Rāhula had come in. "Well, Rāhula came that way," would be the remark, but never did the future Elder say he knew nothing about it. On the contrary, he used to remove the litter and humbly ask pardon of the Brother, nor go away till he was assured that he was pardoned;--so anxious was he to observe the rules. And it was solely this anxiety which made him take up his dwelling in the jakes.
Now, though day had not yet dawned, the Master halted at the door of the jakes and coughed 'Ahem.' 'Ahem,' responded the Reverend Rāhula. "Who is there?" said the Buddha. "It is I, Rāhula," was the reply; and out came the young man and bowed low. "Why have you been sleeping here, Rāhula?" "Because I had nowhere to go to. Up till now, sir, the Brethren have been very kind to me; but such is their present fear of erring [162] that they won't give me shelter any more. Consequently, I took up my abode here, because I thought it a spot where I should not come into contact with anybody else."
Then thought the Master to himself, "If they treat even Rāhula like this, what will they not do to other youths whom they admit to the Order?" And his heart was moved within him for the Truth. So, at an early hour he had the Brethren assembled, and questioned the Captain of the Faith thus, "I suppose you at all events, Sāriputta, know where Rāhula is now quartered? '
"No, sir, I do not."
"Sāriputta, Rāhula was living this day in the jakes. Sāriputta, if you treat Rāhula like this, what will not be your treatment of other youths whom you admit to the Order? Such treatment will not retain those who join us. In future, keep your Novices in your own quarters for a day or two, and only on the third day let them lodge out, taking care to acquaint yourself with their lodging." With this rider, the Master laid down the precept.
Gathering together in the Hall of Truth, the Brethren spoke of the goodness of Rāhula. "See, sirs, how anxious was Rāhula to observe the rules. When told to find his own lodging, he did not say, 'I am the son of the Buddha; what have you to do with quarters? You turn out!' No; not a single Brother did he oust, but quartered himself in the jakes."
As they were talking thus, the Master came to the Hall and took his seat on his throne of state, saying, "What is the subject of your talk, Brethren?" "Sir," was the reply, "we were talking of the anxiety of Rāhula to keep the rules, nothing else."
Then said the Master, "This anxiety Rāhula has shewn not only now, but also in the past, when he had been born an animal." And so saying, he told this story of the past.
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Once on a time a certain king of Magadha was
reigning in Rājagaha; and in those days the Bodhisatta, having been born a
stag, was living in the forest at the head of a herd of deer. Now his sister
brought her son to him, saying, "Brother, teach your nephew here the ruses
of deer." "Certainly," said the Bodhisatta; "go away now,
my boy, and come back at such and such a time to be taught." Punctually at
the time his uncle mentioned, the young stag was there and. received
instruction in the ruses of deer.One day as he was ranging the woods he was caught in a snare and uttered the plaintive cry of a captive. Away fled the herd and told the mother of her son's capture. She came to her brother and asked him whether his nephew had been taught the ruses of deer. "Fear not; [163] your son is not at fault," said the Bodhisatta. "He has learnt thoroughly deer's ruses, and will come back straightway to your great rejoicing." And so saying, he repeated this stanza:--
In all three postures--on his back or
sides
Your son is versed; he's trained to use eight hoofs 1,
And save at midnight never slakes his thirst;
As he lies couched on earth, he lifeless seems,
And only with his under-nostril breathes.
Six tricks 2 my nephew knows to cheat his foes.
[164] Thus did the Bodhisatta console his sister by
shewing her how thoroughly her son had mastered the ruses of deer. Meantime the
young stag on being caught in the snare did not struggle, but lay down at full
length 3 on his side, with his legs stretched out taut and rigid. He
pawed up the ground round his hoofs so as to shower the grass and earth about;
relieved nature; let his head fall; lolled out his tongue; beslavered his body
all over; swelled himself out by drawing in the wind; turned up his eyes;
breathed only with the lower nostril, holding his breath with the upper one;
and made himself generally so rigid and so stiff as to look like a corpse. Even
the blue-bottles swarmed round him; and here and there crows settled.Your son is versed; he's trained to use eight hoofs 1,
And save at midnight never slakes his thirst;
As he lies couched on earth, he lifeless seems,
And only with his under-nostril breathes.
Six tricks 2 my nephew knows to cheat his foes.
