THE JĀTAKA OR STORIES OF THE BUDDHA'S FORMER BIRTHS-20

THE JĀTAKA

OR

STORIES OF THE BUDDHA'S FORMER BIRTHS

No. 95.

MAHĀSUDASSANA-JĀTAKA.

"How transient."--This story was told by the Master as he lay on his death-bed, concerning Ānanda's words, "O Blessed One, suffer not your end to be in this sorry little town."
"When the Buddha was dwelling at Jetavana," thought the Master, "the Elder Sāriputta 1, who was born in Nāla village, died at Varaka in the month of Kattika, when the moon was at the full; and in the selfsame month, when the

moon was on the wane, the great Moggallāna died 1. My two chief disciples being dead, I too will pass away, in Kusinārā."--So thought the Blessed One; and coming in his alms-pilgrimage to Kusinārā, there upon the Northward bench between the twin Sāl-trees he lay down never to rise again. Then said the Elder Ānanda, "O Blessed One, suffer not your end to be in this sorry little town, this rough little town in the jungle, this little suburban town. Shall not Rājagaha or some other large city be the death-place of the Buddha?"
"Nay, Ānanda," said the Master; "call not this a sorry little town, a little town in the jungle, a little suburban town. In bygone days, in the days of Sudassana's universal monarchy, it was in this town that I had my dwelling. It was then a mighty city encompassed by jewelled walls [392] twelve leagues round." Therewithal, at the Elder's request, he told this story of the past and uttered the Mahā-Sudassana Sutta 2.

_____________________________

Then it was that Sudassana's queen Subhaddā marked how, after coming down from the Palace of Truth, her lord was lying hard by on his right side on the couch prepared for him in the Palm-grove 3 which was all of gold and jewels,--that couch from which he was not to rise again. And she said, "Eighty-four thousand cities, chief of which is the royal-city of Kusāvatī, own your sovereignty, sire. Set your heart on them."
"Say not so, my queen," said Sudassana; "rather exhort me, saying, 'Keep your heart set on this town, and yearn not after those others'."
"Why so, my lord?"
"Because I shall die to-day," answered the king.
In tears, wiping her streaming eyes, the queen managed to sob out the words the king bade her say. Then she broke into weeping and lamentation; and the other women of the harem, to the number of eighty-four thousand, also wept and wailed; nor could any of the courtiers forbear, but all alike joined in one universal lament.
"Peace!" said the Bodhisatta; and at his word their lamentation was stilled. Then, turning to the queen, he said,--"Weep not, my queen, nor wail. For, even down to a tiny seed of sesamum, there is no such thing as a compound thing which is permanent; all are transient, all must break up." Then, for the queen's behoof, he uttered this stanza:--

How transient are all component things!
Growth is their nature and decay:
They are produced, they are dissolved again:
And then is best,--when they have sunk to rest 4.

[393] Thus did the great Sudassana lead his discourse up to ambrosial Nirvana as its goal. Moreover, to the rest of the multitude he gave the exhortation to be charitable, to obey the Commandments, and to keep hallowed the fast days. The destiny be won was to be re-born thereafter in the Realm of Devas.

_____________________________

His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "The mother of Rāhula 1 was the Queen Subhaddā of those days; Rāhula was the King's eldest son; the disciples of the Buddha were his courtiers; and I myself the great Sudassana."
[Note. For the evolution of this Jātaka, see the Mahā-parinibbāna Sutta and the Mahā-Sudassana Sutta, translated by Prof. Rhys Davids in his volume of "Buddhist Suttas."]

Footnotes

230:1 For the death of Sāriputta, see Bigandet's 'Legend of the Burmese Buddha.'
231:1 For the death of Moggallāna, see Fausböll's Dhammapada, p. 298, and Bigandet, op. cit.
231:2 The 17th Sutta of the Dīgha Nikāya, translated by Rhys Davids in Vol. XI. of the S. B. E.
231:3 See pp. 267 and 277 of Vol. XI. of the S. B. E. for this palm-grove.
231:4 This translation is borrowed from the Hibbert Lectures of Prof. Rhys Davids (2nd edition, p. 212), where a translation is given of the commentary on these "perhaps the most frequently quoted and most popular verses in Pāli Buddhist books."

