Monday, January 13, 2014

THE JĀTAKA OR STORIES OF THE BUDDHA'S FORMER BIRTHS (Book -3) -16

















THE JĀTAKA

OR
STORIES OF THE BUDDHA'S FORMER BIRTHS



No. 425. 1

AṬṬHĀNA-JĀTAKA.

"Make Ganges calm," etc.—The Master told this tale while dwelling in Jetavana, concerning a backsliding Brother. The Master asked him, "Is the story true, Brother, that you are backsliding?" "Yes, lord." "What is the cause?" "The power of desire." "Brother, womankind are ungrateful, treacherous, untrustworthy: of old wise men could not satisfy a woman, even by giving her a thousand pieces a day: and one day when she did not get the thousand pieces she had them taken by the neck and cast out: [475] so ungrateful are womankind: do not fall into the power of desire for such a cause," and so he told an old tale.

Once upon a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, his son, young Brahmadatta, and young Mahādhana, son of a rich merchant of Benares, were comrades and playfellows, and were educated in the same teacher's house. The prince became king at his father's death: and the merchant's son abode near him. There was in Benares a certain courtesan, beautiful and prosperous. The merchant's son gave her a

thousand pieces daily, and took pleasure with her constantly: at his father's death he succeeded to the rich merchant's position, and did not forsake her, still giving her a thousand pieces daily. Three times a day he went to wait upon the king. One day he went to wait upon him in the evening. As he was talking with the king, the sun set, and it became dark. As he left the palace, he thought, "There is no time to go home and come back again: I will go straight to the courtesan's house:" so he dismissed his attendants, and entered her house alone. When she saw him, she asked if he had brought the thousand pieces. "Dear, I was very late to-day; so I sent away my attendants without going home, and have come alone; but to-morrow I will give you two thousand pieces." She thought, "If I admit him to-day, he will come empty-handed on other days, and so my wealth will be lost: I won't admit him this time." So she said, "Sir, I am but a courtesan: I do not give my favours without a thousand pieces: you must bring the sum." "Dear, I will bring twice the sum to-morrow," and so he begged her [476] again and again. The courtesan gave orders to her maids, "Don't let that man stand there and look at me: take him by the neck, and cast him out, and then shut the door." They did so. He thought, "I have spent on her eighty crores of money; yet on the one day when I come empty-handed, she has me seized by the neck and cast out: Oh, womankind are wicked, shameless, ungrateful, treacherous:" and so he pondered and pondered on the bad qualities of womankind, till he felt dislike and disgust, and became discontented with a layman's life. "Why should I lead a layman's life? I will go this day and become an ascetic," he thought: so without going back to his house or seeing the king again, he left the city and entered the forest: he made a hermitage on the Ganges bank, and there made his abode as an ascetic, reaching the Perfection of Meditation, and living on wild roots and fruits.
The king missed his friend and asked for him. The courtesan's conduct had become known throughout the city: so they told the king of the matter, adding, "O king, they say that your friend through shame did not go home, but has become an ascetic in the forest." The king summoned the courtesan, and asked if the story were true about her treatment of his friend. She confessed. "Wicked, vile woman, go quickly to where my friend is and fetch him: if you fail, your life is forfeit." She was afraid at the king's words; she mounted a chariot and drove out of the city with a great retinue; she sought for his abode and hearing of it by report, went there and saluted and prayed, "Sir, bear with the evil I did in my blindness and folly: I will never do so again." "Very well, I forgive you; I am not angry with you." "If you forgive me, mount the chariot with me: we will drive to the city, and as soon as we enter it [477] I will give you all the money in my house.". When he heard her,

he replied, "Lady, I cannot go with you now: but when something that cannot happen in this world will happen, then perhaps I may go;" and so he spoke the first stanza:—
Make Ganges calm like lotus-tank, cuckoos pearl-white to see,
Make apples bear the palm-trees' fruit: perchance it then might be.

But she said again, "Come; I am going." He answered, "I will go." "When?" "At such and such a time," he said and spoke the remaining stanzas:—
When woven out of tortoise-hair a triple cloth you see,
For winter wear against the cold, perchance it then may be.

When of mosquito's teeth you build a tower so skilfully,
That will not shake or totter soon, perchance it then may be.

When out of horns of hare you make a ladder skilfully,
Stairs that will climb the height of heaven, perchance it then may be.

