THE JĀTAKA
OR
STORIES OF THE BUDDHA'S FORMER BIRTHS
No. 334.
RĀJOVĀDA-JĀTAKA.
[110] "The bull through floods," etc.—This story was told by the Master when at Jetavana concerning the admonition of a king. The introductory story will be found in full in the Tesakuṇa Birth. 1 But in this version of it the Master said, "Kings of old, Sire, hearkening to the words of the wise, bare rule justly and attained to the heavenly world." And at the request of the king he told a story of the olden times.The king did so, and asked the Bodhisatta, "Why, Reverend Sir, is this ripe fig so exceedingly sweet?"
"Your Excellency," he replied, "the king now exercises his rule with justice and equity. That is why it is so sweet."
[111] "In the reign of an unjust king, does it lose its sweetness, Sir?"
"Yes, Your Excellency, in the time of unjust kings, oil, honey, molasses and the like, as well as wild roots and fruits, lose their sweetness and flavour, and not these only but the whole realm becomes bad and flavourless; but when the rulers are just, these things become sweet and full of flavour, and the whole realm recovers its tone and flavour."
The king said, "It must be so, Reverend Sir," and without letting him know that he was the king, he saluted the Bodhisatta and returned to Benares. And thinking to prove the words of the ascetic, he ruled unjustly, saying to himself, "Now I shall know all about it," and after the lapse of a short time he went back and saluting the Bodhisatta, sat respectfully on one side. The Bodhisatta using exactly the same words, offered him a ripe fig, which proved to be bitter to his taste. Finding it to be bitter he spat it out, saying, "It is bitter, Sir."
Said the Bodhisatta, "Your Excellency, the king must be unjust, for when rulers are unjust, everything beginning with the wild fruits in the wood, lose all their sweetness and flavour." And hereupon he recited these stanzas:—
The bull through floods a devious
course will take,
The herd of kine all straggling in his wake:
So if a leader tortuous paths pursue,
To base ends will he guide the vulgar crew,
And the whole realm an age of license rue.
But if the bull a course direct should steer,The herd of kine all straggling in his wake:
So if a leader tortuous paths pursue,
To base ends will he guide the vulgar crew,
And the whole realm an age of license rue.
The herd of kine straight follow in his rear.
So should their chief to righteous ways be true,
The common folk injustice will eschew,
And through the realm shall holy peace ensue.
[112] The king after hearing the Bodhisatta's exposition of the Truth, let him know he was the king and said, "Holy Sir, formerly it was due to me alone that the figs were first sweet and then bitter, but now I will make them sweet again." Then he saluted the Bodhisatta and returned home, and ruling righteously restored everything to its original condition.
Footnotes
73:1 No. 521, Vol. v.No. 335.
JAMBUKA-JĀTAKA.
"Jackal beware," etc.—This story was told by the Master while dwelling in the Bamboo Grove, about the attempt of Devadatta to imitate the Buddha. The incident that gave rise to the story has been told in full before. 1 Here is a short summary of it.When the Master asked Sāriputta what Devadatta did when he saw him, the Elder replied, "Sir, in taking you off he put a fan in my hand and lay down, and then Kokālika struck him on the breast with his knee: and so in taking you off he got into trouble." The Master said, "This happened to Devadatta before," and being pressed by the Elder, he told an old-world legend.
The lion said, "What is the meaning of this, Mr. Jackal?"
"Sir," he said, "I would be your servant."
The lion said, "Well, come on then," and conducting him to the place where he dwelt, he day by day brought him meat and fed him. When the jackal had grown fat on the lion's broken meat, one day a feeling of pride sprang up in him, and he drew nigh to the lion, and said, "My lord, I am ever a hindrance to you. You constantly bring me meat and feed me. To-day do you remain here. I will go and slay an elephant, and after eating my fill will bring some meat to you." Said the lion, "Friend jackal, let not this seem good in your eyes. You are not sprung from a stock that feeds on the flesh of the elephants that it kills. I will kill an elephant and bring its flesh to you. The elephant surely is big of body. Do not undertake what is contrary to your nature, but hearken to my words." And hereupon he spoke the first stanza:—
Jackal, beware!
His tusks are long.
One of thy puny race
Would scarcely dare
So huge and strong
A beast as this to face.
The jackal, though forbidden by the lion, issued forth from the
cave and thrice uttered the cry of a jackal. And looking to the base of the
mountain, he spied a black elephant moving below, and thinking to fall on his
head he sprang up and turning over in the air fell at the elephant's feet. The
elephant lifting up his fore foot planted it on the jackal's head and smashed
his skull to pieces. [114] The jackal lay there groaning, and the elephant went
off trumpeting. The Bodhisatta came and standing on the top of the precipice
saw how the jackal had met his death, and said, "Through his pride was
this jackal slain," and uttered three stanzas:—His tusks are long.
One of thy puny race
Would scarcely dare
So huge and strong
A beast as this to face.
A jackal once assumed the lion's pride,
And elephant as equal foe defied.
Prone on the earth, while groans his bosom rent,
He learned the rash encounter to repent.
And elephant as equal foe defied.
Prone on the earth, while groans his bosom rent,
He learned the rash encounter to repent.
Who thus should challenge one of
peerless fame,
Nor mark the vigour of his well-knit frame,
Shares the sad fate that on the jackal came.
But who the measure of his own power knows,Nor mark the vigour of his well-knit frame,
Shares the sad fate that on the jackal came.
And nice discretion in his language shows,
True to his duty lives and triumphs o’er his foes.
[115] Thus did the Bodhisatta in these stanzas declare the duties proper to be done in this world.
Footnotes
74:1 See No. 204, Vol. ii.No. 336.
BRAHĀCHATTA-JĀTAKA.
"Grass is still," etc.—This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, of a certain rogue. The incident that suggested the story has been already related.One day he addressed his company of holy men and asked them, saying, "Sirs, why do you not go to the central region?"
"Sir," they said, "in the central region are said to be living wise men. [116] They pose one with questions, call upon one to return thanks and to repeat a form of blessing, and reprove the incompetent. And therefore we are afraid to go there."
"Fear not," he said, "I will manage all this for you."
