THE JĀTAKA OR STORIES OF THE BUDDHA'S FORMER BIRTHS (Book - 4) -1

THE JĀTAKA

OR

STORIES OF THE BUDDHA'S FORMER BIRTHS

THE JĀTAKA

OR

STORIES OF THE BUDDHA'S

FORMER BIRTHS.

TRANSLATED FROM THE PĀLI BY VARIOUS HANDS

UNDER THE EDITORSHIP OF

PROFESSOR E. B. COWELL.

VOL. IV.

TRANSLATED BY

W. H. D. ROUSE, M.A.,

SOMETIME FELLOW OF CHRIST'S COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE.

LONDON

439. CATU-DVARA-JĀTAKA
About Mittavindaka, and how he was punished for covetousness.
440. KAṆHA-JĀTAKA
How an ascetic made wise choice of boons offered him by Sakka.
441. CATU POSATHIKA JĀTAKA

(See Puṇṇaka-jātaka.)

442. SAṀKHA-JĀTAKA
How a gift to a Pacceka Buddha was plenteously rewarded, and of the magic ship.
443. CULLA-BODHI-JĀTAKA
How an ascetic was free from all passion, and how he explained to a king the nature of passion.
444. KAṆHADĪPĀYANA-JĀTAKA
Of a number of persons who confessed their secret faults, and of the virtue of an Act of Truth.
445. NIGRODHA-JĀTAKA
How a low-born man became king by eating of a cock's flesh, and of the gratitude and ingratitude of friends shown according to their kind.
446. TAKKAḶA-JĀTAKA
How an ungrateful son planned to murder his old father, but when his own son overhearing showed him an object-lesson of his own ugliness, he was put to shame.

447. MAHĀ-DHAMMA-PĀLA-JĀTAKA
How a father refused to believe that his son was dead, because it was not the custom of his family to die young: this was the result of good living through many generations.
448. KUKKUṬA-JĀTAKA
How a falcon pretended to make friends with a fowl, but the other was not deceived.
449. MAṬṬA-KUṆḌALI-JĀTAKA
How one who mourned for his son was comforted.
450. BIḶĀRI-KOSIYA-JĀTAKA
How a niggard was cured by holy beings who pretended to choke at his food.
451. CAKKA-VĀKA-JĀTAKA
Of a crow and two ruddy geese, how they discoursed each of his own food, and what was the cause of their colours.
452. BHŪRI-PAÑHA-JĀTAKA

(Ummagga-jātaka.)

453. MAHĀ-MAṄGALA-JĀTAKA
Of the vanity of omens, and how goodness and kindness are omens of the best.
454. GHATA-JĀTAKA
How a girl was kept prisoner in a tower that she might wed no one, and how the attempt was defeated, of the magic city which was guarded by an ass, of the wild deeds of the Ten Slave Brethren, who became kings by right of conquest, and finally perished, and how a king was consoled for the loss of his beloved son.
455. MĀTI-POSAKA-JĀTAKA
How an elephant, too virtuous to resist, was captured, and how the king released him, touched by the love this elephant bore to his mother.
456. JUṆHA-JĀTAKA
How a prince made a promise which he fulfilled when he came into his kingdom.
457. DHAMMA-JĀTAKA
How Right and Wrong argued each his cause, and how Wrong had the worst of it.

458. UDAYA-JĀTAKA
How a king and queen had continence in wedlock, and how Sakka put the queen to the test, and how she was justified.
459. PĀNĪYA-JĀTAKA
How a villager stole water from his fellow-labourer's pot, and by meditating upon it became a Pacceka Buddha; and how others, pondering upon their sins, attained to the like result.
460.. YUVAÑJAYA-JĀTAKA
How a prince, by seeing the dewdrops, was led to meditate on the impermanency of all things, and retired from the world.
461. DASARATHA-JĀTAKA
How two princes with their sister went abroad to be out of harm's way, and dwelt in the mountains; how they bore the news of their father's death; how the eldest prince sent his slippers to take his own place on the throne, and how they gave token of displeasure if any wrong judgement were given.
462. SAṀVARA-JĀTAKA
How a prince by seeming modesty made friends of all manner of people, and the device whereby he pacified his brothers, who would have made war on him.
463. SUPPĀRAKA-JĀTAKA
How a blind mariner was made the king's assessor and valuer, and how he was pilot to a vessel, which traversed the perilous seas of fairy land.
464. CULLA-KUṆĀLA-JĀTAKA

(Kuṇāla-jātaka.)

465. BHADDA-SĀLA-JĀTAKA
How a sacred tree was to be cut down for a pillar, and the spirit of the tree appeared to the king, and by his unselfishness turned the king's purpose.
466. SAMUDDA-VĀṆIJA-JĀTAKA
How a body of carpenters settled in a certain island, and the island deities determined to overwhelm them with a flood; how the wise were saved, but the foolish remained and were all lost.
467. KĀMA-JĀTAKA
How a prince declined to be his father's viceroy, and proceeded to the frontier, which he won over by doing the people services, and then demanded the kingdom; and how Sakka gave him a lesson on his greed.

468. JANASANDHA-JĀTAKA
Ten points of wisdom explained to a prince.
469. MAHĀ-KAṆHA-JĀTAKA
How Sakka changed Mātali into a black hound, and sent him to frighten the world out of its evil ways.
470. KOSIYA-JĀTAKA

(Sudhābhojana-jātaka.)

471. MEṆḌAKA JĀTAKA

(Ummagga-jātaka.)

472. MAHĀ-PADUMA-JĀTAKA
How a queen tempted her step-son to sin, and on being refused pretended that he had tempted her, and how he was justified and the woman put to shame.
473. MITTĀMITTA-JĀTAKA
The signs of a friend and of a foe.
474. AMBA-JĀTAKA
How a man learnt a charm for growing fruit out of due season, and how he forgot it because he was false to his teacher.
475. PHANDANA-JĀTAKA
Of a lion which plotted to get a tree cut down, and how he was outwitted by the deity of the tree.
476. JAVANA HAṀSA-JĀTAKA
How a royal goose and a human king made fast friends; how the goose saved two foolish geese which flew a race with the sun, and of other his marvellous feats.
477. CULLA-NĀRADA-JĀTAKA
How an ascetic was tempted in the flesh, and how his father guided him by good counsel.
478. DŪTA-JĀTAKA
How a pupil got gold to pay his teacher withal by meditating upon a river bank.
479. KĀLIṄGA-BODHI-JĀTAKA
Of a prince who dwelt in a forest, and how he fell in love with a lady by seeing flowers which she dropt into a river; how the prince became universal monarch, and what befel him at the great bo-tree.

480. AKITTA-JĀTAKA
How a king distributed all his treasure in alms, and with his sister retired to the forest; how he went further, and his sister sought him.
481. TAKKĀRIYA-JĀTAKA
How a brahmin's wife was of lewd behaviour, and the husband would have killed her paramour, by sacrificing him in the foundation of a gate; how by talking too soon he nearly met this fate himself, but was admonished by a pupil who told him stories; of a young man who was ill entreated in a brothel, of a bird which came to grief by interfering in others' business, of four men who were killed in trying to save another, of a goat which found the knife that was to kill her, of two fairies who knew when to be silent. After these tales were told he saved the man's life.
482. RURU-JĀTAKA
Of a rich spend-all who cast himself away in the Ganges; how a deer saved him, and he repaid the service by betraying the deer to capture, but his aim was frustrated, and safety proclaimed for all deer.
483. SARABHA-MIGA-JĀTAKA
How a king went hunting, and in chasing after a stag which passed him fell into a pit and by the very stag was rescued; and how a chaplain put two and two together and made twenty.
484. SĀLIKEDĀRA-JĀTAKA
How a flock of parrots used to devour the rice crops, and how their king being caught in a snare, forbore to cry out until they had eaten, and what persuasion was used by which he got free again.
485. CANDA-KINNARA-JĀTAKA
Two fairies that dwelt on a beautiful hill, and how the husband was wounded and the wife made lament, until Sakka came to the rescue.
486. MAHĀ-UKKUSA-JĀTAKA
Of the value of friends, as shown in the story of a hawk whose nestlings were saved by the aid of an osprey, a lion, and a tortoise.
487. UDDĀLAKA-JĀTAKA
How a wise sage instructed a king what it is makes the true brahmin.
488. BHISA-JĀTAKA
Of a number of ascetics, and how Sakka tested them.