When mice to mount those ladder-stairs and eat the moon agree,
And bring down Rāhu from the sky, the thing perchance may be.

When swarms of flies devour strong drink in pitchers full and free,
And house themselves in burning coals, the thing perchance may be.

When asses get them ripe red lips and faces fair to see,
And shew their skill in song and dance, the thing perchance may be.

When crows and owls shall meet to talk in converse privily,
And woo each other, lover-like, the thing perchance may be.

[478] When sun-shades, made of tender leaves from off the forest tree,
Are strong against the rushing rain, the thing perchance may be.

When sparrows take Himālaya in all its majesty,
And bear it in their little beaks, the thing perchance may be.

And when a boy can carry light, with all its bravery,
A ship full-rigged for distant seas, the thing perchance may be.

So the Great Being spoke these eleven stanzas to fix impossible (aṭṭhāna) conditions. The courtesan, hearing him, won his forgiveness and went back to Benares. She told the matter to the king, and begged for her life, which was granted.

After the lesson, the Master said, "So, Brethren, womankind are ungrateful and treacherous"; then he declared the Truths, and identified the Birth:—After the Truths, the backsliding Brother was established in the fruition of the First Path:—"At that time the king was Ānanda, the ascetic was myself."

Footnotes

282:1 Cf. Tibetan Tales, no. 12 Suśroni, and supra, no. 374.



No. 426.

DĪPI-JĀTAKA. 1

[479] "How fares it with you," etc.—The Master told this tale while dwelling in Jetavana, concerning a certain she-goat. At one time the Elder Moggallāna lived in a dwelling with one door, in a mountain enclosure, surrounded by hills. His covered walk was close by the door. Some goatherds thought the enclosure would be a good place for their goats, so they drove them in and lived there at their pleasure. One day they came in the evening, took all the goats, and went away: but one she-goat had wandered far, and not seeing the goats departing, she was left behind. Later, as she was departing, a certain panther saw her, and thinking to eat her stood by the door of the enclosure. She looked all round, and saw the panther. "He is there because he wishes to kill and eat me," she thought; "if I turn and run, my life is lost; I must play the man," and so she tosses her horns, and sprang straight at him with all her might. She escaped his grip, though he was quivering with the thought of catching her: then running at full speed she came up with the other goats. The Elder observed how all the animals had behaved: next day he went and told the Tathāgata, "So, lord, this she-goat performed a feat by her readiness in device, and escaped from the panther." The Master answered, "Moggallāna, the panther failed to catch her this time, but once before he killed her though she cried out, and ate her." Then at Moggallāna's request, he told an old tale.

Once upon a time the Bodhisatta was born in a certain village of the Magadha kingdom, in a wealthy family. When he grew up, he renounced desires and adopted the religious life, reaching the perfection of meditation. After dwelling long in the Himālaya, he came to Rājagaha for salt and vinegar, and dwelt in a hut of leaves which he made in a mountain enclosure. Just as in the introductory story, the goatherds drove their goats thither: and in the same way, one day as a single she-goat was going out later than the rest, a panther waited by the door, thinking to eat her. When she saw him, she thought, "My life is forfeit: by some means I must get him into pleasant and kindly talk, and so soften his heart [480] and save my life." Beginning a friendly talk with him from some distance, she spoke the first stanza:—
How fares it with you, uncle? and is it well with you?
My mother sends her kind regards: and I'm your friend so true.
Hearing her, the panther thought, "This baggage would beguile me by calling me "uncle": she does not know how hard I am;" and so he spoke the second stanza:—
You've trod upon my tail, miss goat, and done me injury:
And you think by saying "Uncle" that you can go scot-free.

When she heard him, she said, "O uncle, don't talk in that way," and spoke the third stanza:—
I faced you as I came, good Sir, you face me as you sit:
Your tail is all behind you: how could I tread on it?
He answered, "What do you say, she-goat? is there any place where my tail might not be?" and so he spoke the fourth stanza:—
[481]
As far as four great continents with seas and mountains spread,
My tail extends: how could you fail on such a tail to tread?
The she-goat; when she heard this, thought, "This wicked one is not attracted by soft words: I will answer him as an enemy," and so she spoke the fifth stanza:—
Your villain's tail is long, I know, for I had warning fair:
Parents and brothers told me so: but I flew through the air.
Then he said, "I know you came through the air: but as you came, you spoilt my food by your way of coming," and so he spoke the sixth stanza:—
The sight of you, miss goat, on high, the air a-flying through,
Frightened a herd of deer: and so my food was spoilt by you.
Hearing this, the goat in fear of death could bring no other excuse, but cried out, "Uncle, do not commit such cruelty; spare my life." But though she cried out, the other seized her by the shoulder, killed her and ate her.