"Then we will go," they said. And all of them taking their various requisites in due course reached Benares. Now the king of Benares, having got all the kingdom of Kosala into his possession, set up loyal officials as governors, and himself, having collected all their available treasure, returned with his spoil to Benares. And filling iron pots with it, he buried them in the royal garden, and then continued to live there. So these holy men spent the night in the king's garden, and on the morrow went into the city to beg alms, and came to the door of the palace. The king was so charmed with their deportment that he called them up and made them sit on the dais and gave them rice and cakes, and till it was their meal-time asked them such and such questions. Chatta won the king's heart by answering all his questions, and at the close of the meal he offered up various forms of thanksgiving. The king was still more pleased, and exacting a promise from them he made them all stay in his garden.
Now Chatta knew a spell for bringing to light buried treasure, and while dwelling there he thought, "Where can this fellow have put the money which belonged to my father?" So repeating the spell and looking about him he discovered that it was buried in the garden. And thinking that with this money he would recover his kingdom also, he addressed the ascetics and said, "Sirs, I am the son of the king of Kosala. When our kingdom was seized by the king of Benares, I escaped in disguise, and so far I have saved my life. But now I have got the property which belonged to my family. With this will I go and recover my kingdom. What will you do?"
"We too will go with you," they replied.
"Agreed," he said, and had some big leather sacks made, and at night digging a hole in the ground he pulled out the treasure-pots, [117] and putting the money into the sacks he had the pots filled with grass. Then he ordered the five hundred holy men and others as well to take the money, and fled to Sāvatthi. There he had all the king's officers seized, and recovering his kingdom he restored the walls, watch-towers and other works, and having thus made the city impregnable against the attack of any hostile king, he took up his abode there. It was told to the king of Benares, "The ascetics have carried off the treasure from your garden and are fled." He went to the garden and opening the pots found only grass in them. And by reason of his lost treasure great sorrow fell upon him. Going to the city he wandered about murmuring, "Grass, grass," and no one could assuage his grief, Thought the Bodhisatta, "The king is in
great trouble. He wanders to and fro, idly chattering. Except myself, no one has the power to drive away his sorrow. I will free him from his trouble." So one day while seated quietly with him, when the king began to chatter, he repeated the first stanza:
"Grass" is still thy constant
cry;
Who did take thy grass away?
What thy need of it, or why
Dost thou this word only say?
The king, on hearing what he said, replied in a second stanza:Who did take thy grass away?
What thy need of it, or why
Dost thou this word only say?
Chatta, holy man of fame,
As it happened this way came:
Him alone to blame I hold,
Substituting grass for gold.
[118] The Bodhisatta, on hearing this, uttered a third stanza:As it happened this way came:
Him alone to blame I hold,
Substituting grass for gold.
Canny folk their rule should make,
"Little give and mickle take."
What he took was all his own,
What he left was grass alone.
On hearing this the king uttered the fourth stanza:"Little give and mickle take."
What he took was all his own,
What he left was grass alone.
Virtue follows no such rules,
These are morals fit for fools.
Doubtful morals they must be,
Learning too is vanity.
While he thus blamed Chatta, the king by these words of the
Bodhisatta was freed from his sorrow and ruled his kingdom righteously.These are morals fit for fools.
Doubtful morals they must be,
Learning too is vanity.
No. 337.
PĪṬHA-JĀTAKA.
"Alas! we offered thee," etc.—This story the Master told while living at Jetavana, about a certain Brother. He came, it was said, from the country to Jetavana, and, after putting away his bowl and robe, he saluted the Master and inquired of the young novices, saying, "Sirs, who look after the stranger Brethren that come to Sāvatthi?" [119] "The Treasurer Anāthapiṇḍika," they said, "and the great and holy lay sister Visākhā look after the order of the Brethren, and stand in the place of father and mother to them." "Very good,"he said, and next day quite early, before a single brother had entered the house, he came to Anāthapiṇḍika's door. From his having come at an unseasonable hour there was no one to attend to him. Without getting anything there he went off to the door of Visākhā's house. There also from having come too early, he got nothing. After wandering hither and thither he came back, and finding the rice-gruel was all finished, he went off. Again he wandered about hither and thither, and on his return, finding the rice all finished, he went back to the monastery, and said, "The brethren here speak of these two families as faithful believers, but both of them really are without faith and unbelievers." Thus did he go about abusing these families. So one day they started a discussion in the Hall of Truth, how that a certain Brother from the country came to the door of certain households too early, and failing to obtain alms went about reviling those families. When the Master came and inquired what was the topic the Brethren were sitting to discuss, on hearing what it was, he called the Brother and asked him if it were true. When the Brother said, "Yes, your Reverence, it is true," the Master asked, "Why are you angry, Brother? Of old, before Buddha arose upon the world, even ascetics when they visited a household and received no alms, showed no anger." And with this he told a story of the olden days.
Then the merchant who was returning from the palace saw him, [120] and saluting him took his alms-bowl and led him to his house. There he offered him a seat and comforted him with the washing and anointing of his feet, and with rice, cakes and other food, and in the course of his meal he asked him one thing and another, and after he had finished eating, he saluted him and sitting respectfully on one side, he said, "Reverend Sir, strangers who have come to our doors, whether beggars or holy priests or brahmins, have never before gone away without receiving marks of honour and respect, but to-day owing to your not being seen by our retainers, you have gone away without being offered a seat, or water to drink, and without having your feet washed, or rice and gruel given you to eat. This is our fault. You must forgive us in this." And with these words he uttered the first stanza:
Alas! we
offered thee no seat,
No water brought, nor anything to eat:
We here confess our sinfulness,
And pardon humbly, Holy Sir, entreat.
No water brought, nor anything to eat:
We here confess our sinfulness,
And pardon humbly, Holy Sir, entreat.
The Bodhisatta on hearing this repeated the second stanza:
Nought have I to condone,
No anger do I feel,
The thought just once I own
Across my mind did steal,
"Habits of people here
Are just a trifle queer."
The merchant hearing this responded in two more stanzas:No anger do I feel,
The thought just once I own
Across my mind did steal,
"Habits of people here
Are just a trifle queer."
The custom of our family—’twas so
Received by us from ages long ago—
Is to provide the stranger with a seat,
Supply his needs, bring water for his feet
And every guest as kinsman dear to treat.
[121] And the Bodhisatta, after sojourning there a few days, and
teaching the merchant of Benares his duty, went straight back to the Himālayas,
where he developed all the Faculties and Attainments.Received by us from ages long ago—
Is to provide the stranger with a seat,
Supply his needs, bring water for his feet
And every guest as kinsman dear to treat.
No. 338.