The hunter came up and smacked the stag on the belly with his hand, remarking, "He must have been caught early this morning; he's going bad already." So saying, the man loosed the stag from his bonds, saying to himself, "I'll cut him up here where he lies, and take the flesh home with me." But as the man guilelessly set to work to gather sticks and leaves (to make a fire with), the young stag rose to his feet, shook himself, stretched out his neck, and, like a little cloud scudding before a mighty wind, sped swiftly back to his mother.
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After repeating what he had said as to Rāhula's
having shewn no less anxiety in time past to keep rules than in the present,
the Master made the connexion and identified the Birth by saying, "Rāhula
was the young stag of those days, Uppala-vaṇṇā his mother, and I the stag his uncle."[Note. According to Feer (J. As. 1876, p. 516) this Jātaka is also called Sikhākāmā in the Bigandet MS. The substance of the Introductory Story occurs in the Vinaya, Vol. IV. page 16.]
Footnotes
49:1 This the commentator explains as having two hoofs on each foot, referring to the cloven hoof of the deer.49:2 I.e. the three mentioned in line 1, and the three mentioned in lines 2, 3, and 5, respectively.
49:3 See infra p. 62, l. 10.
No. 17.
MĀLUTA-JĀTAKA.
"In light or dark."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana about two Brethren who had joined the Brotherhood in their old age. Tradition says [165] that they were living in a forest-dwelling in the Kosala country, and that one was named the Elder Dark and the other the Elder Light. Now one day Light said to Dark, "Sir, at what time does what is called cold appear?" "It appears in the dark half of the month." And one day Dark said to Light, "Sir, at what time does what is called cold appear?" "It appears in the light half of the month."As the pair of them together could not solve the question, they went to the Master and with due salutation asked, saying, "Sir, at what time does what is called cold appear?"
After the Master had heard what they had to say, he said, "Brethren, in bygone days also, I answered for you this same question; but your previous existences have become confused in your minds 1." And so saying, he told this story of the past.
Once on a time at the foot of a certain mountain there were living together in one and the same cave two friends, a lion and a tiger. The Bodhisatta too was living at the foot of the same hill, as a hermit.
Now one day a dispute arose between the two friends about the cold. The tiger said it was cold in the dark half of the month, whilst the lion maintained that it was cold in the light half. As the two of them together could not settle the question, they put it to the Bodhisatta. He repeated this stanza
In light or dark half, whensoe’er the
wind
Doth blow, ’tis cold. For cold is caused by wind.
And, therefore, I decide you both are right.
Thus did the Bodhisatta make peace between those
friends.Doth blow, ’tis cold. For cold is caused by wind.
And, therefore, I decide you both are right.
Footnotes
50:1 The compound bhavasaṁkhepagatattā occurs here and in the next Jātaka, and also Vol. i. p. 463 and Vol. ii. p. 137. The meaning of the word appears to be that by re-birth events in previous existences have become jumbled up together so that no distinct memory remains. A Buddha has the power of remembering the whole of his past existences.
No. 18.
MATAKABHATTA-JĀTAKA.
"If folk but knew."--This
story was told by the Master while at Jetavana about Feasts for the Dead. For
at this time the folk were putting to death goats, sheep, and other animals,
and offering them up as what is called a Feast for the Dead, for the sake of
their departed kinsmen. Finding them thus engaged, the Brethren asked the
Master, saying, "Just now, sir, the folk are taking the lives of many
living creatures and offering them up as what is called a Feast for the Dead.
Can it be, sir, that there is any good in this?"
"No, Brethren"
replied the Master; "not even when life is taken with the object of
providing a Feast for the Dead, does any good arise therefrom. In bygone days
the wise, preaching the Truth from mid-air, and shewing the evil consequences
of the practice, made the whole continent renounce it. But now, when their
previous existences have become confused in their minds, the practice has
sprung up afresh." And, so saying, he told this story of the past.
Once on a time when
Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, a brahmin, Who was versed in the Three
Vedas and world-famed as a teacher, being minded to offer a Feast for the Dead,
had a goat fetched and said to his
pupils, "My sons, take
this goat down to the river and bathe it; then hang a garland round its neck,
give it a pottle of grain to eat, groom it a bit, and bring it back."
"Very good," said
they, and down to the river they took the goat, where they bathed and groomed
the creature and set it on the bank, The goat, becoming conscious of the deeds
of its past lives, was overjoyed at the thought that on this very day it would
be freed from all its misery, and laughed aloud like the smashing of a pot.