’Twas thus the she-goat cried for grace: but blood must satisfy
The beast that grips her throat; the bad will shew no courtesy.
Conduct, nor right, nor courtesy, the bad man will display;
He hates the good: to face him then ’tis best in open fray.

These are two stanzas inspired by Perfect Wisdom.

[482]
A holy ascetic saw the whole matter of the two animals.

After this lesson, the Master identified the Birth: "At that time the she-goat and the panther were the she-goat and the panther of to-day, the holy ascetic was myself."

Footnotes

285:1 Cf. Tibetan Tales, no. 29, and Folk-lore Journal, vol. iv. p. 45.


BOOK IX. NAVANIPĀTA.

No. 427.

GIJJHA-JĀTAKA. 1

[483] "Formed of rough logs;" etc.—This story the Master told at Jetavana concerning a, disobedient Brother. He was, they say, of gentle birth, and though ordained in the doctrine that leads to Salvation, was admonished by his well-wishers, masters, teachers, and fellow-students to this effect: "Thus must you advance and thus retreat; thus look at or away from objects; thus must the arm be stretched out or drawn back; thus are the inner and outer garment to be worn; thus is the bowl to be held, and when you have received sufficient food to sustain life, after self-examination, thus are you to partake of it, keeping guard over the door of the senses; in eating you are to be moderate and exercise watchfulness; you are to recognize such and such duties towards Brethren who come to or go from the monastery; these are the fourteen 2 sets of priestly duties, and the eighty great duties to duly performed; these are the thirteen 3 Dhuta practices; all these are to be scrupulously performed." Yet was he disobedient and impatient, and did not receive instruction respectfully, but refused to listen to them, saying, "I do not find fault with you. Why do you speak thus to me? I shall know what is for my good, and what is not." Then the Brethren, hearing of his disobedience, sat in the Hall of Truth, telling of his faults. The Master came and asked them what it was they were discussing, and sent for the Brother and said, "Is it true, Brother, that you are disobedient?" And when he confessed that it was so, the Master said, "Why, Brother, after being ordained in so excellent a doctrine that leads to Salvation, [484] do you not listen to the voice of your well-wishers? Formerly too you disobeyed the voice of the wise, and were blown into atoms by the Veramba wind." And herewith he told a story of the past.

Once upon a time the Bodhisatta came to life as a young vulture on Vulture Mountain. Now his offspring Supatta, the king of the vultures,

was strong and lusty and had a following of many thousands of vultures, and he fed the parent birds. And owing to his strength he used to fly to a very great distance. So his father admonished him and said, "My son, you must not go beyond such and such a point." He said, "Very good," but one day when it rained, he flew up with the other vultures, and leaving the rest behind, and going beyond the prescribed limit, he came within the range of the Veramba wind, and was blown into atoms.

The Master, in his Perfect Wisdom, to illustrate this incident, uttered these verses:
Formed of rough logs, an ancient pathway led
To dizzy heights, where a young vulture fed
The parent birds. Lusty and strong of wing
He oft to them would fat of serpents bring;
And when his father saw him flying high
And venturing far afield, he thus would cry,
"My son, when thou canst scan from thy look out
Earth's rounded sphere by ocean girt about,
No farther go, but straight return, I pray."
Then would this king of birds speed on his way,
And bending o’er the earth, with piercing sight
He viewed below forest and mountain height:
And earth would, as his sire described, appear
Amid the encircling sea a rounded sphere.
But when beyond these limits he had passed,
Strong bird though he might be, a raging blast
Swept him away to an untimely death,
Powerless to cope with storm-wind's fiery breath.
[485] Thus did the bird by disobedience prove
Fatal to those dependent on his love:
So perish all that scornful of old age
Deride the warnings uttered by the sage,
As the young vulture Wisdom's voice defied
And scorned the limits set to bound his pride.