THUSA-JĀTAKA.
"With sense so nice," etc.—This story was told by the Master while living in the Bamboo Grove, of prince Ajātasattu. At the time of his conception there arose in his mother, the daughter of the king of Kosala, a chronic longing to drink blood from the right knee of king Bimbisāra 1 (her husband). Being questioned by her attendant ladies, she told them how it was with her. The king too hearing of it called his astrologers and said, "The queen is possessed of such and such a longing. What will be the issue of it?" The astrologers said, "The child conceived in the womb of the queen will kill you and seize your kingdom." "If my son," said the king, "should kill me and seize my kingdom, what is the harm of it?" And then he had his right knee opened with a sword and letting the blood fall into a golden dish gave it to the queen to drink. She thought, "If the son that is born of me should kill his father, what care I for him? " and endeavoured to bring about a miscarriage. [122] The king hearing of it called her to him and said, "My dear, it is said, my son will slay me and seize my kingdom.But I am not exempt from old age and death: suffer me to behold the face of my child. Henceforth act not after this manner." But she still went to the garden and acted as before. The king on hearing of it forbade her visits to the garden, and when she had gone her full time she gave birth to a son. On his naming-day, because he had been his father's enemy, while still unborn, they called him prince Ajātasattu. As he grew up with his princely surroundings, one day the Master accompanied by five hundred Brethren came to the king's palace and sat down. The assembly of the Brethren with Buddha at their head was entertained by the king with choice food, both hard and soft. And after saluting the Master the king sat down to listen to the law. At this moment they dressed up the young prince and brought him to the king. The king welcomed the child with a strong show of affection and placed him on his lap, and fondling the boy with the natural love of a father for his child, he did not listen to the law. The Master observing his inattention said, "Great king, formerly kings when suspicious of their sons had them kept in a secret place, and gave orders that at their death they were to be brought forth and set upon the throne." And at the request of the king he told him a legend of the olden time.
The prince readily assented to this and saluting his teacher went away. And after acting as viceroy, on his father's death he ascended the throne. His son, when he was sixteen years of age, on the king's going forth to take his pleasure in the garden, observing his father's majesty and power was filled with a desire to kill him and seize upon his kingdom, and spoke to his attendants about it. They said, "True, Sir, what is the good of obtaining power, when one is old? You must by some means or other kill the king and possess yourself of his kingdom." The prince said, "I will kill him by putting poison in his food." So he took some poison and sat down to eat his evening meal with his father. The king, when the rice was just served in the bowl, spoke the first stanza:
With sense so nice, the husks from rice
Rats keen are to discriminate:
They cared not much the husks to touch,
But grain by grain the rice they ate.
Rats keen are to discriminate:
They cared not much the husks to touch,
But grain by grain the rice they ate.
"I am discovered," thought the prince, and not daring to administer the poison in the bowl of rice, he rose up and bowing to the king went away. He told the story to his attendants and said, "To-day I am found out. How now shall I kill him?" From this day forth they lay concealed in the garden, and consulting together in whispers said, "There is still one expedient. When it is time to attend the great levée, gird on your sword, and taking your stand amongst the councillors, when you see the king off his guard, you must strike him a blow with your sword and kill him." Thus they arranged it. The prince readily agreed, and at the time of the great levée, he girt on his sword [124] and moving about from place to place looked out for an opportunity to strike the king. At this moment the king uttered the second stanza:
The secret counsel taken in the wood
By me is understood:
The village plot soft whispered in the ear
That too I hear.
Thought the prince, "My father knows that I am his
enemy," and ran away and told his attendants. After the lapse of seven or
eight days they said, "Prince, your father is ignorant of your feeling
towards him. You only fancy this in your own mind. Put him to death." So
one day he took his sword and stood at the top of the stairs in the royal
closet. The king standing at the head of the staircase spoke the third stanza:By me is understood:
The village plot soft whispered in the ear
That too I hear.
A monkey once did cruel measures take
His tender offspring impotent to make.
Thought the prince, "My father wants to seize me," and
in his terror he fled away and told his attendants he had been threatened by
his father. After the lapse of a fortnight they said, "Prince, if the king
knew this, he would not have put up with it so long a time. Your imagination
suggests this to you. [125] Put him to death." So one day he took his
sword and entering the royal chamber on the upper floor of the palace he lay
down beneath the couch, intending to slay the king, as soon as he came. At the
close of the evening meal, the king sent his retinue away, wishing to lie down,
and entering the royal chamber, as he stood on the threshold, he uttered the
fourth stanza:His tender offspring impotent to make.
Thy cautious
creeping ways
Like one-eyed goat in mustard field that strays,
And who thou art that lurkest here below,
This too I know.
Thought the prince, "My father has found me out. Now he will
put me to death." And seized with fear he came out from beneath the couch,
and throwing down his sword at the king's feet and saying, "Pardon me, my
lord," he lay grovelling before him. The king said, "You thought, noLike one-eyed goat in mustard field that strays,
And who thou art that lurkest here below,
This too I know.
one knows what I am about." And after rebuking him he ordered him to be bound in chains and put into the prison house, and set a guard over him. Then the king meditated on the virtues of the Bodhisatta. And by and bye he died. When they had celebrated his funeral rites, they took the young prince out of prison and set him on the throne.
Footnotes
80:1 Compare Tibetan Tales vi. Prince Jīvaka.No. 339.
BĀVERU-JĀTAKA.
"Before the crested peacock," etc.—This story was told by the Master when at Jetavana, of certain heretics who lost their former gains and glory. For the heretics who before the Birth of Buddha received gain and honour, lost the same at his Birth, becoming like fireflies at sunrise. Their fate was discussed in the Hall of Truth. When the Master came and inquired what was the topic the Brethren were discussing in their assembly, on being told what it was, he said, "Brethren, not now only, but formerly too, before the appearance of those endowed with virtue, such as were without virtue attained to the highest gain and glory, but when those who were endowed with virtue appeared, such as were devoid of it lost their gain and glory." And with this he told a legend of bygone days."Then take it," they said, "at a price."
"Give it us for a single piece of money," they said.
"We will not sell it for that," said the merchants.
[127] Gradually increasing their offer the people said, "Give it us for a hundred pieces of money."
"It is very useful," they replied, "to us, but let there be friendship between us and you." And they sold it for one hundred pieces.