No. 96.

TELAPATTA-JĀTAKA.

"As one with care."--This story was told by the Master while dwelling in a forest near the town of Desaka in the Sumbha country, concerning the Janapada-Kalyāṇi Sutta 2. For on that occasion the Blessed One said:--"Just as if, Brethren, a great crowd were to gather together, crying 'Hail to the Belle of the Land! Hail to the Belle of the Land!' and just as if in like manner a greater crowd were to gather together, crying 'The Belle of the Land is singing and dancing'; and then suppose there came a man fond of life, fearful of death, fond of pleasure, and averse to pain, and suppose such an one were addressed as follows,--'Hi, there! you are to carry this pot of oil, which is full to the brim, betwixt the crowd and the Belle of the Land; a man with a drawn sword will follow in your footsteps; and if you spill a single drop, he will cut off your head';--what think you, Brethren? Would that man, under these circumstances, be careless, and take no pains in carrying that pot of oil?" "By no manner of means, sir." "This is an allegory [394], which I framed to make my

meaning clear, Brethren; and here is its meaning:--The brimming pot of oil typifies a collected state of mind as regards things concerning the body, and the lesson to be learnt is that such mindfulness should be practised and perfected. Fail not in this, Brethren." So saying, the Master gave forth the Sutta concerning the Belle of the Land, with both text and interpretation. [395] Then, by way of application, the Blessed One went on to say,--"A Brother desirous of practising right mindfulness concerning the body, should be as careful not to let his mindfulness drop, as the man in the allegory was not to let drop the pot of oil."
When they had heard the Sutta and its meaning, the Brethren said:--"It was a hard task, sir, for the man to pass by with the pot of oil without gazing on the charms of the Belle of the Land." "Not hard at all, Brethren; it was quite an easy task,--easy for the very good reason that he was escorted along by one who threatened him with a drawn sword. But it was a truly hard task for the wise and good of bygone days to preserve right mindfulness and to curb their passions so as not to look at celestial beauty in all its perfection. Still they triumphed, and passing on won a kingdom." So saying, he told this story of the past.

_____________________________

Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was the youngest of the King's hundred sons, and grew up to manhood. Now in those days there were Pacceka Buddhas who used to come to take their meals at the palace, and the Bodhisatta ministered to them.
Thinking one day of the great number of brothers he had, the Bodhisatta asked himself whether there was any likelihood of his coming to the throne of his fathers in that city, and determined to ask the Pacceka Buddhas to tell him what should come to pass. Next day the Buddhas came, took the water-pot that was consecrated to holy uses, filtered the water, washed and dried their feet, and sate down to their meal. And as they sat, the Bodhisatta came and seating himself by them with a courteous salutation, put his question. And they answered and said, "Prince, you will never come to be king in this city. But in Gandhāra, two thousand leagues away, there stands the city of Takkasilā. If you can reach that city, in seven days you will become king there. But there is peril on the road thither, in journeying through a great forest. It is double the distance round the forest that it is to pass through it. Ogres have their dwelling therein, and ogresses make villages and houses arise by the wayside. Beneath a goodly canopy embroidered with stars overhead, their magic sets a costly couch shut in by fair curtains of wondrous dye. Arranged in celestial splendour the ogresses sit within their abodes, seducing wayfarers [396] with honied words. 'Weary you seem,' they say; 'come hither, and eat and drink before you journey further on your way.' Those that come at their bidding are given seats and fired to lust by the charm of their wanton beauty. But scarce have they sinned, before the ogresses slay them and eat them while the warm