489. SURUCI-JĀTAKA
Two friends promise to wed their children together, if they should have one a daughter and the other a son; how the pair was childless, and the queen gave her lord sixteen thousand wives who had never a child among them; how Sakka rewarded the queen's virtue by granting a son to her; how Sakka built this prince a magical palace; how the prince could not laugh until a juggler did a merry trick before him.
490. PAÑC-ŪPOSATHA-JĀTAKA
Of a pigeon, a snake, a jackal, and a bear, which took on them the vows for subduing of desires; and an ascetic being unable for his pride to induce the mystic trance, reviled a Pacceka Buddha, but then in remorse took the vow for subduing pride, and was much edified by the pigeon, the snake, the jackal, and the bear.
491. MAHĀ-MORA-JĀTAKA
Of a holy peacock, gold-coloured, which chanted a hymn morning and evening, and how he was taken prisoner by yielding to fleshly desire, and how he discoursed to a queen and was set free.
492. TACCHA-SŪKARA-JĀTAKA
Of a clever boar which worked for a number of carpenters, and how he outwitted a tiger.
493. MAHĀ-VĀṆIJA-JĀTAKA
How some merchants found a magic tree, and what wonders came out of the branches: a lesson to eschew greed.
494. SĀDHĪNA-JĀTAKA
Of the effect of merit, and how it brings men to high felicity, and how it is gained.
495. DASA-BRĀHMAṆA-JĀTAKA
The marks by which you may know a good brahmin, and who are not rightly so called; and of the flowers which were thrown into the air, and fell on the Pacceka Buddhas in Himalaya.
496. BHIKKHĀ-PARAMPARA-JĀTAKA
Of precedence in gifts.
497. MĀTAṄGA-JĀTAKA
How a high and mighty maiden turned up her nose at a Caṇḍāla, but he by persistence got her to wife; how their son gave alms in a wrong spirit, and by what means he was brought to his right mind; also of an ascetic who was well schooled by the Caṇḍalā man; and the Caṇḍāla's glorious death.

498. CITTA -SAMBHŪTA-JĀTAKA
Of two men who were fast friends through many births: as Caṇḍālas, who pretended to be brahmins, but were betrayed by their speech; as young deer on the mountains; as a couple of ospreys by the Nerbudda; as lads of high birth in Uttarapañcāla, when one recognized the other by a hymn he sung.
499. SIVI-JĀTAKA
How a prince gave his own eyes as a gift, and his reward.
500. SIRIMANDA-JĀTAKA

(Mahā-ummagga-jātaka.)

501. ROHANTA-MIGA-JĀTAKA
Of a golden deer, who being caught in a trap, would not cry out for fear of scaring his fellows; how his friends stood by him; how he preached before the queen; and how he was set free.
502. HAṀSA-JĀTAKA
Of a golden goose which discoursed of the law, how he was caught, how the hunter's heart was softened to set him free, how he went before the king and prevailed with him also.
503. SATTIGUMBA-JĀTAKA
Evil communications corrupt good manners: a tale of two parrots of which one was good and one bad according to the company they kept.
504. BHALLĀṬIYA-JĀTAKA
Of two fairies, who could not cease grieving for one night they had been parted from each other, and how they were at length consoled.
505. SOMANASSA-JĀTAKA
How a sham ascetic traded upon knowledge which be gained by accident, and how he was found out by the king's son; of the device he used to calumniate the prince.
506. CAMPEYYA-JĀTAKA
Of a puissant serpent king, who left all his magnificence on the fast-days; how a serpent-charmer caught him, and made him dance for show.
507. MAHĀ-PALOBHANA-JĀTAKA
How prince Woman-hater was tempted to fall by a woman, and finally renounced the world.

508. PAÑCA-PAṆḌITA-JĀTAKA

(Mahā-ummagga-jātaka.)

509. HATTHI-PĀLA-JĀTAKA
How a king and his chaplain agreed that, if either of them had a son, he should be as a son to the other; how the chaplain had four sons, who grew up rough fellows and robbers, but finally in spite of all attempts to make each king in turn, they renounced the world.
510. AYOGHARA-JĀTAKA
How a queen lost two sons devoured up by a goblin, and how the third was protected by being kept in an iron house, and why he renounced the world

ADDITIONAL NOTES AND CORRECTIONS.

 

No. 443. Jātaka-Mālā no. 21, Cullabodhi.
          Cariyā-piṭaka no. 14, Cullabodhi.
No. 463. Jātaka-Mālā no. 14, Sapāraga.
No. 480. Jātaka-Mā1ā no. 7, Agastya.
          Cariyā-piṭaka no. 1, Akatti.
No. 482. Jātaka-Mālā no. 26, Ruru.
No. 483. Jātaka-Mālā no. 25, Çarabha.
No. 488. Jātaka-Mālā no. 19, Bisa.
          Cariyā-piṭaka no. 24, Bhisa.
No. 502. Jātaka-Mālā, no. 22, Haṁsa.
No. 510. Jātaka-Mālā no. 32, Ayogṛha.
           Cariyā-piṭaka no. 23, Ayoghara.
Page 125, line 26, for Teacher read Being.
Page 256, line 4 from foot, read Anuruddha.

BOOK X. DASA-NIPĀTA.

No. 439. 1

CATU-DVĀRA-JĀTAKA.

[1] "Four gates," etc.—This story the Master told at Jetavana, about a certain unruly person. The circumstances have been already set forth in the first Birth of the Ninth Book. 2 Here again the Master asked this brother, "Is it true, as they say, that you are disobedient?" "Yes, Sir." "Long ago," said he, "when by disobedience you refused to do the bidding of wise men, a razor-wheel was given to you." And he told a story of the past.