[486] " Therefore, Brother, be not like unto this vulture, but do the bidding of your well-wishers." And being thus admonished by the Master, he thenceforth became obedient.

The Master, his lesson ended, identified the Birth: "The disobedient vulture of those days is now the disobedient Brother. The parent vulture was myself."

Footnotes

287:1 See No. 381 supra.
287:2 Called Khandakavattāni because contained in the Khandaka division of the Vinaya.
287:3 Hardy's Eastern Monachism, p. 9.



No. 428.

KOSAMBĪ-JĀTAKA.

"Whene’er the Brotherhood," etc.—This story the Master, while dwelling in the Ghosita park near Kosambī, told concerning certain quarrelsome folk at Kosambī. The incident that led to the story is to be found in the section of the Vinaya relating to Kosambī 1. Here is a short summary of it. At that time, it is said, two Brothers lived in the same house, the one versed in the Vinaya, the other in the Sūtras. The latter of these one day having occasion to visit the lavatory went out leaving the surplus water for rinsing the mouth in a vessel. Afterwards the one versed in the Vinaya went in and seeing the water came out and asked his companion if the water had been left there by him. He answered, "Yes, Sir." "What! do you not know that this is sinful?" "No, I was not aware of it." "Well, Brother, it is sinful." "Then I will atone for it." "But if you did it inadvertently and heedlessly, it is not sinful." So he became as one who saw no sin in what was sinful. The Vinaya scholar said to his pupils, "This Sutra scholar, though falling into sin, is not aware of it." They on seeing the other Brother's pupils said, "Your master though falling into sin does not recognize its sinfulness." They went and told their master. He said, "This Vinaya scholar before said it was no sin, and now says it is a sin: he is a liar." They went and told the others, "Your master is a liar." Thus they stirred up a quarrel, one with another. Then the Vinaya scholar, finding an opportunity, went through the form of excommunication of the Brother for refusing to see his offence. Thenceforth even the laymen who provided necessaries for the priests were divided into two factions. The sisterhoods too that accept their admonitions, and tutelary gods, with their friends and intimates and deities from those that rest in space 2 [487] to those of the Brahma World, even all such as were unconverted, formed two parties, and the uproar reached to the abode of the Sublime gods 2.
Then a certain Brother drew nigh to the Tathāgata, and announced the view of the excommunicating party who said, "The man is excommunicated in orthodox form," and the view of the followers of the excommunicated one, who said, "He is illegally excommunicated," and the practice of those who though forbidden by the excommunicating party, still gathered round in support of him. The Blessed One said, "There is a schism, yea, a schism in the Brotherhood," and he went to them and pointed out the misery involved in excommunication to those that excommunicated, and the misery following upon the concealment of sin to the opposite party, and so departed. Again when they were holding the Uposatha and similar services in the same place, within the boundary, and were quarrelling in the refectory and elsewhere, he laid down the rule that they were to sit down together, one by one from each side alternately. And hearing that they were still quarrelling in the monastery he went there and said, "Enough, Brothers, let us have no quarrelling." And one of the heretical side 3, not wishing to annoy the Blessed One, said, "Let the Blessed Lord of Truth stay at home. Let the Blessed One dwell quietly at ease, enjoying the bliss he has already obtained in this life. We shall make ourselves notorious by this quarrelling, altercation, disputing and contention."