blood is still flowing. And they ensnare men's senses; captivating the sense of beauty with utter loveliness, the ear with sweet minstrelsy, the nostrils with heavenly odours, the taste with heavenly dainties of exquisite savour, and the touch with red-cushioned couches divinely soft. But if you can subdue your senses, and be strong in your resolve not to look upon them, then on the seventh day you will become king of the city of Takkasilā."
"Oh, sirs; how could I look upon the ogresses after your advice to me?" So saying, the Bodhisatta besought the Pacceka Buddhas to give him something to keep him safe on his journey. Receiving from them a charmed thread and some charmed sand, he first bade farewell to the Pacceka Buddhas and to his father and mother; and then, going to his own abode, he addressed his household as follows:--"I am going to Takkasilā to make myself king there. You will stop behind here." But five of them answered, "Let us go too."
"You may not come with me," answered the Bodhisatta; "for I am told that the way is beset by ogresses who captivate men's senses, and destroy those who succumb to their charms. Great is the danger, but I will rely on myself and go."
"If we go with you, prince, we should not gaze upon their baleful charms. We too will go to Takkasilā." "Then shew yourselves steadfast," said the Bodhisatta, and took those five with him on his journey.
The ogresses sat waiting by the way in their villages. And one of the five, the lover of beauty, looked upon the ogresses, and being ensnared by their beauty, lagged behind the rest. "Why are you dropping behind?" asked the Bodhisatta. "My feet hurt me, prince. I'll just sit down for a bit in one of these pavilions, and then catch you up." "My good mall, these are ogresses; don't hanker after them." "Be that as it may, prince, I can't go any further." "Well, you will soon be shewn in your real colours," said the Bodhisatta, as he went on with the other four.
Yielding to his senses, the lover of beauty drew near to the ogresses, who [397] tempted him to sin, and killed him then and there. Thereon they departed, and further along the road raised by magic arts a new pavilion, in which they sat singing to the music of divers instruments. And now the lover of music dropped behind and was eaten. Then the ogresses went on further and sat waiting in a bazaar stocked with all sweet scents and perfumes. And here the lover of sweet-smelling things fell behind. And when they had eaten him, they went on further and sat in a provision-booth where a profusion of heavenly viands of exquisite savour was offered for sale. And here the gourmet fell behind. And when they had eaten him, they went on further, and sat on heavenly conches wrought by their magic arts. And here the lover of comfort fell behind. And him too they ate.

Only the Bodhisatta was left now. And one of the ogresses followed him, promising herself that for all his stern resolution she would succeed in devouring him ere she turned back. Further on in the forest, woodmen and others, seeing the ogress, asked her who the man was that walked on ahead.
"He is my husband, good gentlemen."
"Hi, there!" said they to the Bodhisatta; "when you have got a sweet young wife, fair as the flowers, to leave her home and put her trust in you, why don't you walk with her instead of letting her trudge wearily behind you?" "She is no wife of mine, but an ogress. She has eaten my five companions." "Alas! good gentlemen," said she, "anger will drive men to say their very wives are ogresses and ghouls."
Next, she simulated pregnancy and then the look of a woman who has borne one child; and child on hip, she followed after the Bodhisatta. Everyone they met asked just the same questions about the pair, and the Bodhisatta gave just the same answer as he journeyed on.
At last he came to Takkasilā, where the ogress made the child disappear, and followed alone. At the gates of the city the Bodhisatta entered a Rest-house and sat down. Because of the Bodhisatta's efficacy and power, she could not enter too; so she arrayed herself in divine beauty and stood on the threshold.
The King of Takkasilā was at that moment passing by on his way to his pleasaunce, and was snared by her loveliness. "Go, find out," said he to an attendant, "whether she has a husband [398] with her or not." And when the messenger came and asked whether she had a husband with her, she said, "Yes, sir; my husband is sitting within in the chamber."
"She is no wife of mine," said the Bodhisatta. "She is an ogress and has eaten my five companions."
And, as before, she said, "Alas! good gentlemen, anger will drive men to say anything that comes into their heads."
Then the man went back to the King and told him what each had said. "Treasure-trove is a royal perquisite," said the King. And he sent for the ogress and had her seated on the back of his elephant. After a solemn procession round the city, the King came back to his palace and had the ogress lodged in the apartments reserved for a queen-consort. After bathing and perfuming himself, the King ate his evening meal and then lay down on his royal bed. The ogress too prepared herself a meal, and donned all her splendour. And as she lay by the side of the delighted King, she turned on to her side and burst into tears. Being asked why she wept, she said, "Sire, you found me by the wayside, and the women of the harem are many. Dwelling here among enemies I shall feel crushed when they say 'Who knows who your father and mother are, or anything about your family? You were picked up by the wayside.' But if your