---

Once upon a time, in the days of the Buddha Kassapa, there dwelt in Benares a merchant, whose wealth was eighty crores of money, having a son named Mittavindaka. The mother and father of this lad had entered upon the First Path, but he was wicked, an unbeliever.
When by and bye the father was dead and gone, the mother, who in his stead managed their property, thus said to her son:—"My son, the state of man is one hard to attain 3; give alms, practise virtue, keep the holy day, give ear to the Law." Then said he, "Mother, no almsgiving or such like for me; never name them to me; as I live, so shall I fare hereafter." On a certain full-moon holy day, as he spoke in this fashion, his mother answered, "Son, this day is set apart as a high holy day. To-day take upon you the holy day vows; visit the cloister, and all night long listen to the Law, and when you come back I will give you a thousand pieces of money."
For desire of this money the son consented. As soon as he had broken his fast he went to the cloister, and there he spent the day; but at

night to the end that not one word of the Law should reach his ear [2] he lay down in a certain place, and fell asleep. On the next day, very early in the morning, he washed his face, and went to his own house and sat down.
Now the mother thought within herself, "To-day my son after hearing the Law will come back early in the morning, bringing with him the Elder who has preached the Law." So she made ready gruel, and food hard and soft, and prepared a seat, and awaited his coming. When she saw her son coming all alone, "Son," quoth she, "why have you not brought the preacher with you?"—"No preacher for me, mother!" says he. "Here then," quoth the woman, "you drink this gruel." "You promised me a thousand pieces, mother," he says, "first give this to me, and afterward I will drink." "Drink first, my son, and then you shall have the money." Quoth he, "No, I will not drink till I get the money." Then his mother laid before him a purse of a thousand pieces. And he drank the gruel, took the purse with a thousand pieces, and went about his business; and so thereafter, until in no long time he had gained two millions.
Then it came into his mind that he would provide a ship, and do business with it. So he provided a ship, and said to his mother, "Mother, I mean to do business in this ship." Said she, "You are my only son, and in this house there is plenty of wealth; the sea is full of dangers. Do not go!" But he said, "Go I will, and you cannot prevent me." "Yes, I will prevent you," she answered, and took hold of his hand; but he thrust her hand away, and struck her down, and in a moment he was gone, and under way.
On the seventh day, for cause of Mittavindaka, the ship stood immovable upon the deep. Lots were cast, and thrice was the lot found in the hand of Mittavindaka 1. Then they gave him a raft; and saying—"Let not many perish for the sole sake of this one," they cast him adrift upon the deep. In an instant the ship sprang forth with speed over the deep.
And he upon his raft came to a certain island. There in a crystal palace he espied four female spirits of the dead. [3] They used to be in woe seven days and seven in happiness. In their company he experienced bliss divine. Then, when the time came for them to undergo their penance, said they, "Master, we are going to leave you for seven days; while we are gone, bide here, and be not distressed." So saying they departed.
But he, full of longing, again embarked upon his raft, and passing over the ocean came to another isle; there in a palace of silver he saw

eight other spirits. In the same way, he saw upon another island, sixteen in a palace all of jewels, and on yet another, thirty-two that were in a golden hall. With these, as before, he dwelt in divine blessedness, and when they went away to their penance, sailed away once more over the ocean; till at last he beheld a city with four gates, surrounded by a wall. That, they say, is the Ussada Hell, the place where many beings, condemned to hell, endure their own deeds: but to Mittavindaka it appeared as though a city all beautiful. Thought he, "I will visit yon city, and be its king." So he entered, and there he saw a being in torment, supporting a wheel sharp as a razor; but to Mittavindaka it seemed as though that razor-wheel upon his head were a lotus bloom; the five-fold fetters upon his breast seemed as it were a splendid and rich vesture; the blood dripping from his head seemed to be the perfumed powder of red sandal wood; the sound of groaning was as the sound of sweetest song. So approaching he said, "Ho, man! Long enough you have been carrying that flower of lotus; now give it to me!" He replied, "My lord, no lotus it is, but a razor-wheel." "Ah," quoth the first, "so you say because you do not wish to give it" Thought the condemned wretch: "My past deeds must be exhausted. No doubt this fellow, like me, is here for smiting a mother. Well, I will give him the razor-wheel." Then he said, "Here then, take the lotus," and with those words cast the razor-wheel upon his head; and on his head it fell, crushing it in. In an instant [4] Mittavindaka knew that it was a razor-wheel, and says he, "Take your wheel, take back your wheel!" groaning aloud in his pain; but the other had disappeared.
At that moment the Bodhisatta with a great following was making a round through the Ussada Hell, and arrived at that spot. Mittavindaka, espying him, cried out, "Lord king of the Gods, this razor-wheel is piercing and tearing me like a pestle crushing mustard seeds! what sin have I committed?" and in asking this question he repeated these two stanzas:

"Four gates this iron city hath, where I am trapt and caught:
A rampart girds me round about: what evil have I wrought?
"Now fast are closed the city gates: this wheel destroyeth me:
Why like a caged bird am I caught? why, Goblin, should it be?"

Then the King of the Gods, to explain the matter to him, uttered these stanzas:

"An hundred thousand thou, good Sir, didst own, and twenty eke:
Yet to a friend thou wouldst not lend thine ear, when he would speak.

"Swift didst thou flee across the sea, a perilous thing, I ween;
The four, the eight, didst visit straight, and with the eight, sixteen,
"And with sixteen the thirty-two; and lust didst ever feel:
See now, the meed of utter greed upon thy head, this wheel.

"Who tread the highway of desire that spacious thoroughfare,
That highway great, insatiate,—’tis theirs this wheel to bear.

"Who will not sacrifice their wealth, nor to the Path repair,
Who do not know this should be so,—’tis theirs this wheel to bear.
[5] "Ponder the issue of thy deeds, and see
How great thy wealth, and do not crave to be
    Master of ill-got gains; what friends advise
Do,—and the wheel shall never come nigh thee."
[6] Hearing this, Mittavindaka thought to himself, "This son of the gods has explained exactly what I have done. No doubt he knows also the measure of my punishment." And he repeated the ninth stanza:

"How long, O Goblin, shall this wheel upon my head remain?
How many thousand years? reveal, nor let me ask in vain!"

Then the Great Being declared the matter in the tenth stanza:

"The wheel shall roll, and on shall roll, no saviour shall appear,
Fixt on thy head till thou be dead—O Mittavinda, hear!

Thus saying, the Divine Being returned to his own place, and the other fell into great misery.

---

The Master, having ended this discourse, identified the Birth:—"At that time the unruly Brother was Mittavindaka, and I myself was the king of the gods."

Footnotes

1:1 See Nos. 82, 104, 369; Avadāna-Çataka, iii. 6. (36), and Feer's note on p. 137 of that book.
1:2 No. 427, vol. iii. p. 287 of this translation.
1:3 Among the five gatis.
2:1 The reader will be reminded of the story of Jonah.

No. 440.

KAṆHA-JĀTAKA.

"Behold yon man," etc.—This story the Master told at Kapilavatthu, in the Banyan Park, about smiling.
[7] At that time they say that the Master, wandering afoot with his band of Brethren in the Banyan Park at evening time, at a certain spot gave a smile. Said Elder Ānanda, "What can be the cause, what the reason, that the Blessed One should smile? Not without cause do the Tathāgatas smile. I will ask him, then." So with a gesture of obeisance he asked of this smile. Then the Master said to him, "In days of yore, Ānanda, there was a certain sage, named Kaṇha, who on this spot of earth lived, meditative, in meditation his delight; and by power of his virtue Sakka's abode was shaken." But as this speech about the smile was not quite clear, at the Elder's request he told this story of the past.