The natives took it and put it in a golden cage and fed it with various kinds of fish and meat and wild fruits. In a place where no other birds existed, a crow endowed with ten evil qualities attained the highest gain and glory. The next time these merchants came to the kingdom of Bāveru, they brought a royal peacock which they had trained to scream at the snapping of the fingers and to dance at the clapping of the hands. When a crowd had gathered together, the bird stood in the fore part of the vessel, and flapping its wings uttered a sweet sound and danced.
The people that saw it were highly delighted and said, "This king of birds is very beautiful and well-trained. Give it to us."
The merchants said, "We first brought a crow. You took that. Now we have brought this royal peacock and you beg for this too. It will be impossible to come and even mention the name of any bird in your country."
"Be content, Sirs," they said, "give this bird to us and get another in your own land."
And raising the price offered they at last bought it for a thousand pieces. Then they put it in a cage ornamented with the seven jewels and fed it on fish, flesh and wild fruits, as well as with honey, fried corn, sugar-water and the like. Thus did the royal peacock receive the highest gain and glory. From the day of his coming, the gain and honour paid to the crow fell off. And no one wanted even to look at it. The crow no longer getting food either hard or soft, with a cry of "Caw, caw," went and settled on a dunghill.
[128]
Before the crested peacock had appeared,
Crows were with gifts of fruit and meat revered:
The sweet-voiced peacock to Bāveru came,
The crow at once was stripped of gifts and fame.
So man to divers priests due honour paid,Crows were with gifts of fruit and meat revered:
The sweet-voiced peacock to Bāveru came,
The crow at once was stripped of gifts and fame.
Till Buddha the full light of Truth displayed:
But when the sweet-voiced Buddha preached the law,
From heretics their gifts and praise all men withdraw.
After uttering these four stanzas, he thus identified the Birth: "At that time the Jain Nāthaputta was the crow, and I myself was the royal peacock."
No. 340.
VISAYHA-JĀTAKA. 1
"Of old, Visayha," etc.—This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana of Anāthapiṇḍika. The incident that gave rise to the story has been already told in full in the Khadiraṅgāra Birth. 2 On this occasion the Master addressing Anāthapiṇḍika said, "Wise men of old, my lay brother, gave alms, rejecting the counsel of Sakka, king of heaven, when he stood in mid-air and tried to prevent them, saying, "Give not alms." And at his request the Master told a story of the past.And as he thus stirred up the people of all India by his gifts, the abode of Sakka was shaken by the extraordinary efficacy of his charity, and the yellow marble throne of the king of heaven showed signs of heat. Sakka exclaimed, "Who, I wonder, would make me fall from my seat in heaven?" And looking about him he espied the great merchant and thought to himself, "This Visayha gives alms and by scattering his gifts everywhere is stirring up all India. By means of his almsgiving, methinks, he will dethrone me and himself become Sakka. I will destroy his wealth and make him a poor man, and so bring it about that he shall no longer give alms." So Sakka caused his oil, honey, molasses, and the like, even all his treasure of grain to vanish, as well as his slaves and work people. Those who were deprived of his gifts came and said, "My lord, the alms-hall has disappeared. We do not find anything in the various places set up by you." "Take money hence," he said. "Do not cut off the giving of alms." And calling his wife, he bade her keep up her charity. She searched the whole house, and not finding a single piece of money, she said, "My lord, except the clothes we wear, I see nothing. The whole house is empty." Opening the seven jewel treasuries they found nothing, and save the merchant and his wife no one else was seen, neither slaves
nor hirelings. The Bodhisatta again addressing his wife said, "My dear, we cannot possibly cut off our charities. Search the whole house till you find something."
At that moment a certain grass-mower threw down his sickle and pole and the rope for binding the grass in the doorway, and ran away. The merchant's wife found them and said, "My lord, this is all I see," [130] and brought and gave them to him. Said the Bodhisatta, "My dear, all these years I have never mown grass before, but to-day I will mow grass and take and sell it, and by this means dispense the fitting alms." So through fear of having to cut off his charities, he took the sickle and the pole and the rope, and going forth from the city came to a place of much grass, and mowing it tied it up in two bundles, saying, "One shall belong to us, and with the other I will give alms." And hanging the grass on the pole he took it and went and sold it at the city gate, and receiving two small coins he gave half the money to the beggars. Now there were many beggars, and as they repeatedly cried out, "Give to us also," he gave the other half of the money also, and passed the day with his wife fasting. In this way six days passed, and on the seventh day, while he was gathering the grass, as he was naturally delicate and had been fasting for seven days, no sooner did the heat of the sun strike upon his forehead, than his eyes began to swim in his head, and he became unconscious and fell down, scattering the grass. Sakka was moving about, observing what Visayha did. And at that instant the god came, and standing in the air uttered the first stanza:
Of old, Visayha, thou didst alms bestow
And to almsgiving loss of wealth dost owe.
Henceforth show self-restraint, refuse to give,
And thou midst lasting joys for aye shalt live.
[131] The Bodhisatta on hearing his words asked, "Who art
thou?" "I am Sakka," he said. The Bodhisatta replied, "Sakka
himself by giving alms and taking upon him the moral duties, and keeping fast
days and fulfilling the seven vows attained the office of Sakka. But now thou
forbiddest the almsgiving that brought about thy own greatness. Truly thou art
guilty of an unworthy deed." And so saying, he repeated three stanzas:And to almsgiving loss of wealth dost owe.
Henceforth show self-restraint, refuse to give,
And thou midst lasting joys for aye shalt live.
It is not right, men say, that deed of
shame
Should stain the honour of a noble name.
O thou that dost a thousand eyes possess
Guard us from this, e’en in our sore distress.
Let not our wealth in faithless wise be spent
On our own pleasure or aggrandisement,
But as of old our stores with increase bless.
By that same road a former chariot went
A second may well go. So will we give
As long as we have wherewithal to live,
Nor at the worst each generous thought repress.
Should stain the honour of a noble name.
O thou that dost a thousand eyes possess
Guard us from this, e’en in our sore distress.
Let not our wealth in faithless wise be spent
On our own pleasure or aggrandisement,
But as of old our stores with increase bless.
By that same road a former chariot went
A second may well go. So will we give
As long as we have wherewithal to live,
Nor at the worst each generous thought repress.
