Thursday, January 9, 2014

THE JĀTAKA OR STORIES OF THE BUDDHA'S FORMER BIRTHS (Book -3) -13

















THE JĀTAKA

OR
STORIES OF THE BUDDHA'S FORMER BIRTHS




No. 392.

BHISAPUPPHA-JĀTAKA.

"You were never," etc.—The Master told this tale while dwelling in Jetavana, concerning a certain Brother. The story is that the Brother had left Jetavana and dwelt in the Kosala kingdom near a certain wood: one day he went down into a lotus-pool [308], and seeing a lotus in flower he stood to leeward and smelt

it. Then the goddess who dwelt in that part of the forest frightened him saying, "Sir, you are a thief of odours, this is a kind of theft." He went back in a fright to Jetavana, and saluted the Master and sat down. "Where have you been staying, Brother?" "In such and such a wood, and the goddess frightened me in such and such a way." The Master said, "You are not the first who have been frightened by a goddess when smelling a flower; sages of old have been frightened in like manner," and at the Brother's request he told an old tale.

Once upon a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born in a brahmin family of a village in Kāsi: when he grew up he learned the arts at Takkasilā, and afterwards became an ascetic and lived near a lotus-pool. One day he went down into the pool and stood smelling a lotus in full flower. A goddess who was in a hollow in a trunk of a tree alarming him spoke the first stanza:—
You were never given that flower you smell, though it's only a single bloom;
’Tis a species of larceny, reverend sir, you are stealing its perfume.
Then the Bodhisatta spoke the second stanza:—
I neither take nor break the flower: from afar I smell the bloom.
I cannot tell on what pretence you say I steal perfume.
At the same moment a man was digging in the pool for lotus-fibres and breaking the lotus-plants. The Bodhisatta seeing him said, "You call a man thief if he smells the flower from afar: [309] why do you not speak to that other man?" So in talk with her he spoke the third stanza:—
A man who digs the lotus-roots and breaks the stalks I see:
Why don't you call the conduct of that man disorderly?
The goddess, explaining why she did not speak to him, spoke the fourth and fifth stanzas:—
Disgusting like a nurse's dress are men disorderly:
I have no speech with men like him, but I deign to speak to thee.
When a man is free from evil stains and seeks for purity,
A sin like a hair-tip shows on him like a dark cloud in the sky.

So alarmed by her the Bodhisatta in emotion spoke the sixth stanza:—
Surely, fairy, you know me well, to pity me you deign:
If you see me do the like offence, pray speak to me again.
Then the goddess spoke to him the seventh stanza:—
I am not here to serve you, no hireling folk are we:
Find, Brother, for yourself the path to reach felicity.

[310] So exhorting him she entered her own abode. The Bodhisatta entered on high meditation and was born in the Brahmaloka world.

The lesson ended, the Master declared the Truths, and identified the Birth:—at the end of the Truths, the Brother was established in the fruit of the First Path:—"At that time the goddess was Uppalavaṇṇā, the ascetic myself."


No. 393.

VIGHĀSA-JĀTAKA.

"Happy life is theirs," etc.—The Master told this tale while dwelling in the East Garden, concerning some Brethren who were given to amusement. The great Moggallāna had shaken their dwelling and alarmed them. The Brethren sat discussing their fault in the Hall of Truth. The Master being told this said to them, "They are not given to amusement for the first time," and so told an old tale.

Once upon a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was Sakka. Seven brothers in a certain village of Kāsi seeing the evil of desires had renounced them and become ascetics: they dwelt in Mejjhārañña but lived in various kinds of amusement, not practising devotion diligently and being of full habit of body. Sakka, king of gods, said, "I will alarm them;" and so he became a parrot, came to their dwelling-place and perching on a tree spoke the first stanza to alarm them:—
[311]
Happy life is theirs who live on remnants left from charity:
Praise in this world is their lot, and in the next felicity.
Then one of them hearing the parrot's words called to the rest, and spoke the second stanza:—
Should not wise men listen when a parrot speaks in human tongue:
Hearken, brethren: ’tis our praises clearly that this bird has sung.
Then the parrot denying this spoke the third stanza:—
Not your praises I am singing, carrion-eaters: list to me,
Refuse is the food you eat, not remnants left from charity.