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Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta ruled in Benares, there was a certain childless Brahmin, having wealth to the amount of eighty crores, who took upon him the vows of virtue, and prayed for a son; in the womb of this brahmin's wife was conceived the Bodhisatta, and from his black colour they gave him on his nameday the name of Kaṇha-kumāra, young Blackie. He at the age of sixteen years, being full of splendour, as it were an image of some precious stone, was sent by his father to Takkasilā, where he learnt all the liberal arts, and returned again. Then his father provided a wife meet for him. And by and bye he came in for all his parents' property.
Now one day, after inspecting his treasure houses, as he sat on his gorgeous divan, he took in his hand a golden plate, and reading upon the golden plate these lines inscribed by his kinsmen of former days, "So much of the property gained by such an one, so much by another," thought he, "Those who won this wealth are seen no more, but the wealth is still seen; not one of them could take it where he is gone; we cannot tie our wealth in a bundle and take it with us to the next world. Seeing that it is connected with the Five Sins, to distribute in alms this vain wealth is the better part; seeing that this vain body is connected with much disease, to show honour and kindness to the virtuous is the better part; seeing that this transient and vain life is but transient, to strive after spiritual insight is the better part. Therefore these vain treasures I will distribute in alms, that by so doing I may gain the better part." So he uprose from his seat, and having asked the king's consent, he gave alms bounteously.
Up to the seventh day [8] seeing no diminution in his wealth, he thought, "What is wealth to me? While I am yet unmastered by old age, I will even now take the ascetic vow, I will cultivate the Faculties and the Attainments, I will become destined for Brahma's heaven!" So he caused all the doors of his dwelling to be set open, and bade them take it all as freely given; and spurning it as a thing unclean, he forsook all desire of the eyes, and amid the lamentations and tears of a great multitude, went forth from the city, even unto the Himalaya region. There he embraced the solitary life; and seeking out for a pleasant place to dwell in, he found this place, and there he resolved to dwell; and choosing a gourd tree for his place of feeding, there he did abide, and lived at the root of that tree; lodging never within a village he became a dweller in the woods, never a hut of leaves he made, but abode at the foot of this tree, in the open air, sitting ever, or if he desired to lie, lying upon the ground, not a pestle but only teeth to grind his food with, eating only things uncooked by the fire, and never even a grain in the husk passed his lips, eating once in the day, and at one sitting. On the ground, as though he were one with 1 the four elements, he lived,

taking upon him the ascetic virtues 1. In that Birth the Bodhisatta, as we learn, had very few wants.
Thus ere long he attained the Faculties and the Attainments, and lived in that spot in the ecstasy of ecstatic meditation. For wild fruits he went no further afield; when fruit grew upon the tree, he ate the fruit; in time of flowers, he ate flowers; when the leaves grew, he ate leaves; when leaves there were none, he ate the bark of trees. Thus in the highest contentment he lived a long time in that place. As in the morning he used to pick up the fruits of that tree, never once even did he from greediness rise up and pick fruit in any other place. In the place where he sat, he stretched out his hand, and gathered all the fruit there was within the handsweep; these he would eat as they came, making no distinction between nice and nasty. As he continued to take pleasure in this, by the power of his virtue the yellowstone throne of Sakka grew hot. (This throne, they say, grows hot when Sakka's life draws towards its end, or when his merit is exhausted and worked out, [9] or when some mighty Being prays, or through the efficacy of virtue in priests or brahmins full of potency 2.)
Then Sakka thought, "Who is it would dislodge me now?" Surveying all around, he saw, living in a forest, in a certain spot, the sage Kanha, picking up fruit, and knew that yonder was the sage of dread austerity, all sense subdued; "To him will I go," thought he, "I will cause him to proclaim the Law in trumpet tones, and having heard the preaching that gives peace, I will satisfy him with a boon, and make his tree bear fruit unceasingly, and then I will return hither." Then by his mighty power quickly descending, and taking his stand at the root of that tree behind the sage, he said, by way of testing whether or no the sage would be angry at mention of his ugliness, the first stanza:

"Behold yon man, all black of hue, that dwells on this black spot,
Black is the meat that he doth eat—my spirit likes him not!"

Swart Kaṇha heard him. "Who is it speaks to me?—" by his divine insight he perceived that it was Sakka; and without turning, replied with the second stanza:

"Though black of hue, a brahmin true at heart, O Sakka, see:
Not by the skin, but if he sin, then black a man must be."

And then, after this, having explained in their several kinds and blamed the sins which make black such beings, and praised the goodness of virtue, [10] he discoursed to Sakka, and it was as though he made the moon to rise in the sky. Sakka at the hearing of his discourse, charmed and delighted, offered the Great Being a boon, and repeated the third stanza:

"Fair spoken, Brahmin, nobly put, most excellently said:
Choose what you will—as bids your heart, so let your choice be made."

Hearing this the Great Being thought thus within himself. "I know how it must be. He wished to test me, and see should I be wroth at mention of my ugliness; therefore he abused the colour of my skin, my food, my place of dwelling; perceiving that I was not angry, he is pleased, and offers me a boon; no doubt he thinks that I practise this manner of life through a desire for the power of Sakka or of Brahma; and now, to make him certain, I must choose these four boons: that I may be calm, that I may have within me no hatred or malice against my neighbour, and that I may have no greed for my neighbour's glory or lust towards my neighbour." Thus pondering, to resolve the doubt of Sakka, the sage uttered the fourth stanza, claiming these four boons:

"Sakka, the lord of all the world, a choice of blessings gave.
From malice, hatred, covetise, deliverance I would have,
And to be free from every lust: these blessings four I crave."

[11] Hereupon thought Sakka: "The sage Kaṇha, in choosing his boon, has chosen four most blameless blessings. Now I will ask him what is good or bad with these four things." And he asked the question by repeating the fifth stanza:

"In lust, in hatred, covetise, in malice, brahmin, say
What evil thing dost thou behold? this answer me, I pray."

"Hear then," replied the Great Being, and gave utterance to four stanzas:

"Because hatred, of ill-will bred, aye grows from small to great,
Is ever full of bitterness, therefore I want no hate.

"’Tis ever thus with wicked men: first word, then touch we see,
Next fist, then staff, and last of all the swordstroke flashing free:
Where malice is, there follows hate—no malice then for me.
"When men make speed egged on by greed, fraud and deceit arise,
And swift pursuit of savage loot—therefore, no covetise.
"Firm are the fetters bound by lust, that thrives abundantly
Within the heart, for bitter smart—no lusting then for me."
[13] Sakka, his questions thus solved, replied, "Wise Kaṇha, by you sweetly are my questions answered, with a Buddha's skill; well pleased

with you am I; now choose another boon" : and he repeated the tenth stanza:

"Fair spoken, brahmin, nobly put, most excellently said:
Choose what you will—as bids your heart, so let your choice be made."

Instantly the Bodhisatta repeated a stanza:

"O Sakka, lord of all the world, a boon thou didst me cry.
Where in the woods I ever dwell, where all alone dwell I,
Grant no disease may mar my peace, or break my ecstasy."

On hearing this, thought Sakka, "Wise Kaṇha, in choosing a boon, chooses no thing connected with food; all he chooses bears upon the ascetic life." Delighted ever more and more, he added thereto yet another boon and recited another stanza:

"Fair spoken, brahmin, nobly put, most excellently said:
Choose what you will—as bids your heart, so let your choice be made."

And the Bodhisatta, in stating of his boon, declared the law in the concluding stanza:
[14]

"0 Sakka, lord of all the world, a choice thou bidst declare:
No creature be aught harmed for me, O Sakka, anywhere,
Neither in body nor in mind: this, Sakka, is my prayer 1."

Thus the Great Being, on six occasions making choice of a boon, chose only that which pertained to the life of Renunciation. Well knew he that the body is diseased, and not Sakka can do away the disease of it; not with Sakka lies it to cleanse living beings in the Three Gates 2; albeit so, he made his choice to the end that he might declare the law to him. And Sakka made that tree bear fruit perennially, and saluting him by touching his head with joined hands 3, he said, "Dwell here ever free from disease," and went to his own place. But the Bodhisatta, never breaking his ecstasy, became destined for Brahma's world.

---

This lesson ended, the Master said, "This, Ānanda, is the place where I dwelt aforetime," and thus identified the Birth: "At that time Anuruddha was Sakka, and for myself, I was Kaṇha the Wise."