majesty would give me power and authority over the whole kingdom, nobody would dare to annoy me with such taunts."
"Sweetheart, I have no power over those that dwell throughout my kingdom; I am not their lord and master. I have only jurisdiction over those who revolt or do iniquity 1. So I cannot give you power and authority over the whole kingdom."
"Then, sire, if you cannot give me authority over the kingdom or over the city, at least give me authority within the palace, that I may have rule here over those that dwell in the palace."
Too deeply smitten with her charms to refuse, the King gave her authority over all within the palace and bade her have rule over them [399]. Contented, she waited till the King was asleep, and then making her way to the city of the ogres returned with the whole crew of ogres to the palace. And she herself slew the King and devoured him, skin, tendons and flesh, leaving only the bare bones. And the rest of the ogres entering the gate devoured everything as it came in their way, not leaving even a fowl or a dog alive. Next day when people came and found the gate shut, they beat on it with impatient cries, and effected an entrance,--only to find the whole palace strewn with bones. And they exclaimed, "So the man was right in saying she was not his wife but an ogress. In his unwisdom the King brought her home to be his wife, and doubtless she has assembled the other ogres, devoured everybody, and then made off."
Now on that day the Bodhisatta, with the charmed sand on his head and the charmed thread twisted round his brow, was standing in the Rest-house, sword in hand, waiting for the dawn. Those others, meantime, cleansed the palace, garnished the floors afresh, sprinkled perfumes on them, scattered flowers, hanging nosegays from the roof and festooning the walls with garlands, and burning incense in the place. Then they took counsel together, as follows:--
"The man that could so master his senses as not so much as to look at the ogress as she followed him in her divine beauty, is a noble and steadfast man, filled with wisdom. With such an one as king, it would be well with the whole kingdom. Let us make him our king."
And all the courtiers and all the citizens of the kingdom were one-minded in the matter. So the Bodhisatta, being chosen king, was escorted into the capital and there decked in jewels and anointed king of Takkasilā. Shunning the four evil paths, and following the ten paths of kingly duty, he ruled his kingdom in righteousness, and after a life spent in charity and other good works passed away to fare according to his deserts.

_____________________________

p. 237
His story told, the Master, as Buddha, uttered this stanza:-- [400]

As one with care a pot of oil will bear,
  Full to the brim, that none may overflow,
So he who forth to foreign lands doth fare
  O’er his own heart like governaunce should shew.

[401] When the Master had thus led up to the highest point of instruction, which is Arahatship, he identified the Birth by saying, "The Buddha's disciples were in those days the king's courtiers, and I the prince that won a kingdom."

Footnotes

232:1 This is the general style in the canon of the wife of Goiania the Buddha. Cf. Oldenberg's Vinaya, Vol. I. page 82, and the translation in Sacred Books of the East, Vol. XIII. p. 208. It is not however correct to say that the Vinaya passage is "the only passage in the Pāli Piṭakas which mentions this lady." For she is mentioned in the Buddhavaṃsa (P. T. S. edition, page 65), and her name is there given as Bhaddakaccā.
232:2 It is not yet known where this Sutta occurs. A Pāli summary of it has been left untranslated, as adding little or nothing to the above 'Introductory Story.'
236:1 Cf. Milinda-pañho 359 for an exposition of the limited prerogative of kings.

No. 97.

NĀMASIDDHI-JĀTAKA.

"Seeing Quick dead."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, about a Brother who thought luck went by names. For we hear that a young man of good family, named 'Base,' had given his heart to the Faith, and joined the Brotherhood. [402] And the Brethren used to call to him, "Here, Brother Base!" and "Stay, Brother Base," till he resolved that, as 'Base' gave the idea of incarnate wickedness and ill-luck, he would change his name to one of better omen. Accordingly he asked his teachers and preceptors to give him a new name. But they said that a name only served to denote, and did not impute qualities; and they bade him rest content with the name he had. Time after time he renewed his request, till the whole Brotherhood knew what importance he attached to a mere name. And as they sat discussing the matter in the Hall of Truth, the Master entered and asked what it was they were speaking about. Being told, he said "This is not the first time this Brother has believed luck went by names; he was equally dissatisfied with the name he bore in a former age." So saying he told this story of the past.