When they heard him, they all together spoke the fourth stanza:—
Seven years ordained, with duly tonsured hair,
    In Mejjhārañña here we spend our days,
Living on remnants: if you blame our fare,
    Who is it then you praise?
The Great Being spoke the fifth stanza, putting them to shame:—
Leavings of the lion, tiger, ravening beast, are your supply:
Refuse truly, though ye call it remnants left from charity.
[312] Hearing him the ascetics said, "If we are not eaters of remnants, then who pray are?" Then he telling them the true meaning spoke the sixth stanza:—
They who giving alms to priests and brahmins, wants to satisfy
Eat the rest, ’tis they who live on remnants left from charity.
So the Bodhisatta put them to shame and went to his own place.

After the lesson, the Master declared the Truths and identified the Birth: "At that time the seven brothers were the sportive Brethren, Sakka was myself."


No. 394.

VAṬṬAKA-JĀTAKA.

"Oil and butter," etc.—The Master told this while dwelling in Jetavana, concerning a greedy Brother. Finding that he was greedy the Master said to him, "This is not the first time you are greedy: once before through greed in Benares you were not satisfied with carcases of elephants, oxen, horses and men; and in hopes of getting better food you went to the forest;" and so he told an old tale.

Once upon a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born as a quail and lived in the forest on rude grass and seeds. At the time there was in Benares a greedy crow who, not content with carcases of elephants and other animals, went to the forest in hopes of better food: eating wild fruits there he saw the Bodhisatta and thinking "This quail is very fat: I fancy he eats sweet food, I will ask

him of his food and eating it become fat myself," he perched on a bough above the Bodhisatta. The Bodhisatta [313], without being asked, gave him greeting and spoke the first stanza:—
Oil and butter are your victuals, nuncle; rich your food, I trow:
Tell me then what is the reason of your leanness, master crow.
Hearing his words the crow spoke three stanzas:—
I dwell in midst of many foes, my heart goes pit-a-pat
In terror as I seek my food: how can a crow be fat?
Crows spend their lives in fear, their wits for mischief ever keen;
The bits they pick are not enough; good quail, that's why I'm lean.

Rude grass and seeds are all your food: there's little richness there:
Then tell me why you're fat, good quail, on such a scanty fare.

The Bodhisatta hearing him spoke these stanzas, explaining the reason of his fatness:—
I have content and easy mind, short distances to go,
I live on anything I get, and so I'm fat, good crow.
Content of mind, and happiness with little care of heart,
A standard easily attained: that life's the better part.


[314] After the lesson, the Master declared the Truths, and identified the Birth:—At the end of the Truths the Brother was established in the fruition of the First Path: "At that time the crow was the greedy Brother, the quail was myself."


No. 395.

KĀKA-JĀTAKA. 1

"Our old friend," etc.—The Master told this tale while dwelling in Jetavana, concerning a greedy Brother. The occasion is as above.

Once upon a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was a pigeon and lived in a nest-basket in the kitchen of a
  Benares merchant. A crow became intimate with him and lived there also. Here the story is to be expanded. The cook pulled out the crow's feathers and sprinkled him with flour, then piercing a cowrie he hung it on the crow's neck and threw him into a basket. The Bodhisatta came from the wood, and seeing him made a jest and spoke the first stanza:—
Our old friend! look at him!
    A jewel bright he wears;
His beard in gallant trim,
    How gay our friend appears!
[315] The crow hearing him spoke the second stanza:—
My nails and hair had grown so fast,
    They hampered me in all I did:
A barber came along at last,
    And of superfluous hair I'm rid.
Then the Bodhisatta spoke the third stanza:—
Granted you got a barber then,
    Who has cropped your hair so well:
Round your neck, will you explain,
    What's that tinkling like a bell?
Then the crow uttered two stanzas:—
Men of fashion wear a gem
    Round the neck: it's often done:
I am imitating them:
    Don't suppose it's just for fun.
If you're really envious
    Of my beard that's trimmed so true:
I can get you barbered thus;
    You may have the jewel too.
The Bodhisatta hearing him spoke the sixth stanza:—
Nay, ’tis you they best become,
    Gem and beard that's trimmed so true.
I find your presence troublesome:
    I go with a good-day to you.
[316] With these words he flew up and went elsewhere; and the crow died then and there.