Footnotes

5:1 i.e. he had no more feeling than these.
6:1 See Childers, p. 123 a. These thirteen ascetic practices include living under a tree, living alone, living in the forest, sleeping in a sitting posture, mentioned already in the text.
6:2 The following is a curious parallel to this idea about Indra's throne: "The kings had a heritage at that time. When they did not know how to split justice properly, the judgement seat would begin to kick, and the king's neck would take a twist when he did not do justice as he ought." Campbell's Popular Tales of the West Highlands, ii. p. 159.
8:1 These lines occur in Milinda, p. 384.
8:2 Of Body, Speech, Mind: the three gates through which evil enters.
8:3 Reading patiṭṭhāpetvā, and in line 12 vyādhidhammaṁ.

No. 441.

CATU-POSATHIKA-JĀTAKA.

This Birth will be described in the Puṇṇaka Birth 1.

No. 442.

SAṄKHA-JĀTAKA.

[15] 2"O learned brahmin," etc.—This story the Master told in Jetavana, about the giving of all the requisites.
At Sāvatthi, it is said, a certain lay brother having heard the Tathāgata's discourse, being pleased at heart, gave an invitation for the morrow; at his door he set up a pavilion, richly dight, and sent to say that it was time. The Master came attended by five hundred Brethren, and sat in the gorgeous seat appointed for him. The layman, having made rich presents to the company of Brethren headed by the Buddha, bade them again for the morrow; and so for seven days he invited them, and offered gifts, and on the seventh gave them all a Brother's requisites. In this presentation he offered a special gift of shoes. The pair of shoes offered to the Buddha were worth a thousand pieces of money, those offered to the two Chief Disciples  3 were worth five hundred, and shoes to the value of an hundred were given to each of the five hundred Brethren who remained. And after this presentation made of all that the Brethren need, he sat down before the Blessed One, along with his company. Then the Master returned thanks in a voice of much sweetness: "Layman, most munificent is thy gift; be joyful. In olden days, ere the Buddha came into the world, there were those who by giving one pair of shoes to a Pacceka Buddha, in consequence of that gift found a refuge on the sea where refuge there is none; and thou hast given to the whole of Buddha's company all that a Brother can need—how can it be, but that thy gift of shoes should prove a refuge to thee?" and at his request, he told a story of the past.

---

Once upon a time, this Benares was named Molinī. While Brahmadatta reigned in Molinī as king, a certain brahmin Saṅkha, rich, of great wealth, had built almshalls in six places, one at each of the four city gates, one in the midst of it, one by his own door. Daily he gave in alms six hundred thousand pieces of money, and to wayfarers and beggars he did much bounty.

One day he thought to himself, "My store of wealth once gone, I shall have nothing to give. Whiles it is still unexhausted I will take ship, and sail for the Gold Country  1, whence I will bring back wealth." So he caused a ship to be built; filled it with merchandise; and said he, as he bade farewell to wife and child, [16] "Until I come again, see that you make no stay in distributing of alms." This said, he took up his sunshade, donned his shoes, and with his servants about him, setting his face towards the seaport, at midday he departed.
At that moment, a Pacceka Buddha on Mount Gandha-mādana, meditating, saw him on his way to get wealth, and thought he, "A great man is journeying to get wealth: will there be aught on the sea to hinder him, or no?—There will.—If he sees me he will present me with shoes and sunshade; and in consequence of this gift of shoes, he will find refuge when his vessel is wrecked upon the sea. I will help him." So passing through the air, he alighted not far from the traveller, and moved to meet him, treading the sand hot as a layer of burning embers in the fierce wind and sunshine. "Here," thought the brahmin, "is a chance of gaining merit; here I must sow a seed this day." In high delight he made haste to meet and greet him. "Sir," says he, "be so kind as to come aside from the road awhile, under this tree." Then as the man came in beneath the tree, he brushed up the sand for him, and spread his upper robe, and made him sit down; with water perfumed and purified he washed his feet, anointed him with sweet scented oil; from his own feet he took off the shoes, wiped them clean and anointed them with scented oil, and put them on him, and presented him with shoes and sunshade, bidding him wear the one, and spread the other overhead as he went his ways. The other, to please him, took the gift, and as the brahmin gazed upon him for the increase of his faith, flew up and went on his way again to Gandha-mādana.
The Bodhisatta on his part, glad at heart, proceeded to the harbour, and took ship.
When they were come to the high seas, on the seventh day the ship sprang a leak, and they could not bale the water clear. All the people in fear for their lives made a great outcry, calling each upon his own god 2. [17] The Great Being chose him one servitor, and anointing all his body with oil, ate a mess of powdered sugar with ghee as much as he desired, and giving the man to eat also, he climbed up the mast. "In that direction," said he, "lies our city"; pointing out the direction, and casting off all fear of the fish and turtles, he dived off with the man to a

distance of more than a hundred and fifty cubits. A multitude of men perished; but the Great Being, with his servant, began to make his way over the sea. For seven days he kept on swimming. Even then he kept the holy fast day, washing his mouth with the salt water.
Now at that time a divinity named Maṇi-mekhalā, which by interpretation is Jewel-zone, had been commanded by the four lords of the world, "If by shipwreck any ill befall men who have gone to the Three Refuges, or are endued with virtue, or who worship their parents, you should save them" ; and to protect any such, the deity took station upon the sea. In her divine power she kept no outlook for seven days, but on the seventh day, scanning the sea, she saw the virtuous brahmin Saṅkha, and thought she, "’Tis now the seventh day since yon man was cast into the sea: were he to die, great would be my blame." So troubled at heart the deity filled a golden plate full of all manner of divine meats, and hastening wind-swift towards him, came to a stop before him in mid-air, saying, "Seven days, brahmin, hast thou taken no food: eat this!" The brahmin looked at her, and replied, "Take thy food away, for I am keeping fast."
His attendant, who came behind, saw not the deity, but heard only the sound; and thought he, "The brahmin babbles, methinks, being of tender frame, and from his seven days' fasting, being in pain and in fear of death: I will comfort him." And he repeated the first stanza:

"O learned brahmin, full of sanctity,
Pupil of many a holy teacher, why
[18]     All out of reason dost vain babbling use,
When none is here, save me, to make reply?"

The brahmin heard, and knowing that he had not seen the deity, he said, "Good fellow, ’tis no fear of death; but I have another here to converse with me" ; and he repeated the second stanza:

"’Tis a fair radiant presence, gold-besprent,
That offers me food for my nourishment,
    All bravely set upon a plate of gold:
To her I answer No, with heart content."

Then the man repeated the third stanza:

"If such a wondrous being one should see,
A man should ask a blessing hopefully.
    Arise, beseech her, holding up claspt hands:
"Say, art thou human, or a deity?"

[19]"You say well," said the brahmin, and asked his question by repeating the fourth stanza:

"As thou beholdest me in kindly way
And "Take and eat this food" to me dost say,
    I ask thee, lady, excellent in might,
Art thou a goddess, or a woman, pray?"

Thereupon the deity repeated two stanzas:

"A goddess excellent in might am I;
And to mid-ocean hitherward did hie,
    Full of compassion and in heart well-pleased,
For thy sake come in this extremity.

"Here food, and drink, and place of rest behold,
Vehicles various and manifold;
    Thee, Saṅkha, I make lord of every thing
Which for desirable thy heart may hold."
On hearing this the Great Being thought it over. "Here is this deity (thought he), in the middle of the ocean, offering me this thing and that thing. Why does she wish to offer them to me? Is it for any virtuous act of mine, or by her own power, she does it? Well, I will ask the question." And he asked it in the words of the seventh stanza:

"Of all my sacrifice and offering
Thou art the queen, and thine the governing;
 1     Thou of fair slender waist, thou beauteous-browed:
What deed of mine hath brought to fruit this thing?"