_____________________________

Once on a time the Bodhisatta was a teacher of world-wide fame at Takkasilā, and five hundred young brahmins learnt the Vedas from his lips. One of these young men was named Base. And from continually hearing his fellows say, "Go, Base" and "Come, Base," he longed to get rid of his name and to take one that had a less ill-omened ring about it. So he went to his master and asked that a new name of a respectable character might be given him. Said his master, "Go, my son, and travel through the land till you have found a name you fancy. Then come back and I will change your name for you."

The young man did as he was bidden, and taking provisions for the

journey wandered from village to village till he cane to a certain town. Here a man named Quick had died, and the young brahmin seeing him borne to the cemetery asked what his name was.

"Quick," was the reply. "What, can Quick be dead?" "Yes, Quick is dead; both Quick and Dead die just the same. A name only serves to mark who's who. You seem a fool."

Hearing this he went on into the city, feeling neither satisfied nor dissatisfied with his own name.

Now a slave-girl had been thrown down at the door of a house, while her master and mistress beat her with rope-ends because she had not brought home her wages. And the girl's name was Rich. [403] Seeing the girl being beaten, as he walked along the street, he asked the reason, and was told in reply that it was because she had no wages to shew.

"And what is the girl's name?"

"Rich," said they. "And cannot Rich make good a paltry day's pay?" "Be she called Rich or Poor, the money's not forthcoming any the more. A name only serves to mark who's who. You seem a fool."

More reconciled to his own name, the young brahmin left the city and on the road found a. man who had lost his way. Having learnt that he had lost his way, the young man asked what his name was. "Guide," was the reply. "And has Guide lost his way?" "Guide or Misguide, you can lose your way just the same. A name only serves to mark who's who. You seem a fool."

Quite reconciled now to his name, the young brahmin came back to his master.

"Well, what name have you chosen?" asked the Bodhisatta. "Master," said he, "I find that death comes to 'Quick' and 'Dead' alike, that 'Rich' and 'Poor' may be poor together, and that 'Guide' and 'Misguide' alike miss their way. I know now that a name serves only to tell who is who, and does not govern its owner's destiny. So I am satisfied with my own name, and do not want to change it for any other."

Then the Bodhisatta uttered this stanza, combining what the young brahmin had done with the sights he had seen:--

Seeing Quick dead, Guide lost, Rich poor,
Base learned content nor travelled more.

_____________________________

His story told, the Master said "So you see, Brethren, that in former days as now this Brother imagined there was a great deal in a name." And he identified the Birth by saying, "This Brother who is discontented with his name was the discontented young brahmin of those days; the Buddha's disciples were the pupils; and I myself their master."

No. 98.

KŪṬAVĀṆIJA-JĀTAKA.

[404] "Wise rightly, Wisest wrongly."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, about a cheating merchant. There were two merchants in partnership at Sāvatthi, we are told, who travelled with their merchandise and came back with the proceeds. And the cheating merchant thought to himself, "My partner has been badly fed and badly lodged for so many days past that he will die of indigestion now he has got home again and can feast to his heart's content on dainties manifold. My plan is to divide what we have made into three portions, giving one to his orphans and keeping two for myself." And with this object he made some excuse day by day for putting off the division of the profits.

Finding that it was in vain to press for a division, the honest partner went to the Master at the monastery, made his salutation, and was received kindly. "It is a very long time," said the Buddha, "since you came last to see me." And hereupon the merchant told the Master what had befallen him.

"This is not the first time, lay-follower," said the Master, "that this man has been a cheating merchant; he was no less a cheat in times past. As he tries to defraud you now, so did he try to defraud the wise and good of other days." So saying, at the merchant's request, the Master told this story of the past.

_____________________________

Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born into a merchant's family and on name-day was named 'Wise.' When he grew up he entered into partnership with another merchant named 'Wisest,' and traded with him. And these two took five hundred waggons of merchandise from Benares to the country-districts, where they disposed of their wares, returning afterwards with the proceeds to the city. When the time for dividing came, Wisest said, "I must have a double share." "Why so?" asked Wise. "Because while you are only Wise, I am Wisest. And Wise ought to have only one share to Wisest's two." "But we both had an equal interest in the stock-in-trade and in the oxen and waggons. Why should you have two shares?" "Because I am Wisest." And so they talked away till they fell to quarrelling.