After the lesson, the Master declared the Truths and identified the Birth:—After the Truths, the greedy Brother was established in the fruition of the Third Path: "At that time the crow was the greedy Brother, the pigeon was myself."

Footnotes

195:1 Cf. no. 42, vol. i.; no. 274, vol. ii.


BOOK VII. SATTANIPĀTA.

No. 396.

KUKKU-JĀTAKA.

[317] "The peak's a cubit," etc—The Master told this while dwelling in Jetavana, concerning the admonition of a king. The occasion will appear in the Tesakua-Birth. 1

Once upon a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was his councillor in things temporal and spiritual. The king was set on the way of the evil courses, ruled his kingdom unrighteously and collected wealth by oppressing the people. The Bodhisatta wishing to admonish him goes about looking for a parable. Now the king's bedchamber was unfinished and the roof was not complete upon it: the rafters supported a peak but were only just set in position. The king had gone and taken his pleasure in the park: when he came to his house he looked up and saw the round peak: fearing it would fall upon him he went and stood outside, then looking up again he thought "How is that peak resting so? and how are the rafters?" and asking the Bodhisatta he spoke the first stanza:—
[318]
The peak's a cubit and a half in height,
    Eight spans will compass it in circuit round,
Of simsapa and sāra built aright:
    Why does it stand so sound?
Hearing him the Bodhisatta thought "I have now got a parable to admonish the king," and spoke these stanzas:—
The thirty rafters bent, of sāra wood,
    Set equally, encompass it around,
They press it tightly, for their hold is good:
    ’Tis set aright and sound.

So is the wise man, girt by faithful friends,
    By steadfast counsellors and pure:
Never from height of fortune he descends:
    As rafters hold the peak secure.
[319] While the Bodhisatta was speaking, the king considered his own conduct, "If there is no peak, the rafters do not stand fast; the peak does not stand if not held by the rafters; if the rafters break, the peak falls: and even so a bad king, not holding together his friends and ministers, his armies, his brahmins and householders, if these break up, is not held by them but falls from his power: a king must be righteous." At that instant they brought him a citron as a present. The king said to the Bodhisatta, "Friend, eat this citron." The Bodhisatta took it and said, "O king, people who know not how to eat this make it bitter or acid: but wise men who know take away the bitter, and without removing the acid or spoiling the citron-flavour they eat it," and by this parable he showed the king the means of collecting wealth, and spoke two stanzas:—
The rough-skinned citron bitter is to eat,
    If it remain untouched by carver's steel:
Take but the pulp, O king, and it is sweet:
    You spoil the sweetness if you add the peel.
Even so the wise man without violence,
    Gathers king's dues in village and in town,
Increases wealth, and yet gives no offence:
    He walks the way of right and of renown.
[320] The king taking counsel with the Bodhisatta went to a lotus-tank, and seeing a lotus in flower, with a hue like the new-risen sun, not defiled by the water, he said: "Friend, that lotus grown in the water stands undefiled by the water." Then the Bodhisatta said, "O king, so should a king be," and spoke these stanzas in admonition:—
Like the lotus in the pool,
    White roots, waters pure, sustain it;
In the sun's face flowering full,
    Dust nor mud nor wet can stain it.
So the man whom virtues rule,
    Meek and pure and good we style him:
Like the lotus in the pool
    Stain of sin cannot defile him.