[20] The deity listened to him, thinking, "This brahmin has put his question, I suppose, because he imagines I know not what good deed he has done. I will just tell him." So she told him, in the words of the eighth stanza:

"A solitary, on the burning way,
Weary and footsore, thirsty, thou didst stay,
    O brahmin Saṅkha, for a gift of shoon:
That gift thy Cow of Plenty is this day."

When the Great Being heard this, he thought to himself, "What! in this impracticable ocean the gift of shoes given by me has become a give-all to me! Ah, lucky was my gift to the Pacceka Buddha!" Then, in great contentment, he repeated the ninth stanza:

"A ship of planks well builded let there be,
Sped by fair winds, impervious to the sea;
    No place is here for other vehicle;
This very day take me to Molinī 2."

[21] The deity, well pleased at hearing these words, caused a ship to appear, made of the seven things of price; in length it was eight hundred cubits, in width six hundred cubits, twenty fathoms in depth; it had three masts made of sapphire, cordage of gold, silver sails, and of gold were also the oars and the rudders. This vessel the deity filled with the seven precious things; then embracing the brahmin, set him aboard the gorgeous ship. She did not notice the attendant; howbeit the brahmin

gave him a share of his own good fortune; he rejoiced, the deity embraced him also, and set him in the ship. Then she guided the ship to the city of Molinī, and having stored all this wealth in the brahmin's house, returned to her place of dwelling.

---

The Master, in his Perfect Wisdom, uttered the final stanza:

"She pleased, delighted, with a happy cheer,
A vessel marvellous caused to appear;
    Then, taking Saṅkha with his serving man,
To that most lovely city brought them near."

---

And the brahmin all his life long dwelt at home, distributing bounty without end, and observing virtue; and at the end of his days he with his man went to swell the host of heaven.

---

[22] When the Master had made an end of this discourse he declared the Truths:—now at the conclusion of the Truths the layman entered upon the First Path:—and he thus identified the Birth; "At that time Uppalavaṇnā was the deity, Ānanda was the attendant, and I myself was the Brahmin Saṅkha."

Footnotes

9:1 No such title occurs in the collection, nor in Westergaard's Catalogue.
9:2 Misprints on this page should be corrected: line 10 pañcasatagghanakā, 12 parikkhāradānaṁ, 14 anuppanne.
9:3 Sāriputta and Moggallāna.
10:1 Said to be the district of Burmah and Siam, "the Golden Chersonese." See Childers, p. 492.
10:2 Again the reader will be reminded of Jonah (i. 5). Compare also the scene in Erasmus' dialogue Naufragium.
12:1 In line 29 read subbhu suvilākamajjhe: cp. Schol.
12:2 Benares.

No. 443.

CULLA-BODHI-JĀTAKA. 1

"If one seize," etc.—This story the Master told in Jetavana, about a passionate man. This man, alter having become an ascetic, following the doctrine which leads to salvation with all its blessings, was unable to control his passion: passionate he was, full of resentment; but little said, and he grew angry, flew in a passion, was bitter and obstinate. The Master, hearing of his passionate behaviour, sent for him and asked, was it true that he was passionate, as rumour had it. "Yes, Sir," replied the man. "Brother," the Master said, "passion must be restrained; such an ill-doer has no place either in this world or the next. Why dost thou, after embracing the salvation of the Supreme Buddha, who knows not passion, why dost thou show thyself passionate? Wise men of old, even those who embraced a religion 2 other than ours, have refrained from anger." And he told him an old-world tale.

---

Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, there was in a certain town of Kāsi a brahmin rich, wealthy, and of great possessions, but he was childless; and his wife longed for a son. At that time the Bodhisatta, descending from Brahma's world, was conceived in the womb of that lady; and on his name-day they gave him the name of Bodhi-kumāra, or Wiseman. When he came of age he repaired to Takkasilā, where he studied all sciences; and after his home-coming, much against his will, his parents found him a damsel to wife from a family of the same caste. She too had descended to this world from the world of Brahma, and was of surpassing beauty, like a nymph. These two were married together, though they neither of them desired it. Never had either done any sin, and in the way of passion neither so much as cast a look at the other; never even in sleep had they done the deed of kind, so pure were they.
Now it happened that after a while, when his parents were dead, and he had decently disposed of their bodies, the Great Being calling his wife, said to her, "Now, lady, you [23] take this fortune of eighty crores, and live in happiness."—"Not so, but you, noble Sir." Said he, "Wealth I want none; I shall go to the region of Himalaya, and become a recluse, and there find a refuge."—"Well, noble Sir, is it men only that should live the ascetic life?" "No," said he, "but women also." "Then I will not take that which you spew out of your mouth; for wealth I care no more than you, and I, like you, will live a recluse."
"Very good, lady," said he. And they both distributed a great quantity of alms; and setting forth, in a pleasant spot they made a hermitage. There living upon any wild fruits which they could glean, they dwelt for ten whole years, yet did not attain to holy ecstasy.
And after living there in the happiness of the ascetic life for ten years, they traversed the country side to get salt and seasoning, and in due course came to Benares, where they abode in the royal park.
Now one day the king, espying the park-keeper who came with a present in his hand, said, "We will make merry in our park, therefore set it in order" ; and when the park was cleansed and made ready, he entered it along with a great retinue. At that time these two were also sitting in a certain part of the park, spending their time in the bliss of the religious life. And the king in passing through the park, perceived them both sitting there; and as his eye fell on this amiable and very beautiful lady, he fell in love. Trembling with desire, he determined to ask what she was to the ascetic; so approaching the Bodhisatta, he put the question to him. "Great king," he said, "she is nothing to me; she only shares my ascetic life, but when I lived in the world she was my wife." On hearing this the king thought within him, "So he says she is nothing to him. but in his worldly life she was his wife. Well, if I

seize her by my sovereign power what will he do? I will take her, then." And so coming near he repeated the first stanza:
[24]

"If one seize the large-eyed lady, and carry her off from you,
The dear one that sits there smiling, brahmin, what would you do?"

In answer to this question, the Great Being repeated the second stanza:

"Once risen, it never would leave me my life long, no, never at all:
As a storm of rain lays the dust again, quench it while yet it be small."

Thus did the Great Being make answer, loud as a lion's roar. But the king, though he heard it, was yet unable for blind folly to master his enamoured heart, and gave orders to one of his suite, "that he should take the lady into the palace." The courtier, obedient, led her away, in spite of her complaints and cries that lawlessness and wrong were the world's way. The Bodhisatta, who heard her cries, looked once but looked no more. So weeping and wailing she was conveyed to the palace.
And the King of Benares made no delay in his park, but quickly returned indoors, and sending for the woman, showed her great honour. And she spoke of the worthlessness of such honour, and the sole worth of the solitary life. The king, finding that by no means could he win her mind over, caused her to be placed in a room apart, and began to think, "Here is an ascetic woman who cares not for all this honour, and yon hermit never cast an angry look even when the man led away so beauteous a dame! Deep are the wiles of anchorites; he will lay a plot doubtless and work me some harm. [25] Well, I will return to him, and find out why he sits there." And so unable to keep still, he went into the park.
The Bodhisatta sat stitching his cloak. The king, almost alone, came up without sound of footfall, softly. Without one look at the king, the other went on with his sewing. "This fellow," thought the king, "will not speak to me because he is angry. This ascetic, humbug that he is, first roars out, "I will not let anger arise at all, but if it does, I will crush it while it is small," and then is so obstinate in wrath that he won't speak to me!" With this idea the king repeated the third stanza:

You that were loud in boasting only awhile ago,
Now dumb for very anger there you sit and sew!"