[132] Sakka being unable to stop him from his purpose asked him why he gave alms. "Desiring," he said, "neither Sakkahood nor Brahmaship, but seeking omniscience do I give." Sakka in token of his delight on hearing these words patted him on the back with his hands. At the very instant the Bodhisatta enjoyed this favour, his whole frame was filled with joy. By the supernatural power of Sakka all manner of prosperity was restored to him. "Great merchant," said Sakka, "henceforth do thou every day give alms, distributing twelve hundred thousand portions." And creating countless wealth in his house, Sakka took leave of him and returned straight to his own place of abode.
Footnotes
85:1 See Jātakamālā, no. 5, "The Story of Avishahya."85:2 No. 40, Vol. i.
No. 341.
KAṆḌARI-JĀTAKA.
The story of this Birth will be set forth in full in the Kuṇāla Birth. 1No. 342.
VĀNARA-JĀTAKA. 2
[133] "Have I from water," etc.—This story was told by the Master, when dwelling in the Bamboo Grove, concerning the going about of Devadatta to kill the Buddha. The incident that led to the story has been already given in detail.Once upon a time when Brahmadatta reigned in Benares, the Bodhisatta came to life as a young monkey in the Himālaya region. And when fully grown he lived on the banks of the Ganges. Now a certain female crocodile in the Ganges conceived a longing for the flesh of the Bodhisatta's heart, and told, it to her husband. He thought, "I will kill the Bodhisatta by plunging him in the water and will take his heart's flesh and give it to my wife." So he said to the Bodhisatta, "Come, my friend, we will go and eat wild fruits on a certain island."
"How shall I get there?" he said.
"I will put you on my back and bring you there," answered the crocodile.
Innocent of the crocodile's purpose he jumped on his back and sat there. The crocodile after swimming a little way began to dive. Then the monkey said, "Why, Sir, do you plunge me into the water?"
"I am going to kill you," said the crocodile, "and give your heart's flesh to my wife."
"Foolish fellow," said he, "do you suppose my heart is inside me?" "Then where have you put it?"
"Do you not see it hanging there on yonder fig-tree?"
"I see it," said the crocodile. "But will you give it me?"
"Yes, I will," said the monkey.
Then the crocodile—so foolish was he—took him and swam to the foot of the fig-tree on the river bank. The Bodhisatta springing from the crocodile's back perched on the fig-tree and repeated these stanzas:
Have I from water, fish, to dry land
passed
Only to fall into thy power at last?
Of bread fruit and rose apples I am sick,
And rather figs than yonder mangoes pick.
He that to great occasion fails to rise
’Neath foeman's feet in sorrow prostrate lies:
[134] One prompt a crisis in his fate to know
Needs never dread oppression from his foe.
Thus did the Bodhisatta in these four stanzas tell how to succeed
in worldly affairs, and forthwith disappeared in the thicket of trees.Only to fall into thy power at last?
Of bread fruit and rose apples I am sick,
And rather figs than yonder mangoes pick.
He that to great occasion fails to rise
’Neath foeman's feet in sorrow prostrate lies:
[134] One prompt a crisis in his fate to know
Needs never dread oppression from his foe.
Footnotes
87:1 No. 523, Vol. v.87:2 See no. 208, Vol. ii.
No. 343.
KUNTANI-JĀTAKA.
"Long I held," etc.—This story was told by the Master at Jetavana, concerning a heron that lived in the house of the king of Kosala. She carried messages, they say, for the king, and had two young ones. The king sent this bird with a letter to some other king. When she was gone away, the boys in the royal family squeezed the young birds to death in their hands. The mother bird came back and missing her young ones, asked who had killed her offspring. They said, "So and So." And at this time there was a fierce and savage tiger kept in the palace, fastened by a strong chain. Now these boys came to see the tiger and the heron went with them, thinking, "Even as my young ones were killed by them, just so will I deal with these boys," and she took hold of them and threw them down at the foot of the tiger. The tiger with a growl crunched them up. The bird said, "Now is the wish of my heart fulfilled," and flying up into the air made straight for the Himālayas. On hearing what had happened they started a discussion in the Hall of Truth, saying, [135] "Sirs, a heron, it is said, in the king's palace threw down before a tiger the boys who killed her young ones, and when she had thus brought about their death, she made off." The Master came and inquired what it was the Brethren were discussing and said, "Not now only, Brethren, but formerly also did she bring about the death of those who killed her young ones." And herewith he related a legend of the past.
Long I held this house as mine,
Honour great I did receive,
It is due to act of thine
I am now compelled to leave.
The king on hearing this repeated the second stanza:Honour great I did receive,
It is due to act of thine
I am now compelled to leave.
Should one to retaliate,
Wrong with equal wrong repay,
Then his anger should abate;
So, good heron, prithee stay.
Wrong with equal wrong repay,
Then his anger should abate;
So, good heron, prithee stay.
[136] Hearing this the bird spoke the third stanza:
Wronged can with wrong-doer ne’er
As of old be made at one:
Nought, O king, can keep me here,
Lo! from henceforth I am gone.
The king, on hearing this, spoke the fourth stanza:As of old be made at one:
Nought, O king, can keep me here,
Lo! from henceforth I am gone.
Should they wise, not foolish be,
With the wronged wrong-doer may
Live in peace and harmony:
So, good heron, prithee, stay.
The bird said, "As things are, I cannot stay, my lord,"
and saluting the king she flew up into the air and made straight for the
Himālayas.With the wronged wrong-doer may
Live in peace and harmony:
So, good heron, prithee, stay.
No. 344.
AMBACORA-JĀTAKA.
[137] "She that did thy mangoes eat," etc.—This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, concerning an elder who kept watch over mango fruit. When he was old, they say, he became an ascetic and built him a hut of leaves in a mango orchard on the outskirts of Jetavana, and not only himself continually ate the ripe fruit that fell from the mango trees, but also gave some to his kinsfolk. When he had set out on his round of alms-begging, some thieves knocked down his mangoes, and ate some and went off with others. At this moment the four daughters of a rich merchant, after bathing in the river Aciravatī, in wandering about strayed into the mango orchard. When the old man returned and found them there, he charged them with having eaten his mangoes."Sir," they said, "we have but just come; we have not eaten your mangoes."
"Then take an oath," he said.
"We will, Sir," they said, and took an oath. The old man having thus put them to shame, by making them take an oath, let them go.