[321] The king hearing the Bodhisatta's admonition afterwards ruled his kingdom righteously, and doing good actions, charity and the rest, became destined for heaven.

After the lesson, the Master declared the Truths and identified the Birth: "At that time the king was Ānanda, the wise minister myself."

Footnotes

197:1 No. 521, vol. v.


No. 397.

MANOJA-JĀTAKA.

"The bow is bent," etc.—The Master told this while dwelling in the Bamboo Grove, concerning a Brother who kept bad company. The occasion was given at length in the Mahilāmukhata Birth. 1 The Master said, "Brethren, he is not keeping bad company for the first time," and told an old tale.

Once upon a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was a lion and living with a lioness had two children, a son and a daughter. The son's name was Manoja. When he grew up he took a young lioness to wife: and so they became five. Manoja killed wild buffaloes and other animals, and so got flesh to feed his parents, sister and wife. [322] One day in his hunting ground he saw a jackal called Giriya, unable to run away and lying on his belly. "How now, friend?" he said. "I wish to wait on you, my lord." "Well, do so." So he took the jackal to his den. The Bodhisatta seeing him said, "Dear Manoja, jackals are wicked and sinners, and give wrong advice; don't bring this one near you:" but could not hinder him. Then one day the jackal wished to eat horseflesh, and said to Manoja, "Sir, except horseflesh there is nothing we have not eaten; let us take a horse." "But where are there horses, friend?" "At Benares by the river bank." He took this advice and went with him there when the horses bathe in the river; he took one horse, and throwing it on his back he came with speed to the mouth of his den. His father eating the horseflesh said, "Dear, horses are kings' property, kings have many stratagems, they have skilful archers to shoot; lions who eat horseflesh don't live long, henceforward don't take horses." The lion not following his father's advice went on taking them. The king, hearing that a lion was taking the horses, had a bathing-tank for horses made inside the town: but the lion still came and took them. The king had a stable made, and had fodder and water given them inside it. The lion came over the wall and took the horses even from the stable. The king had an archer called who shot like lightning, and asked if he could shoot a lion. He said he could, and making a tower near the wall where the lion came he waited there. The lion came and, posting the jackal in a cemetery outside, sprang into the town to take the horses. The

archer thinking "His speed is very great when he comes," did not shoot him, but when he was going away after taking a horse, hampered by the heavy weight, he hit him with a sharp arrow in the hind quarters. The arrow came out at his front quarters and flew in the air. [323] The lion yelled "I am shot." The archer after shooting him twanged his bow like thunder. The jackal hearing the noise of lion and bow said to himself, "My comrade is shot and must be killed, there is no friendship with the dead, I will now go to my old home in the wood," and so he spoke two stanzas:—
The bow is bent, the bowstring sounds amain;
Manoja, king of beasts, my friend, is slain.
Alas, I seek the woods as best I may:
Such friendship's naught; others must be my stay.

The lion with a rush came and threw the horse at the den's mouth, falling dead himself. His kinsfolk came out and saw him blood-stained, blood flowing from his wounds, dead from following the wicked; and his father, mother, sister and wife seeing him spoke four stanzas in order:—
His fortune is not prosperous whom wicked folk entice;
Look at Manoja lying there, through Giriya's advice.
No joy have mothers in a son whose comrades are not good:
Look at Manoja lying there all covered with his blood.

And even so fares still the man, in low estate he lies,
Who follows not the counsel of the true friend and the wise.

This, or worse than this, his fate
    Who is high, but trusts the low:
[324] See, ’tis thus from kingly state
    He has fallen to the bow.
Lastly, the stanza of the Perfect Wisdom:—
Who follows outcasts is himself out cast,
    Who courts his equals ne’er will be betrayed,
Who bows before the noblest rises fast;
    Look therefore to thy betters for thine aid.