When the Great Being heard this, he perceived that the king thought him silent from anger; and desirous to show that he was not influenced by anger, repeated the fourth stanza:

"Once risen, it never had left me, it never would leave me at all:
As a storm of rain lays the dust again, I quenched it while it was small."

On hearing these words, the king thought, "Is it anger of which he

speaks, or some other thing? I will ask him." And he asked the question, repeating the fifth stanza:

"What is it that never has left you your life long, never at all?
As a storm of rain lays the dust again, what quenched you while it was small?"

[26] Said the other, "Great king, thus anger brings much wretchedness, and much ruin; it just began within me, but by cherishing kindly feelings I quenched it," and then he repeated the following stanzas to declare the misery of anger.

"That without which a man sees clearly, with which he goes blindly ahead,
Arose within me, but was not left free—anger, on foolishness fed.

"What causes our foes satisfaction, who wish to bring woes on our head,
Arose within me, but was not left free—anger, on foolishness fed.
"That which if it rises within us blinds all to our spiritual good,
Arose within me, but was not left free—anger, with folly for food.
"That which, supreme, destroys each great blessing,
Which makes its dupes forsake each worthy thing,
    Mighty, destructive, with its swarm of fears,—
Anger—refused to leave me, O great king!
"The fire will rise the higher, if the fuel be stirred and turned;
And because the fire uprises, the fuel itself is burned.
"And thus in the mind of the foolish, the man who cannot discern,
From wrangling arises anger, and with it himself will burn.
"Whose anger grows like fire with fuel and grass that blaze,
As the moon in the dark fortnight, so his honour wanes and decays.
"He who quiets his anger, like a fire that fuel has none,
As the moon in the light fortnight, his honour waxes well grown."
[27] When the king had listened to the Great Being's discourse, he was well pleased, and bade one of his courtiers lead the woman back; and invited the passionless recluse to stay with her in that park, in the enjoyment of their solitary life, and he promised to watch over them and defend them as he ought. Then asking pardon, he politely took leave. And they two dwelt there. By and bye the woman died, and after her death, the man returned to the Himalayas, and cultivating the Faculties and the Attainments, and causing the Excellences to spring up within him, he became destined for Brahma's heaven.

---

When the Master had ended his discourse, he declared the Truths, and identified the Birth;—(now at the conclusion of the Truths the passionate Brother became established in the fruit of the Third Path:)—"At that time Rāhula's mother was the ascetic lady, Ānanda was the king, and I myself was the ascetic."

Footnotes

13:1 Cf. Ananusociya-jātaka, No. 328, vol. iii. (Sammillabhāsini, which is an epithet in the first stanza here, is a proper name there, p. 64).
13:2 bāhiraāsane is doubtless a misprint for bāhirasāsane.

No. 444.

KAṆHADĪPĀYANA-JĀTAKA. 1

"Seven days," etc.—This story the Master told in Jetavana, about a certain backsliding brother. The occasion will be explained under the Kusa Birth 2. When the Master had enquired whether this report was true, and the man answered that it was true, [28] he said, "Brother, wise men in days long gone by, before the Buddha had arisen, even men who had entered upon an unorthodox religious life, for more than fifty years, walking in holiness without caring for it, from the scruples of a sensitive nature never told any one that they had backslidden; and why have you, who have embraced such a religion as ours, that leads to salvation, and who stand in presence of a venerable Buddha such as I am, why have you declared your backsliding before the four kinds of disciples? Why do you not preserve your scruples?" Thus saying, he told an old-world tale.

---

Once upon a time, in the kingdom of Vamsa, reigned in Kosambī 3 a king named Kosambika. At that time there were two brahmins in a certain town, each possessed of eighty crores, and dear friends one of the other; who, having perceived the mischief which lies in lust, and distributed much goods in almsgiving, both forsook the world, and amid the weeping and wailing of many people, departed to Himalaya, and there built them an hermitage. There for fifty years they lived as ascetics, feeding upon the fruits and roots of the forests where they might chance to glean them; but unto ecstasy they were unable to attain.
After these fifty years had passed by, they went on pilgrimage through the country side to get salt and seasoning, and came to the kingdom of Kāsi. In a certain town of this kingdom lived a householder named Maṇḍavya, who had been a lay friend in householder days of the ascetic Dīpāyana. To this Maṇḍavya came our two friends; who when he saw them, enraptured, built them a hut of leaves, and provided them both with the four necessaries of life. Three or four seasons they dwelt there, and then taking leave of him proceeded on pilgrimage to Benares, where they lived in a cemetery grown over with atimuttaka trees. When Dīpāyana had remained there as long as he wished, he returned to his old comrade again; Maṇḍavya the other ascetic still dwelt in the same place. 4

Now it happened that one day a robber had committed robbery in the town, and was returning from the fact with a quantity of spoil. The owners of the house, and the watchmen, aroused, set up a cry of "Thief!" and the thief, pursued by these, escaped through the sewer, and as he ran swiftly by the cemetery dropt his bundle at the door of the ascetic's hut of leaves. When the owners saw this bundle, they cried, "Ah, you rascal! [29] you are a robber by night, and in the daytime you go about in the disguise of an ascetic!" So, with reviling and blows, they carried him into the presence of the king.
The king made no enquiry, but only said, "Off with him, impale him upon a stake!" To the cemetery they took him, and lifted him up on a stake of acacia wood; but the stake would not pierce the ascetic's body. Next they brought a nimb stake, but this too would not pierce him: then an iron spike, and no more would that pierce his body. The ascetic wondered what past deed of his could have caused this, and surveyed the past; then there arose in him the knowledge of former existences, and by this as he surveyed the past he saw what he had done long ago; and this it was—the piercing of a fly upon a splinter of ebony.
It is said that in a former existence he had been the son of a carpenter. Once he went to the place where his father was wont to hew trees, and with an ebony splinter pierced a fly as if impaling it. And it was just this sin that found him out when he came to that supreme moment. He perceived that here then was no getting free from sin; so to the king's men he said, "If you wish to impale me, take a stake of ebony wood." This they did, and spitted him upon it, and leaving a guard to watch him they went away.
The watchmen from a place of concealment observed all that came to look upon him. Now Dīpāyana, thinking "It is long since I saw my comrade the ascetic," came to find him; and having heard that he had been hanging a whole day impaled by the roadside, he went up to him, and standing on one side, asked what he had done. "Nothing," quoth he. "Can you guard against ill feeling, or not?" asked the other. "Good friend," said he, "neither against those who have seized me, nor against the king, either, is there any ill feeling in my mind."—"If that is so, the shadow of one so virtuous is delightful to me," and with these words down he sat by the side of the stake. Then upon his body from the body of Maṇḍavya fell gouts of gore; and these as they fell upon the golden skin, and there dried, became black spots upon it; which gave him the name of Kaṇha or Black Dīpāyana from thenceforth. And he sat there all the night.
Next day the watchmen went and told the matter to the king. "I