The Brethren, hearing of his action, raised a discussion in the Hall of Truth, how that an old man exacted an oath from the daughters of a merchant, who entered the mango orchard where he himself lived, and after putting them to shame by administering an oath to them, let them go. When the Master came and on inquiring what was the topic they sat in council to discuss, heard what it was, he said, "Not now only, Brethren, but formerly also this old man, when he kept watch over mangoes, made certain daughters of a rich merchant take an oath, and after thus putting them to shame let them go." And so saying he told a story of the past.
Once upon a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta became Sakka. At that time a knavish ascetic built a hermitage of leaves in a mango orchard on a river bank near Benares, and keeping watch over the mangoes, ate the ripe fruit that fell from the mango trees and also gave some to his kinsfolk, and dwelt there gaining his livelihood by various false practices.
At this time Sakka, king of heaven, thought "Who, I wonder, in this world of men support their parents, pay honour to the aged members of their family, give alms, keep the moral law and observe fast day? Which of them after adopting the religious life, continually devote themselves to the duties befitting priests, and which of them again are guilty of misconduct?" And exploring the world he spied this wicked ascetic keeping watch over his mangoes [138] and said, "This false ascetic, abandoning his duties as a priest, such as the process by which religious ecstasy may be induced and the like, is continually watching a mango orchard. I will frighten him soundly." So when he was gone into the village for alms, Sakka by his supernatural power knocked down the mangoes, and made as if they had been plundered by thieves. At this moment four daughters of a merchant of Benares entered the orchard, and the false ascetic on seeing them stopped them and said, "You have eaten my mangoes."
They said, "Sir, we have but just come. We have not eaten them."
"Then take an oath," he said.
"But in that case may we go?" they asked. "Certainly, you may."
"Very well, Sir," they said, and the eldest of them sware an oath uttering the first stanza:
She that did thy mangoes eat,
As her lord shall own some churl,
That with dye grey hairs would cheat
And his locks with tongs would curl.
The ascetic said, "Stand thou on one side," and he made
the second daughter of the merchant take an oath, and she repeated the second
stanza:As her lord shall own some churl,
That with dye grey hairs would cheat
And his locks with tongs would curl.
Let the maid that robbed thy tree
Vainly for a husband sigh,
Past her teens though she may be
And on thirty verging nigh.
And after she had taken an oath and stood on one side, the third
maiden uttered the third stanza:Vainly for a husband sigh,
Past her teens though she may be
And on thirty verging nigh.
[139]
She that thy ripe mangoes ate
Weary path shall tread alone,
And at trysting place too late
Grieve to find her lover gone.
Weary path shall tread alone,
And at trysting place too late
Grieve to find her lover gone.
When she had taken an oath and stood aside, the fourth maiden uttered the fourth stanza:
She that did thy tree despoil
Gaily dressed, with wreath on head,
And bedewed with sandal oil
Still shall seek a virgin bed.
The ascetic said, "This is a solemn oath you have taken;
others must have eaten the mangoes. Do ye therefore now be gone." And so
saying, he sent them away. Sakka then presented himself in a terrible form, and
drove away the false ascetic from the place.Gaily dressed, with wreath on head,
And bedewed with sandal oil
Still shall seek a virgin bed.
No. 345.
GAJAKUMBHA-JĀTAKA.
"Should a flame sweep," etc.—This story was told by the Master at Jetavana, concerning a slothful Brother. He was, it was said, of gentle birth and lived at Sāvatthi. And after giving a hearty assent to the doctrine and taking orders, he became slothful, and as regards rehearsal of the Law, catechizing, enlightened devotion and the round of priestly duties, he did not fully enter into them, being overcome by his besetting sins, and was always to be found at public lounging-places. The Brethren discussed his sloth in the Hall of Truth, saying, "Such an one, Sirs, after taking orders in so excellent a faith that leads to Salvation, is continually slothful and indolent, and overcome by his besetting sins." [140] When the Master came and inquired what the Brethren were assembled to discuss, on being told what it was, he said, "Not now only, Brethren, but formerly too was he slothful." And so saying he told an old-world tale.The king on seeing it asked, saying, "Friend, what is its name?"
The Bodhisatta answered, "The creature is called a tortoise, great king; and is so lazy that though it is in motion all day, it only moves just an inch or two." And addressing it he said, "Ho! Sir Tortoise, yours is a slow motion. Supposing a conflagration arose in the forest, what would you do?" And herewith he spoke the first stanza:
Should a flame sweep through the grove,
Leaving blackened path behind,
How, Sir Waddler, slow to move,
Way of safety couldst thou find?
The tortoise on hearing this repeated the second stanza:Leaving blackened path behind,
How, Sir Waddler, slow to move,
Way of safety couldst thou find?
Holes on every side abound,
Chinks there be in every tree,
Here a refuge will be found
Or an end of us ’twill be.
[141] On hearing this the Bodhisatta gave utterance to two
stanzas:Chinks there be in every tree,
Here a refuge will be found
Or an end of us ’twill be.
Whoso doth hurry when he ought to rest,
And tarries long when utmost speed is best,
Destroys the slender fabric of his weal,
As withered leaf is crushed beneath the heel.
But they who wait betimes nor haste too soon,
Fulfil their purpose, as her orb the moon.
The king, hearing the words of the Bodhisatta, thenceforth was no
longer indolent.And tarries long when utmost speed is best,
Destroys the slender fabric of his weal,
As withered leaf is crushed beneath the heel.
But they who wait betimes nor haste too soon,
Fulfil their purpose, as her orb the moon.
No. 346.
KESAVA-JĀTAKA.
"Thou that of late," etc.—This story the Master while at Jetavana told concerning the Feast of Friendship.In the house of Anāthapiṇdika, they say, five hundred Brethren were constantly fed. [142] The house was continually like a place of refreshment for the assembly of the Brethren, bright with the sheen of their yellow robes and blown upon with saintly odours. So one day the king in making a solemn procession
round the city caught sight of the assembly of the Brethren in the Treasurer's house, and thinking, "I too will grant a perpetual alms to the assembly of saints," he went to the monastery and after greeting the Master he instituted perpetual alms for five hundred Brethren. Thenceforth there is a perpetual giving of alms in the king's house, even choice food of rice with the perfume of the rain upon it, but there are none to give it with their own hands, with marks of affection and love, but the king's ministers dispense the food, and the Brethren do not care to sit down and eat it, but taking the various dainty foods, they go each to the house of his own retainers, and giving them the food, themselves eat whatever is set before them, whether coarse or dainty.
Now one day much wild fruit was brought to the king. The king said, "Give it to the Order of the Brethren."