After the lesson, the Master declared the Truths and identified the Birth:—After the Truths the brother who kept bad company was established in the fruition of the First Path:—"At that time the jackal was Devadatta, Manoja was the keeper of bad company, his sister was Uppalavanā, his wife the Sister Khemā, his mother the mother of Rāhula, his father myself."

Footnotes

199:1 No. 26, vol. i. p. 185.


No. 398.

SUTANO-JĀTAKA.

"The King has sent," etc.—The Master told this tale while dwelling in Jetavana, concerning a Brother who supported his mother. The occasion will appear in the Sāma 1 Birth.

[325] Once upon a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born in the family of a poor householder: they called his name Sutana. When he grew up he earned wages and supported his parents: when his father died, he supported his mother. The king of that day was fond of hunting. One day he went with a great retinue to a forest a league or two in extent, and made proclamation to all, "If a deer escape by any man's post, the man is fined the value of the deer." The ministers having made a concealed hut by the regular road gave it to the king. The deer were roused by the crying of men who had surrounded their lairs, and one antelope came to the king's post. The king thought, "I will hit him," and sent an arrow. The animal, who knew a trick, saw that the arrow was coming to his broadside, and wheeling round fell as if wounded by the arrow. The king thought, "I have hit him," and rushed to seize him. The deer rose and fled like the wind. The ministers and the rest mocked the king. He pursued the deer and when it was tired he cut it in two with his sword: hanging the pieces on one stick he came as if carrying a pole and saying, "I will rest a little," he drew near to a banyan tree by the road and lying down fell asleep. A yakkha called Makhādeva was reborn in that banyan, and got from Vessava2 all living things who came to it as his food. When the king rose he said, "Stay, you are my food," and took him by the hand. "Who are you?" said the king. "I am a yakkha born here, I get all men who come to this place as my food." The king, taking good heart, asked, "Will you eat to-day only or continually?" "I will eat continually what I get." "Then eat this deer to-day and let me go; from to-morrow I will send you a man with a plate of rice every day." "Be careful then: on the day when no one is sent [326] I will eat you." "I am king of Benares: there is nothing I cannot do." The yakkha took his promise and let him go. When the king came to the town, he told the case to a minister in attendance and asked what was to be done.
  "Was a limit of time fixed, O king?" "No." "That was wrong when you were about it: but never mind, there are many men in the jail." "Then do you manage this affair, and give me life." The minister agreed, and taking a man from the jail every day sent him to the yakkha with a plate of rice without telling him anything. The yakkha eats both rice and man. After a time the jails became empty. The king finding no one to carry the rice shook with fear of death. The minister comforting him said, "O king, desire of wealth is stronger than desire of life: let us put a packet of a thousand pieces on an elephant's back and make proclamation by drum, "Who will take rice and go to the yakkha and get this wealth?" and he did so. The Bodhisatta thought, "I get pence and halfpence for my wages and can hardly support my mother: I will get this wealth and give it her, and then go to the yakkha: if I can get the better of him, well, and if I cannot she will live comfortably": so he told his mother, but she said, "I have enough, dear, I don't need wealth," and so forbade him twice; but the third time without asking her, he said, "Sirs, bring the thousand pieces, I will take the rice." So he gave his mother the thousand pieces and said, "Don't fret, dear; I will overcome the yakkha and give happiness to the people: I will come making your tearful face to laugh," and so saluting her he went to the king with the king's men, and saluting him stood there. The king said, "My good man, will you take the rice?" "Yes, O king." "What should you take with you?" [327] "Your golden slippers, O king." "Why?" "O king, that yakkha gets to eat all people standing on the ground at the foot of the tree: I will stand on slippers, not on his ground." "Anything else?" "Your umbrella, O king." "Why so?" "O king, the yakkha gets to eat all people standing in the shade of his own tree: I will stand in the shade of the umbrella, not of his tree." "Anything else?" "Your sword, O king." "For what purpose?" "O king, even goblins fear those with weapons in their hands." "Anything else?" "Your golden bowl, O king, filled with your own rice." "Why, good man?" "It is not meet for a wise man like me to take coarse food in an earthen dish." The king consented and sent officers to give him all he asked. The Bodhisatta said, "Fear not, O great king, I will come back today having overcome the yakkha and caused you happiness," and so taking the things needful and going to the place, he set men not far front the tree, put on the golden slippers, girt the sword, put the white umbrella over his head, and taking rice in a gold dish went to the yakkha. The yakkha watching the road saw him and thought, "This man comes not as they came on the other days, what is the reason?" The Bodhisatta drawing near the tree pushed the plate of rice in the shadow with the sword-point, and standing near the shadow spoke the first stanza:—
The king has sent thee rice prepared and seasoned well with meat:
If Makhādeva is at home, let him come forth and eat!