But the Master said to them, "Once upon a time, Brethren, Brahmadatta reigned as king of Kāsi in Benares, and he robbed Dīghati, king of Kosala, of his kingdom, and put him to death, when living in disguise, and when prince Dīghāvu spared the life of Brahmadatta, they became thenceforth close friends. And since such must have been the long-suffering and tenderness of these sceptred and sword-bearing kings, verily, Brethren, you ought to make it clear that you too, having embraced the religious life according to so well-taught a doctrine and discipline, can be forgiving and tender-hearted." And thus admonishing them for the third time he said, "Enough, Brothers, let there be no quarrelling." And when he saw that they did not cease at his bidding, he went away, saying, "Verily, these foolish folk are like men possessed, they are not easy of persuasion." Next day returning from the collection of alms he rested awhile in his perfumed chamber, and put his room in order, and then taking his bowl and robe he stood poised in the air and delivered these verses in the midst of the assembly:
[488]
Whene’er the Brotherhood in twain is rent,
The common folk to loud-mouthed cries give vent:
Each one believes that he himself is wise,
And views his neighbour with disdainful eyes.
Bewildered souls, puffed up with self-esteem,
With open mouth they foolishly blaspheme;
And as through all the range of speech they stray,
They know not whom as leader to obey.
"This 1 man abused me, that struck me a blow,
A third o’ercame and robbed me long ago."
All such as harbour feelings of this kind,
To mitigate their wrath are ne’er inclined.
"He did abuse and buffet me of yore
He overcame me and oppressed me sore."
They who such thoughts refuse to entertain,
Appease their wrath and live at one again.
Not hate, but love alone makes hate to cease:
This is the everlasting law of peace.
Some men the law of self-restraint despise,
But who make up their quarrels, they are wise.
If men all scarred with wounds in deadly strife,
Reivers and robbers, taking human life,
Nay those that plunder a whole realm, may be
Friends with their foes, should Brethren not agree?
Shouldst thou a wise and honest comrade find,
A kindred soul, to dwell with thee inclined,
All dangers past, with him thou still wouldst stray,
In happy contemplation all the day.
But shouldst thou fail to meet with such a friend,
Thy life ’twere best in solitude to spend,
Like to some prince that abdicates a throne,
Or elephant that ranges all alone.
For choice adopt the solitary life,
Companionship with fools but leads to strife;
In careless innocence pursue thy way,
Like elephant in forest wild astray.

[489] When the Master had thus spoken, as he failed to reconcile these Brethren, he went to Bālakaloakāragāma (the village of Bālaka, the salt-maker),

and discoursed to the venerable Bhagu of the blessings of solitude. Thence he repaired to the abode of three youths of gentle birth and spoke to them of the bliss to be found in the sweets of concord. Thence he journeyed to the Pārileyyaka forest, [490] and after dwelling there three months, without returning to Kosambī, he went straight to Sāvatthi. And the lay folk of Kosambī consulted together and said, "Surely these reverend Brothers of Kosambī have done us much harm; worried by them the Blessed One is gone away. We will neither offer salutation nor other marks of respect to them, nor give alms to them when they visit us. So they will depart, or return to the world, or will propitiate the Blessed One." And they did so. And these Brethren overwhelmed by this form of punishment went to Sāvatthi and begged forgiveness of the Blessed One.

The Master thus identified the Birth: "The father was the great king Suddhodana, the mother was Mahāmāyā, prince Dīghāvu was myself."

Footnotes

289:1 Mahāvagga, x. 1-10.
289:2 These include all gods except those in the four highest heavens (arūpa-brahmalokas). Hardy, Manual of Budhism, p. 26.
289:3 Reading adhammavādinā as in the parallel passage of the Mahāvagga, p. 341.
290:1 Dhammapada, v. 3-5. See also No. 371 supra.


No. 429.

MAHĀSUKA-JĀTAKA. 1

"Wherever fruitful trees," etc.—This story the Master dwelling at Jetavana told concerning a certain Brother. The story goes that he lived in a forest near a border village in the Kosala country, and received instruction in forms of meditation from the Master. The people made him a dwelling-place on a site where men continually passed to and fro, providing him with day and night quarters, and attentively ministered to him. In the very first month after he had entered upon the rainy season the village was burned down and the people had not so much as a seed left and were unable to supply his alms-bowl with savoury food; and though he was in a pleasant place of abode, he was so distressed for alms that he could not enter upon the Path or its Fruition. So when at the end of three months he went to visit the Master, after words of kindly greeting the Master hoped that though distressed for alms he had a pleasant place to live in. The Brother told him how matters stood. The Master on hearing that he had pleasant quarters said, "Brother, if this is so, an ascetic ought to lay aside covetous ways, and be content to eat whatever food he can get, and to fulfil all the duties of a priest. Sages of old when born into the world as animals, [491] though they lived on the powdered dust of the decayed

tree in which they had their abode, laid aside greedy desires and were contented to stay where they were, and fulfilled the law of love. Why then do you abandon a pleasant dwelling-place, because the food you receive is scanty and coarse?" And at his request the Master told a story of the past.