Then at the thought that the brahmin by slaying it would bear the misery which
it had borne, the goat felt a great compassion for the brahmin, and wept with a
loud voice. "Friend goat," said the young brahmins [167], "your
voice has been loud both in laughter and in weeping; what made you laugh and
what made you weep?"
"Ask me your question
before your master."
So with the goat they came to
their master and told him of the matter. After hearing their story, the master
asked the goat why it laughed and why it wept. Hereupon the animal, recalling
its past deeds by its power of remembering its former existences, spoke thus to
the brahmin:--"In times past, brahmin, I, like you, was a brahmin versed
in the mystic texts of the Vedas, and I, to offer a Feast for the Dead, killed
a goat for my offering. All through killing that single goat, I have had my
head cut off five hundred times all but one. This is my five hundredth and last
birth; and I laughed aloud when I thought that this very day I should be freed
from my misery. On the other hand, I wept when I thought how, whilst I, who for
killing a goat had been doomed to lose my head five hundred times, was to-day
being freed from my misery, you, as a penalty for killing me, would be doomed
to lose your head, like me, five hundred times. Thus it was out of compassion
for you that I wept." "Fear not, goat," said the brahmin;
"I will not kill you." "What is this you say, brahmin?"
said the goat. "Whether you kill me or not, I cannot escape death
to-day." "Fear not, goat; I will go about with you to guard
you." "Weak is your protection, brahmin, and strong is the force of
my evil-doing."
Setting the goat at liberty,
the brahmin said to his disciples, "Let us not allow anyone to kill this
goat;" and, accompanied by the young men, he followed the animal closely
about. The moment the goat was set free, it reached out its neck to browse on
the leaves of a bush growing near the top of a rock. And that very instant a
thunderbolt struck the rock, rending off a mass which hit the goat on the
outstretched neck and tore off its head. And people came crowding round.
[168] In those days the
Bodhisatta had been born a Tree-Fairy in that selfsame spot. By his
supernatural powers he now seated himself cross-legged in mid-air while all the
crowd looked on. Thinking to himself. 'If
these creatures only knew the
fruit of evil-doing, perhaps they would desist from killing,' in his sweet
voice he taught them the Truth in this stanza:--
If folk but knew
the penalty would be
Birth unto sorrow, living things would cease
From taking life. Stern is the slayer's doom.
Birth unto sorrow, living things would cease
From taking life. Stern is the slayer's doom.
Thus did the Great Being
preach the Truth, scaring his hearers with the fear of hell; and the people,
hearing him, were so terrified at the fear of hell that they left off taking
life. And the Bodhisatta after establishing the multitude in the Commandments
by preaching the Truth to them, passed away to fare according to his deserts.
The people, too, remained steadfast in the teaching of the Bodhisatta and spent
their lives in charity and other good works, so that in the end they thronged
the City of the Devas.
His lesson ended, the Master
shewed the connexion, and identified the Birth by saying, "In those days I
was the Tree-fairy."
No. 19.
ĀYĀCITABHATTA-JĀTAKA.
[169] "Take thought of life hereafter." This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana about the offering of a sacrifice under vow to gods. Tradition says that in those days folk when going a journey on business, used to slay living creatures and offer them as a sacrifice to gods, and set out on their way, after making this vow,--"If we come safely back with a profit, we will give you another sacrifice." And when they did come safely back with a profit, the Idea that this was all due to gods made them slay a number of living creatures and offer them up as a sacrifice to obtain a release from their vow.When the Brethren became aware of this, they asked the Blessed One, saying, "Can there be any good in this, sir?"
The Blessed One told this story of the past.
of creatures and betook himself to the tree to get released from his vow. But the Tree-Fairy, standing in the fork of its tree, repeated this stanza:--
Take thought of life hereafter when you
seek
'Release'; for this release is bondage strict.
Not thus the wise and good release themselves;
For this, the fool's release, in bondage ends.
Thenceforth, men refrained from such taking of
life, and by walking in righteousness thronged thereafter the city of the
Devas.'Release'; for this release is bondage strict.
Not thus the wise and good release themselves;
For this, the fool's release, in bondage ends.
[Note. Feer mentions a second title, Pāṇavadha-Jātaka (J. As. 1876, p. 516).]
Om Tat Sat
(Continued...)
(Continued...)
(My humble salutations to Sreeman Professor E B Cowell ji and
also Sreeman Robert Chalmers for the
collection)
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