[328] Hearing him the yakkha thought, "I will deceive him, and eat him when he comes into the shadow," and so he spoke the second stanza:—
Come inside, young man, with your seasoned food,
Both it and you, young man, to eat are good.
Then the Bodhisatta spoke two stanzas:—
Yakkha, you'll lose a great thing for a small,
Men fearing death will bring no food at all.
You'll have good supply of cheer,
Pure and sweet and flavoured to your mind:
But a man to bring it here,
If you eat me, will be hard to find.

[329] The yakkha thought, "The young man speaks sense," and being well disposed spoke two stanzas:—
Young Sutana, my interests are clearly as you show:
Visit your mother then in peace, you have my leave to go.
Take sword, and parasol, and dish, young man, and go your ways,
Visit your mother happily and bring her happy days.

Hearing the yakkha's words the Bodhisatta was pleased, thinking, "My task is accomplished, the yakkha overcome, much wealth won and the king's word made good," and so returning thanks to the yakkha he spoke a final stanza:—
With all thy kith and kin, yakkha, right happy may you be:
The king's command has been performed, and wealth has come to me.
So he admonished the yakkha, saying, "Friend, you did evil deeds of old, you were cruel and harsh, you ate the flesh and blood of others and so were born as a yakkha: from henceforth do no murder or the like:" so telling the blessings of virtue and the misery of vice, he established the yakkha in the five virtues: then he said, "Why dwell in the forest? come, I will settle you by the city gate and make you get the best rice." So he went away with the yakkha, making him take the sword and the other things, and came to Benares. They told the king that Sutana was come with the yakkha. The king with his ministers [330] went out to meet the Bodhisatta, settled the yakkha at the city gate and made him get the best rice: then he entered the town, made proclamation by drum, and calling a meeting of the townsfolk spoke the praises of the Bodhisatta and gave him the command of the army: himself was established in the Bodhisatta's teaching, did the good works of charity and the other virtues, and became destined for heaven.

After the lesson, the Master declared the Truths, and identified the Birth:—After the Truths, the Brother who supported his mother was established in the fruition of the First Path:—"At that time the Yakkha was Agulimāla, the king Ānanda, the youth myself."

 Footnotes

201:1 No. 540, vol. vi.
201:2 King of the yakkhas.



No. 399.

GIJJHA-JĀTAKA.

"How will the old folks," etc.—The Master told this when dwelling in Jetavana, concerning a Brother who supported his mother.

Once upon a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born of a vulture. When he grew up he put his parents, now old and dim of eye, in a vulture's cave and fed them by bringing them flesh of cows and the like. At the time a certain hunter laid snares for vultures all about a Benares cemetery. One day the Bodhisatta seeking for flesh came to the cemetery and caught his foot in the snares. He did not think of himself, but remembered his old parents. "How will my parents live now? I think they will die, ignorant that I am caught, helpless and destitute, wasting away in that hill-cave:" so lamenting he spoke the first stanza:—
How will the old folks manage now within the mountain cave?
For I am fastened in a snare, cruel Nilīya's slave.
[331] The son of a hunter, hearing him lament, spoke the second stanza, the vulture spoke the third, and so on alternately:—
Vulture, what strange laments of yours are these my ears that reach?
I never heard or saw a bird that uttered human speech.
I tend my aged parents within a mountain cave,
How will the old folks manage now that I've become your slave?