Once upon a time many myriads of parrots lived in the Himālaya country on the banks of the Ganges in a grove of fig-trees. A king of the parrots there, when the fruit of the tree in which he dwelt had come to an end, ate whatever was left, whether shoot or leaf or bark or rind, and drank of water from the Ganges, and being very happy and contented he kept where he was. Owing to his happy and contented state the abode of Sakka was shaken. Sakka reflecting on the cause saw the parrot, and to test his virtue, by his supernatural power he withered up the tree, which became a mere stump perforated with holes, and stood to be buffeted by every blast of wind, and from the holes dust came out. The parrot king ate this dust and drank the water of the Ganges, and going nowhere else sat perched on the top of the fig-stump, reeking nought of wind and sun.
Sakka noticed how very contented the parrot was, and said, "After hearing him speak of the virtue of friendship, I will come and give him his choice of a boon, and cause the fig-tree to bear ambrosial fruit." So he took the form of a royal goose, and preceded by Sujā in the shape of an Asura nymph, he went to the grove of fig-trees, and perching on the bough of a tree close by, he entered into conversation with the parrot and spoke the first stanza:
Wherever fruitful trees abound,
A flock of hungry birds is found:
But should the trees all withered be,
Away at once the birds will flee.
[492] And after these words, to drive the parrot thence, he spoke the second stanza:
Haste thee, Sir Redbeak, to be gone;
Why dost thou sit and dream alone?
Come tell me, prithee, bird of spring,
To this dead stump why dost thou cling?
Then the parrot said, "O goose, from a feeling of gratitude, I forsake not this tree," and he repeated two stanzas:
They who have been close friends from youth,
Mindful of goodness and of truth,
In life and death, in weal and woe
The claims of friendship ne’er forego.
I too would fain be kind and good
To one that long my friend has stood;
I wish to live, but have no heart
From this old tree, though dead, to part.


Sakka on hearing what he said was delighted, and praising him wished to offer him a choice, and uttered two stanzas:
[493]
I know thy friendship and thy grateful love,
Virtues that wise men surely must approve.
I offer thee whate’er thou wilt for choice;
Parrot, what boon would most thy heart rejoice?

On hearing this, the king parrot making his choice spoke the seventh stanza:
If thou, O goose, what most I crave wouldst give,
Grant that the tree I love, again may live.
Let it once more with its old vigour shoot,
Gather fresh sweetness and bear goodly fruit.
Then Sakka, granting the boon, spoke the eighth stanza:
Lo! friend, a fruitful and right noble tree,
Well fitted for thy dwelling-place to be.
Let it once more with its old vigour shoot,
Gather fresh sweetness and bear goodly fruit.
[494] With these words Sakka quitted his present form, and manifesting the supernatural power of himself and Sujā, he took up water from the Ganges in his hand and dashed it against the fig-tree stump. Straightway the tree rose up rich in branch, and stem, and with honey-sweet fruit, and stood a charming sight, like unto the bare Jewel-Mount. The parrot king on seeing it was highly pleased, and singing the praises of Sakka he spoke the ninth stanza:
May Sakka and all loved by Sakka blesséd be,
As I to-day am blest this goodly sight to see!
Sakka, after granting the parrot his choice, and causing the fig-tree to bear ambrosial fruit, returned with Sujātā to his own abode.

In illustration of this story these stanzas inspired by Perfect Wisdom were added at the close:
Soon as king parrot wisely made his choice,
    The tree once more put forth its fruit again;
    Then Sakka with his queen did fly amain
To where in Nandana the gods rejoice.
The Master, his lesson ended, said, "Thus, Brother, sages of old though born in animal forms were free from covetousness. Why then do you, after being ordained under so excellent a dispensation, follow greedy ways? So and dwell in the same place." And he gave him a form of meditation, and thus identified the Birth:—The Brother went back and by spiritual insight attained to Sainthood:—"At that time Sakka was Anuruddha, and the parrot king was myself."

Footnotes

291:1 Morris, Folk Lore Journal, iii. 67.


No. 430.

CULLASUKA-JĀTAKA.