"Ah!" thought Wisest, "I have a plan." And he made his father hide in [405] a hollow tree, enjoining the old man to say, when the two came, "Wisest should have a double portion." This arranged, he went to the Bodhisatta and proposed to him to refer the claim for a double share to the competent decision of the Tree-Sprite. Then he made his appeal in these words: "Lord Tree-Sprite, decide our cause!" Hereupon the father, who was hidden in the tree, in a changed voice asked them to state the

case. The cheat addressed the tree as follows: "Lord, here stands Wise, and here stand I Wisest. We have been partners in trade. Declare what share each should receive."

"Wise should receive one share, and Wisest two," was the response.

Hearing this decision, the Bodhisatta resolved to find out whether it was indeed a Tree-Sprite or not. So he filled the hollow trunk with straw and set it on fire. And Wisest's father was half roasted by the rising flames and clambered up by clutching hold of a bough. Falling to the ground, he uttered this stanza:--

Wise rightly, Wisest wrongly got his name;
Through Wisest, I'm nigh roasted in the flame.

Then the two merchants made an equal division and each took half, and at their deaths passed away to fare according to their deserts.

_____________________________

"Thus you see," said the Master, "that your partner was as great a cheat in past times as now." Having ended his story, he identified the Birth by saying, "The cheating merchant of to-day was the cheating merchant in the story, and I the honest merchant named Wise."

No. 99.

PAROSAHASSA-JĀTAKA.

"Far better than a thousand fools."--This story was told by the Master when at Jetavana, concerning the question of the unconverted. [406]
(The incidents will be related in the Sarabhaṅga-jātaka 1.)
On a certain occasion the Brethren met in the Hall of Truth and praised the wisdom of Sāriputta, the Captain of the Faith, who had expounded the meaning of the Buddha's pithy saying. Entering the hall, the Master asked and was told what the Brethren were talking about. "This is not the first time, Brethren," said he, "that the meaning of a pithy saying of mine has been brought out by Sāriputta. He did the like in times gone by." So saying, he told this story of the past.

_____________________________

Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born a Northern brahmin and perfected his education at Takkasilā. Putting Lusts from him and renouncing the world for the hermit's life, he

won the Five Knowledges and the Eight Attainments, and dwelt in the Himalayas, where five 'hundred hermits gathered round him. One rainy season, his chief disciple went with half the hermits to the haunts of men to get salt and vinegar. And that was the time when the Bodhisatta should die. And his disciples, wishing to know his spiritual attainment, said to him, "What excellence have you won?"
"Won?" said he; "I have won Nothing 1." So saying, he died, but was reborn in the Brahma Realm of Radiant Devils. (For Bodhisattas even though they may have attained to the highest state are never reborn in the Formless World, because they are incapable of passing beyond the Realm of Form.) Mistaking his meaning, his disciples concluded that he had failed to win any spiritual attainment. So they did not pay the customary honours at cremation.
On his return the chief disciple learnt that the master was dead, and asked whether they had asked what he had won. "He said he had won nothing," said they. "So we did not pay him the usual honours at cremation."
"You understood not his meaning," said that chief disciple. "Our master meant that he had attained to the insight called the insight into the Nothingness of Things." But though he explained this again and again to the disciples, they believed him not.
Knowing their unbelief, the Bodhisatta cried, "Fools! they do not believe my chief disciple. I will make this thing plain unto them." And he came from the Brahma Realm and by virtue of his mighty powers rested in mid-air above the hermitage and uttered this stanza in praise of the wisdom of the chief disciple:--[407]

Far better than a thousand fools, though they
Cry out a hundred years unceasingly,
Is one who, hearing, straightway understands.

Thus did the Great Being from mid-air proclaim the Truth and rebuke the band of hermits. Then he passed back to the Brahma Realm, and all those hermits too qualified themselves for rebirth in the same Realm.

_____________________________

His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "Sāriputta was the chief disciple of those days, and I Mahā-Brahma."

Footnotes

240:1 No. 522.
241:1 One of the highest Attainments was the insight into the nothingness of things; everything being a delusion.

 

Om Tat Sat
                                                        
(Continued...) 

(My humble salutations to Sreeman Professor E B Cowell ji and also Sreeman Robert Chalmers for the collection)