Carrion a vulture sights across a hundred leagues of land;
Why do you fail to see a snare and net so close at hand?

When ruin comes upon a man, and fates his death demand,
He fails to see a snare or net although so close at hand.

Go, tend your aged parents within their mountain-cave,
Go, visit them in peace, you have from me the leave you crave.

O hunter, happiness be thine, with all thy kith and kin:
I'll tend my aged parents their mountain-cave within.

Then the Bodhisatta, freed from the fear of death, joyfully gave thanks and speaking a final stanza took his mouthful of meat, and went away and gave it to his parents.

After the lesson, the Master declared the Truths and identified the Birth:—After the Truths, the Brother was established in the fruition of the First Path:—[332] "At that time, the hunter was Channa, the parents were king's kin, the vulture-king myself."


No. 400.

DABBHAPUPPHA-JĀTAKA. 1

"Friend Anutīracārī," etc.—The Master told this while dwelling in Jetavana, concerning Upananda, of the Sakya tribe. He was ordained in the faith, but forsook the virtues of contentment and the rest and became very greedy. At the beginning of the rains he tried two or three monasteries, leaving at one an umbrella or a shoe, at one a walking-stick or a water-pot, and dwelling in one himself. He began the rains in a country-monastery, and saying, "The Brethren must live contentedly," explained to the Brethren, as if he were making the moon rise in the sky, the way to the noble state of content, praising contentment with the necessaries. Hearing him the Brethren threw away their pleasant robes and vessels, and took pots of clay and robes of dust-rags. He put the others in his own lodging, and when the rains and the pavāraā festival were over he filled a cart and went to Jetavana. On the way, behind a monastery in the forest, wrapping his feet with creepers and saying, "Surely something can be got here," he entered the monastery. Two old Brethren had spent the rains there: they had got two coarse cloaks and one fine blanket, and, as they could not divide them, they were pleased to see him, thinking, "This Elder will divide these between us," and said, "Sir, we cannot divide this which is raiment for the rains; we have a dispute about it, do you divide it between us." He consented and giving the two coarse cloaks to them he took the blanket, saying, "This falls to me who know the rules of discipline," and went away. These Elders, who loved the blanket, went with him to Jetavana, and told the matter to the Brethren who knew the rules, saying, "Is it right for those who know the rules to devour plunder thus?" The Brethren seeing the pile of robes and bowls brought by the Elder Upananda, said, "Sir, you have great merit, you have gained much food and raiment." He said, "Sirs, where is my merit? I gained this in such and such a manner," telling them all. In the Hall of Truth they raised a talk, saying, "Sirs, Upananda, of the Sakya tribe, is very covetous and greedy." [333] The Master, finding their subject, said, "Brothers, Upananda's deeds are not suited for progress; when a Brother explains progress to another he should first act suitably himself and then preach to others."
Yourself first stablish in propriety,
Then teach; the wise should not self-seeking be.
By this stanza of the Dhammapada he showed the law and said, "Brothers, Upananda is not covetous for the first time; he was so before and he plundered men's property before": and so he told an old tale.

Once upon a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was a tree-spirit by a river-bank. A jackal, named Māyāvī, had taken a wife and lived in a place by that river-bank. One day his mate said to him, "Husband, a longing has come upon me: I desire to eat a fresh rohita fish." He said, "Be easy, I will bring it you," and