"Lo! countless trees," etc.—This story the Master dwelling at Jetavana told concerning the Verañjā section 1. When the Master after passing the rainy season at Verañjā in due course arrived at Sāvatthi, the Brethren in the Hall of Truth raised a discussion saying, "Sirs, a Tathāgata, a delicately nurtured kshatriya and Buddha, though possessed of supernatural powers, at the invitation of a brahmin of Verañjā stayed three onths with him, and when owing to the temptation of Māra he failed to receive an alms at the hands of the brahmin, even for a single day, he gave up all covetous ways, and keeping in the same place for three months lived on water and a modicum of the ground flour of roots. [4951 Oh the contented nature of Tathāgatas!" When the Master came and on inquiry learned the nature of their discussion he said, "It is no marvel, Brethren, that a Tathāgata now has lost all covetousness, seeing that formerly when born in an animal form he forsook covetousness." And hereupon he told a story of the past. The whole story is now to be related in detail in exactly the same way as in the preceding tale.

Lo! countless trees are here, all green and fruitful see!
Why, parrot, dost thou cling to this poor withered tree?
Long years we have enjoyed the luscious fruit it bare,
And tho’ it now has none, it still should claim our care.

Nor leaves nor fruit it yields, alas! the tree is dead:
Why blame thy fellow-birds, that they should all have fled?

They loved it for its fruit, and now that it has none,
Poor selfish fools! their love and gratitude is gone.

Thy gratitude I own, thy true and constant love,
Sure virtue such as this the wise will aye approve.

I offer thee, O bird, whate’er thou wilt for choice;
Tell me, I pray, what boon would most thy heart rejoice?

Would that this tree alight bear fresh leaves and fruit again;
I would be glad as they that treasure trove obtain.

Then was the tree by Sakka with ambrosia sprinkled o’er,
And boughs sprang up with cooling shade, as lovely as before.

May Sakka and all loved by Sakka blesséd be,
As I to-day am blest this joyous sight to see.

Thus was the tree made fruitful by the parrot's grateful choice,
And Sakka and his queen in groves of Nandana rejoice.


[496] The Master, his lesson ended, identified the Birth: "In those days Sakka was Anuruddha, the parrot king was myself."

Footnotes

294:1 See Vinaya, Pār. i. 1-4.

No. 431.

HĀRITA-JĀTAKA.

"Friend Hārita," etc.—This story the Master dwelling at Jetavana told concerning a discontented Brother. Now this Brother after seeing a smartly attired woman grew discontented and allowed his hair and nails to grow long, and wished to return to the world. And when he was brought against his will by his teachers and preceptors to the Master, and was asked by him, if it were true that he was a backslider, and if so why, he said, "Yes, your Reverence, it is owing to the power of sinful passion, after seeing a beautiful woman." [497] The Master said, "Sin, Brother, is destructive of virtue, and insipid withal, and causes a man to be re-born in hell; and why should not this sin prove your destruction? For the hurricane that smites Mount Sineru is not ashamed to carry off a withered leaf. But owing to this sin men who walk according to knowledge and wisdom, and have acquired the five Faculties and the eight Attainments, though they were great and holy men, being unable to fix their thoughts, fell away from mystic meditation." And then he told a story of the past.

Once upon a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born in a certain village in a brahmin family worth eighty crores, and from his golden complexion they called him Harittacakumāra (Young Goldskin). When he was grown up, and had been educated at Takkasilā, he set up as a householder, and on the death of his father and mother he made inspection of his treasures and thought, "The treasure only continues to exist, but they who produced it cease to exist: I too must be reduced to atoms by means of death," and alarmed by the fear of death he gave great gifts, and entering the Himālaya country he adopted the religious life, and on the seventh day he entered upon the Faculties and Attainments. There for a long time he lived on wild fruit and roots, and going down from the mountain to procure salt and vinegar, he in due course reached Benares. There he abode in the royal park, and on the next day in going his round for alms he came to the door of the king's palace. The king was so glad to see him that he sent for him and made him sit on the royal couch beneath the shade of the white umbrella, and fed him on all manner of dainties, and on his returning thanks the king being exceedingly pleased asked him, "Reverend Sir, where are you going?" "Great king, we are looking out for a dwelling-place for the rainy season." "Very well, Reverend Sir," he said, and after the early meal he went with him to the park, and had quarters both for the day and night built for him, and, assigning the keeper of the park as his attendant, he saluted him and departed. The Great Being from that time fed continually in the palace, and lived there twelve years.