They went to the refectory and came and told the king, "There is not a single Brother there."
"What, is it not time yet?" said the king.
"Yes it is time," they said, "but the Brethren take the food in your house, and then go to the abode of their trusty servitors, and give the food to them, and themselves eat whatsoever is served up to them, whether it be coarse or dainty."
The king said, "Our food is dainty. Why in the world do they abstain from ours and eat some other food?" And thinking, "I will inquire of the Master," he went to the monastery and asked him.
The Master said, "The best food is that which is given in love. Owing to the absence of those who by giving in love establish friendly feeling, the Brethren take the food and eat it in some friendly place of their own. There is no flavour, Sire, equal to that of love. That which is given without love, though it be composed of the four sweet things, is not worth so much as wild rice given with love. Wise men of old, when sickness arose amongst them, though the king with his five families of leeches provided remedies, if the sickness were not thus assuaged, repaired to their intimate friends and by eating broth of wild rice and millet, without salt, or even leaves without salt, sprinkled with water only, were healed of their sickness." And with these words at their request he told them a story of the past.
By and bye Kesava accompanied by these ascetics went to Benares to procure salt and vinegar and lodged in the king's garden. Next day he went into the city and came to the palace door. When the king saw the band of holy men, he invited them in and fed them in his own house, and exacting the usual promise from them, he lodged them in his garden. So when the rainy season was over, Kesava took leave of the king. The king said, "Holy Sir, you are an old man. Do you now dwell near us, and send
the young ascetics to the Himālayas." He agreed and sent them with the head disciple to the Himālayas and himself was left quite alone. Kappa went to the Himālayas and dwelt there with the ascetics. Kesava was unhappy at being deprived of the society of Kappa, and in his desire to see him got no sleep, and in consequence of losing his sleep, his food was not properly digested. A bloody flux set in, followed by severe pains. The king with his five families of leeches watched over the ascetic, but his sickness abated not.
The ascetic asked the king, "Do you, Sire, wish for me to die or to recover?"
"To recover, Sir," he answered.
"Then send me to the Himālayas," he said.
"Agreed," said the king, and sent to a minister named Nārada, and bade him go with some foresters and take the holy man to the Himālayas. Nārada took him there and returned home. But by the mere sight of Kappa, Kesava's mental disorder ceased and his unhappiness subsided. [144] So Kappa gave him broth made of millet and wild rice together with leaves sprinkled with water, without salt and spices, and at that very instant the dysentery was assuaged. The king again sent Nārada saying, "Go and learn tidings of the ascetic Kesava." He came and finding him recovered said, "Reverend Sir, the king of Benares treating you with his five families of leeches could not heal your sickness. How did Kappa treat you?" And herewith he uttered the first stanza:
Thou that of late with lord of men
didst dwell,
A king prepared to grant thy heart's desire,
What is the charm of Kappa's hermit cell
That blessed Kesava should here retire?
Kesava on hearing this repeated the second stanza:A king prepared to grant thy heart's desire,
What is the charm of Kappa's hermit cell
That blessed Kesava should here retire?
All here is charming: e’en the very
trees
O Nārada, my fancy take,
And Kappa's words that never fail to please
A grateful echo in my heart awake.
After these words he said: "Kappa by way of pleasing me gave
me to drink broth made of millet and wild rice mixed with leaves sprinkled with
water, and without salt and spices, and therewith was my bodily sickness stayed
and I was healed."O Nārada, my fancy take,
And Kappa's words that never fail to please
A grateful echo in my heart awake.
Nārada, hearing this, repeated the third stanza:
Thou that but now the purest rice didst
eat
Boiled with a dainty flavouring of meat,
How canst thou relish such insipid fare
And millet and wild rice with hermits share?
Boiled with a dainty flavouring of meat,
How canst thou relish such insipid fare
And millet and wild rice with hermits share?
[145] On hearing this Kesava uttered the fourth stanza:
The food may coarse or dainty prove,
May scanty be or much abound,
Yet if the meal is blest with love,
Love the best sauce by far is found.
Nārada on hearing his words returned to the king and told him,
"Kesava says thus and thus."May scanty be or much abound,
Yet if the meal is blest with love,
Love the best sauce by far is found.
No. 347.
AYAKŪṬA-JĀTAKA. 2
"Why in mid air," etc.—This story the Master, while dwelling at Jetavana, told concerning the duty of doing good to men. The incident that led to the story will be set forth in the Mahākaṇha Birth. 3At that time men were devoted to the worship of the gods [146] and made religious offerings to them by the slaughter of many goats, rams and the like. The Bodhisatta proclaimed by beat of drum, "No living creature is to be put to death." The Yakkhas were enraged against the Bodhisatta at losing their offerings, and calling together an assembly of their kind in the Himalayās, they sent forth a certain savage Yakkha to slay the Bodhisatta. He took a huge blazing mass of iron as big as the dome of a
house, and thinking to strike a deadly blow, immediately after the mid watch, came and stood at the bed's head of the Bodhisatta. At that instant the throne of Sakka manifested signs of heat. After considering the matter the god discovered the cause, and grasping his thunderbolt in his hand he came and stood over the Yakkha. The Bodhisatta on seeing the Yakkha thought, "Why in the world is he standing here? Is it to protect me, or from a desire to slay me?" And as he talked with him he repeated the first stanza:
Why in mid air, O Yakkha, dost thou
stand
With yon huge bolt of iron in thy hand?
Art thou to guard me from all harm intent,
Or here to-day for my destruction sent?
Now the Bodhisatta saw only the Yakkha. He did not see Sakka. The
Yakkha through fear of Sakka durst not strike the Bodhisatta. On hearing the
words of the Bodhisatta the Yakkha said, "Great king, I am not stationed
here to guard you; I came minded to smite you with this blazing mass of iron, but
through fear of Sakka I dare not strike you." And to explain his meaning
he uttered the second stanza:With yon huge bolt of iron in thy hand?
Art thou to guard me from all harm intent,
Or here to-day for my destruction sent?
As messenger of Rakkhasas, lo! here
To compass thy destruction I appear,
But all in vain the fiery bolt I wield
Against the head that Indra's self would shield.
On hearing this the Bodhisatta repeated two more stanzas:To compass thy destruction I appear,
But all in vain the fiery bolt I wield
Against the head that Indra's self would shield.
If Indra, Sujā's lord, in heaven that
reigns,
Great king of gods, my cause to champion deigns,
[147] With hideous howl though goblins rend the sky,
No demon brood has power to terrify.