have acted rashly," said the king; and with speed he hastened to the spot, [30] and asked Dīpāyana what made him sit by the stake. "Great king," answered he, "I sit here to guard him. But say, what has he done, or what left undone, that you treat him thus?" He explained that the matter had not been investigated. The other replied, "Great king, a king ought to act with circumspection; an idle layman who loves pleasure is not good, etc. 1," and with other such admonitions he discoursed to him.
When the king found that Maṇḍavya was innocent, he ordered the stake to be drawn out. But try as they would, out it would not come. Said Maṇḍavya, "Sire, I have received this dire disgrace for a fault done long ago, and it is impossible to draw the stake from my body. But if you wish to spare my life, bring a saw, and cut it off flush with the skin." So the king had this done; and the part of the stake within his body remained there. For on that previous occasion they say that he took a little piece of diamond, and pierced the fly's duct, so that it did not die then, nor until the proper end of its life; and therefore also the man did not die, they say.
The king saluted these ascetics, and craved pardon; and settling them both in his park, he looked after them there. And from that time Maṇḍavya was called Maṇḍavya with the Peg. And he lived in this place near the king; and Dīpāyana, after healing his friend's wound, went back to his friend Maṇḍavya the householder. When they saw him enter the leaf-hut, they told it to his friend. When he heard it, he was delighted; and with wife and child, taking plenty of scents, garlands, oil, and sugar, and so forth, he came to the leaf hut; greeting Dīpāyana, washing and anointing his feet, and giving him to drink, he sat listening to the tale of Maṇḍavya of the Peg. Then his son, a young man named Yañña-datta, was playing with a ball at the end of the covered walk. There a snake lived in an ant-hill. The lad's ball, thrown upon the ground, ran into the hole of the ant-hill and fell upon the snake. Not knowing this, the lad put his hand into the hole. The snake enraged bit the boy's hand; down he fell in a faint because of the strength of the snake's poison. [31] Thereupon his parents, finding their son snake-bitten, lifted him up and took him to the ascetic; laying him at the ascetic's feet, they said, "Sir, religious people know simples and charms; please cure our son."—"I know no simples; I do not ply the physician's trade."—"You are a man of religion. Have pity then, Sir, upon this lad, and do the Act of Truth." "Good," said the ascetic, "an Act of Truth I will do."And laying hands upon the head of Yañña-datta, he recited the first stanza:—

"Seven days serene in heart
    Pure I lived, desiring merit:
Since then, for fifty years apart,
    Self-absorbed, I do declare it,
Here, unwillingly, I live:
May this truth a blessing give:
Poison baulked, the lad revive!"

No sooner done this Act of Truth, out from the chest of Yañña-datta the poison came, and sank into the ground. The lad opened his eyes, and with a look at his parents, cried "Mother!" then turned over, and lay still. Then Black Dīpāyana said to the father, "See, I have used my power; now is the time to use yours." He answered, "So will I do an Act of Truth"; and laying a hand upon his son's breast, he repeated the second stanza:

"If for gifts I cared no jot,
    All chance comers entertaining,
[32] Yet still the good and wise knew not
    I was my true self restraining;
If unwillingly I give,
May this truth a blessing give,
Poison baulked, the lad revive!"

After the doing of this Act of Truth, out from his back came the poison, and sank into the ground. The lad sat up, but could not stand. Then the father said to the mother, "Lady, I have used my power; now it is yours by an Act of Truth to cause your son to arise and walk." Said she, "I too have a Truth to tell, but in your presence I cannot declare it." "Lady," quoth he, "by all and any means make my son whole." She answered, "Very well," and her Act of Truth is given in the third stanza:

"The serpent that bit thee to-day
    In yonder hole, my son,
And this thy father, are, I say,
    In my indifference, one:
May this Truth a blessing give:
Poison baulked, the lad revive!"

[33] No sooner done was this Act of Truth, than all the poison fell and sank into the ground; and Yañña-datta, rising with all his body purged of the poison, began to play. When the son had in this way risen up, Maṇḍavya asked what was in Dīpāyana's mind by the fourth stanza:

"They leave the world who are serene, subdued,
Save Kaṇha, all in no unwilling mood;
What makes thee shrink, Dīpāyana, and why
Unwilling walk the path of sanctity?"

To answer this, the other repeated the fifth stanza:

"He leaves the world, and then again turns back;
    "An idiot, a fool!" so might one think:—
      ’Tis this that makes me shrink,
Thus walk I holy, though the wish I lack,
    The cause why I do well, is this—
 1Praised of the wise the good man's dwelling is."

Thus having explained his own thought, he asked Maṇḍavya yet again in the sixth stanza:
[34]

"This thy house was like a mere 2,
    Food and drink in store supplying:
Sages, travellers, brahmins here
    Thirst and hunger satisfying.
Didst thou fear some scandal, still
Giving, yet against thy will?"

Then Maṇḍavya explained his thoughts by the seventh stanza:

"Sire and grandsire holy were,
    Lords of gifts most free in giving;
And I followed with all care
    Our ancestral way of living;
Lest degenerate I should be
I gave gifts unwillingly."

After saying this, Maṇḍavya asked his wife a question in the words of the eighth stanza:
[35]

"When, a young girl, with undeveloped sense,
    I brought thee from thy home to be my wife,
Thou didst not tell me thy indifference,
    How without love thou livedst all thy life.
Then why, O fair-limbed lady, didst thou stay
And live with me in this unloving way?"

And she replied to him by repeating the ninth. stanza:

"’Tis not the custom in this family
    For wedded wife to take a newer mate,
Nor ever has been; and this custom I
    Would keep, lest I be called degenerate.
T’was fear of such report that bade me stay
And live with thee in this unloving way."

[36] But when this was said, a thought passed through her mind "My secret is told to my husband, the secret never told before! He will be angry with me; I will crave pardon in the presence of this ascetic, our confidant." And to this end she repeated the tenth stanza:

"Now I have spoken what should be unsaid:
For our son's sake may it be pardoned.
    Stronger than parents' love is nothing here;
Our Yañña-datta lives, who was but dead!"

"Arise, lady," said Maṇḍavya, "I forgive you. Henceforth do not be hard to me; I will never grieve you." And the Bodhisatta said, addressing Maṇḍavya, "In gathering ill-gotten gains, and in disbelieving that when you give liberally, the deed is a seed that brings fruit, in this you have done wrong. For the future believe in the merit of gifts, and give them. "This the other promised, and in his turn said to the Bodhisatta, "Sir, you have yourself done wrong in accepting our gifts when walking the path of holiness against your will. Now in order that your deeds may bear abundant fruit, do you for the future walk in holiness with a tranquil heart and pure, full of ecstatic joy." Then they took leave of the Great Being and departed.
From that time forward the wife loved her husband; Maṇḍavya with tranquil heart gave gifts with faith; the Bodhisatta, dispelling his unwillingness, cultivated the ecstatic Faculty, and became destined for Brahma's heaven.

---

This discourse ended, the Master declared the Truths: (now at the conclusion of the Truths the backslider was established in the fruit of the First Path:) and identified the Birth:—"At that time Ānanda was Maṇḍavya, [37] Visākhā the wife, Rāhula the son, Sāriputta was Maṇḍavya of the Peg, and I was myself Black Dīpāyana."

Footnotes

17:1 See Grimblot's Sept Suttas Palies. This story, with the first stanza, is briefly given in the Cariyā-Piṭaka, p 99f.
17:2 No. 531.
17:3 On the Ganges.
17:4 In this confusing tale, Maṇḍavya is the name of one of the ascetics and also of the householder, Dīpāyana is the name of the other ascetic.
19:1 See vol. iii., p. 70.
21:1 Or, Praised of the wise and good religion is.
21:2 The word may possibly mean public-house: either is a "drinking place" (avapāna).

Om Tat Sat
                                                        
(Continued...) 

(My humble salutations to Sreeman Professor E B Cowell ji and  W H D Rouse ji for the collection)