Now one day the king went to quell a disturbance on the frontier, [498] and committed the Bodhisatta to the care of the queen, saying, "Do not neglect our "Field of Merit." Thenceforth she ministered to the Great Being with her own hands.
Now one day she had prepared his food, and as he delayed his coming, she bathed in scented water, and put on a soft tunic of fine cloth, and opening the lattice lay down on a small couch, and let the wind play upon her body. And the Bodhisatta later on in the day, dressed in a goodly inner and outer robe, took his alms-bowl and walking through the air came to the window. As the queen rose up in haste, at the rustling sound of his bark garments, her robe of fine cloth fell from off her. An extraordinary object struck upon the eye of the Great Being. Then the sinful feeling, that had been dwelling for countless aeons in his heart, rose up like a snake lying in a box, and put to flight his mystic meditation. Being unable to fix his thoughts he went and seized the queen by the hand, and forthwith they drew a curtain round them. After misconducting himself with her, he partook of some food and returned to the park. And every day thenceforth he acted after the same manner.
His misconduct was blazed abroad throughout the whole city. The king's ministers sent a letter to him, saying, "Hārita, the ascetic, is acting thus and thus."
The king thought, "They say this, being eager to separate us," and disbelieved it. When he had pacified the border country he returned to Benares, and after marching in solemn procession round the city, he went to the queen and asked her, "Is it true that the holy ascetic Hārita mis-conducted himself with you?" "It is true, my lord." He disbelieved her also, and thought, "I will ask the man himself," and going to the park he saluted him, and sitting respectfully on one side he spoke the first stanza in the form of a question:
Friend Hārita, I oft have heard it said
A sinful life is by your Reverence led;
I trust there is no truth in this report,
And thou art innocent in deed and thought?
[499] He thought, "If I were to say I am not indulging in sin, this king would believe me, but in this world there is no sure ground like speaking the truth. They who forsake the truth, though they sit in the sacred enclosure of the Bo tree, cannot attain to Buddhahood. I must needs just speak the truth." In certain cases a Bodhisatta may destroy life, take what is not given him, commit adultery, drink strong drink, but he may not tell a lie, attended by deception that violates the reality of things. Therefore speaking the truth only he uttered the second stanza:
In evil ways, great king, as thou hast heard,
Caught by the world's delusive arts, I erred.

Hearing this the king spoke the third stanza:
Vain is man's deepest wisdom to dispel
The passions that within his bosom swell.
Then Hārita pointed out to him the power of sin and spoke the fourth stanza:
There are four passions in this world, great king,
That in their power are over-mastering:
Lust, hate, excess and ignorance their name;
Knowledge can here no certain footing claim.
[500] The king on hearing this spoke the fifth stanza:
Endowed with holiness and intellect
The saintly Hārita wins our respect.
Then Hārita spoke the sixth stanza:
Ill thoughts, with pleasant vices if combined,
Corrupt the sage to saintliness inclined.
Then the king, encouraging him to throw off sinful passion, spoke the seventh stanza:
The beauty that from purest hearts doth shine
    Is marred by lust, born of this mortal frame;
Away with it, and blessings shall be thine,
    And multitudes thy wisdom shall proclaim.
Then the Bodhisatta recovered the power to concentrate his thoughts, and observing the misery of sinful desire, he spoke the eighth stanza:
Since blinding passions yield a bitter fruit,
All growth of lust I cut down to the root.
[501] So saying he asked the king's leave, and having gained his consent he entered his hermit hut, and fixing his gaze on the mystic circle he entered into a trance, and came forth from the hut, and sitting cross-legged in the air he taught the king the true doctrine and said, "Great king, I have incurred censure in the midst of the people by reason of my dwelling in a place where I ought not. But be thou vigilant. Now will I return to some forest free from all taint of womankind." And amidst the tears and lamentations of the king he returned to the Himālaya, and without falling away from mystic meditation he entered the Brahma world.

The Master knowing the whole story said:
Thus Hārita for truth right stoutly did contend,
And lust forsaking did to Brahma world ascend.
And having in his Perfect Wisdom spoken this stanza, he declared the Truths and identified the Birth:—At the conclusion of the Truths the worldly-minded Brother attained to Sainthood:—"At that time the king was Ānanda Hārita was myself."

 



 

Om Tat Sat
                                                        
(Continued...) 
 

(My humble salutations to Sreeman Professor E B Cowell ji and  H T Francis and R A Neil   for the collection)




No comments:

Post a Comment