Let mud-sprite devils gibber as they may,
They are not equal to so stern a fray.
Thus did Sakka put the Yakkha to flight. And exhorting the Great
Being, he said, "Great king, fear not. Henceforth we will protect you. Be
not afraid." And so saying he returned straight to his own place of abode.Great king of gods, my cause to champion deigns,
[147] With hideous howl though goblins rend the sky,
No demon brood has power to terrify.
Let mud-sprite devils gibber as they may,
They are not equal to so stern a fray.
Footnotes
96:1 See no. 405.96:2 See R. Morris, Folk-Lore Journal, iii. 336.
96:3 No. 469, Vol. iv.
No. 348.
ARAÑÑA-JĀTAKA.
"This doubt, my father," etc.—This story the Master told when dwelling at Jetavana, concerning the seduction of a youth by a certain coarse girl. The incident that led up to the story will be set forth in the Cullanāradakassapa Birth. 1"Let my father first return," he said, "and after I have seen him, I will go with you."
"Well, when you have seen him, come to me," she said. And going out she sat herself down in the middle of the road. The young ascetic, when his father had come, spoke the first stanza:
This doubt, my father, solve for me, I
pray;
If to some village from this wood I stray,
Men of what school of morals, or what sect
Shall I most wisely for my friends affect?
Then his father, by way of warning him, repeated three stanzas:If to some village from this wood I stray,
Men of what school of morals, or what sect
Shall I most wisely for my friends affect?
One that can gain thy confidence and
love,
Can trust thy word, and with thee patient prove,
In thought and word and deed will ne’er offend—
Take to thy heart and cling to him as friend.
To men capricious as the monkey-kind
And found unstable, be not thou inclined,
Though to some desert lone thy lot should be confined.
[149] On hearing this the young ascetic said, "Dear father,
how shall I find a man possessed of these virtues? I will not go. With you only
will I live." And so saying he turned back. Then his father taught him theCan trust thy word, and with thee patient prove,
In thought and word and deed will ne’er offend—
Take to thy heart and cling to him as friend.
To men capricious as the monkey-kind
And found unstable, be not thou inclined,
Though to some desert lone thy lot should be confined.
preparatory rites to induce mystic meditation. And both father and son, without falling away from religious ecstasy, became destined to birth in the Brahma-world.
Footnotes
98:1 No. 477, Vol. iv.No. 349.
SANDHIBHEDA-JĀTAKA. 1
"Nought in common," etc.—This story the Master, dwelling at Jetavana, told concerning the moral precept on slander.Once upon a time the Master hearing that the Six 2 Priests collect slanderous tales, called them to him and asked, "Is it true, Brothers, that you collect slanderous tales of such of your brethren as are inclined to quarrelling and strife and disputation, and that quarrels therefore, that would not otherwise arise, spring up and when they so arise have a tendency to grow?" "It is true," they said. Then he reproved those brethren and said, "Brothers, backbiting speech is like to a blow with a sharp sword. A firm friendship is quickly broken up by slander and people that listen thereto become liable to be estranged from their friends, as was the case with the lion and the bull." And so saying he told an old legend of the past.
At that time a certain neatherd, who was tending cattle in their sheds in the forest, came home and inadvertently left behind him a cow that was in calf. Between this cow and a lioness sprang up a firm friendship. The
two animals became fast friends and went about together. So after a time the cow brought forth a calf and the lioness a cub. These two young creatures also by the force of family ties became fast friends and wandered about together. [150] Then a certain forester, after observing their affection, took such wares as are produced in the forest and went to Benares and presented them to the King. And when the king asked him, "Friend, have you seen any unusual marvel in the forest?" he made answer, "I saw nothing else that was wonderful, my lord, but I did see a lion and a bull wandering about together, very friendly one towards another."
"Should a third animal appear," said the king, "there will certainly be mischief. Come and tell me, if you see the pair joined by a third animal."
"Certainly, my lord," he answered.
Now when the forester had left for Benares, a jackal ministered to the lion and the bull. When he returned to the forest and saw this he said, "I will tell the king that a third animal has appeared," and departed for the city. Now the jackal thought, "There is no meat that I have not eaten except the flesh of lions and bulls. By setting these two at variance, I will get their flesh to eat." And he said, "This is the way he speaks of you," and thus dividing them one from another, he soon brought about a quarrel and reduced them to a dying condition.
But the forester came and told the king, "My lord, a third animal has turned up;" "What is it?" said the king. "A jackal, my lord." Said the king, "He will cause them to quarrel, and will bring about their death. We shall find them dead when we arrive." And so saying, he mounted upon his chariot and travelling on the road pointed out by the forester, he arrived just as the two animals had by their quarrel destroyed one another. The jackal highly delighted was eating, now the flesh of the lion, and now that of the bull. The king when he saw that they were both dead, stood just as he was upon his chariot, and addressing his charioteer gave utterance to these verses:
[151]
Nought in common had this pair,
Neither wives nor food did share;
Yet behold how slanderous word,
Keen as any two-edged sword,
Did devise with cunning art
Friends of old to keep apart.
Thus did bull and lion fall
Prey to meanest beast of all:
So will all bed-fellows be
With this pair in misery,
If they lend a willing ear
To the slanderer's whispered sneer.
But they thrive exceeding well,
E’en as those in heaven that dwell,
Who to slander ne’er attend—
Slander parting friend from friend.
Neither wives nor food did share;
Yet behold how slanderous word,
Keen as any two-edged sword,
Did devise with cunning art
Friends of old to keep apart.
Thus did bull and lion fall
Prey to meanest beast of all:
So will all bed-fellows be
With this pair in misery,
If they lend a willing ear
To the slanderer's whispered sneer.
But they thrive exceeding well,
E’en as those in heaven that dwell,
Who to slander ne’er attend—
Slander parting friend from friend.
[152] The king spoke these verses, and bidding them gather together the mane, skin, claws, and teeth of the lion, returned straight to his own city.
Footnotes
99:1 See no. 361 infra, Tibetan Tales, XXXIII. p. 325, "The Jackal as Calumniator," and Benfey's Introduction to the Panchatantra.99:2 See Vol. i. no. 28, p. 71.
No. 350.
DEVATĀPANHA-JĀTAKA.
This Question will be found in the Ummagga Jātaka.
Om Tat Sat
(Continued...)
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