going by the river he wrapt his feet in creepers, and went along the bank. At the moment, two otters, Gambhīracārī and Anutīracārī, were standing on the bank looking for fish. Gambhīracārī saw a great rohita fish, and entering the water with a bound he took it by the tail. The fish was strong and went away dragging him. He called to the other, "This great fish will be enough for both of us, come and aid me," speaking the first stanza:—
Friend Anutīracārī, rush to my aid, I pray:
I've caught a great fish: but by force he's carrying me away.
[334] Hearing him, the other spoke the second stanza:—
Gambhīracārī, luck to you! your grip be firm and stout,
And as a roc would lift a snake, I'll lift the fellow out.
Then the two together took out the rohita fish, laid him on the ground and killed him: but saying each to the other, "You divide him," they quarrelled and could not divide him: and so sat down, leaving him. At the moment the jackal came to the spot. Seeing him, they both saluted him and said, "Lord of the grey grass-colour, this fish was taken by both of us together: a dispute arose because we could not divide him: do you make an equal division and part it," speaking the third stanza:—
A strife arose between us, mark! O thou of grassy hue,
Let our contention, honoured sir, be settled fair by you.
The jackal hearing them, said, declaring his own strength:—
I've arbitrated many a case and done it peacefully:
Let your contention, honoured sirs, be settled fair by me.
Having spoken that stanza, and making the division, he spoke this stanza:—
Tail, Anutīracārī; Gambhīracārī, head:
The middle to the arbiter will properly be paid.
[335] So having divided the fish, he said, "You eat head and tail without quarrelling," and seizing the middle portion in his mouth he ran away before their eyes. They sat downcast, as if they had lost a thousand pieces, and spoke the sixth stanza:—
But for our strife, it would have long sufficed us without fail:
But now the jackal takes the fish, and leaves us head and tail.
The jackal was pleased and thinking "Now I will give my wife rohita fish to eat," he went to her. She saw him coming and saluting him spoke a stanza:—
Even as a king is glad to join a kingdom to his rule,
So I am glad to see my lord to-day with his mouth full.

Then she asked him about the means of attainment, speaking a stanza:—
How, being of the land, have you from water caught a fish?
How did you do the feat, my lord? pray answer to my wish.
The jackal, explaining the means to her, spoke the next stanza:—
By strife it is their weakness comes, by strife their means decay:
By strife the otters lost their prize: Māyāvi, eat the prey.
[336] There is another stanza uttered by the Perfect Wisdom of Buddha:—
Even so when strife arises among men,
They seek an arbiter: he's leader then:
Their wealth decays, and the king's coffers gain.

After the lesson, the Master declared the Truths and identified the, Birth:—"At that time the jackal was Upananda, the otters the two old men, the tree-spirit who witnessed the cause was myself."

Footnotes

205:1 Cf. Folk-lore Journal, iv. 52, Tibetan Tales, p. 332.


No. 401.

DASAṆṆAKA-JĀTAKA.

"Dasanna's good sword," etc.—The Master told this, when living in Jetavana, concerning the temptation of a Brother by his wife when a layman. The Brother confessed that he was backsliding for this reason. The Master said, "That woman does you harm: formerly too you were dying of mental sickness owing to her, and got life owing to wise men," and so he told a tale of old.

[337] Once upon a time when the great king Maddava was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta wan born in a brahmin household. They called his name young Senaka. When he grew up he learned all the sciences at Takkasilā, and coming back to Benares he became king Maddava's counsellor in things temporal and spiritual, and being called wise Senaka he was looked upon in all the city as the sun or the moon. The son of the king's household priest came to wait on the king and seeing the chief queen adorned with all ornaments and exceedingly beautiful, he became enamoured, and

when he went home lay without taking food. His comrades enquired of him and he told them the matter. The king said, "The household priest's son does not appear, how is this?" When he heard the cause, he sent for him and said, "I give her to you for seven days, spend those days at your house and on the eighth send her back." He said, "Very well," and taking her to his house took delight with her. They became enamoured of each other, and keeping it secret they fled by the house door and came to the country of another king. No man knew the place they went to, and their path was like the way of a ship. The king made proclamation by drum round the city, and though he sought in many ways he did not find the place whither she had gone. Then great sorrow for her fell upon him: his heart became hot and poured out blood: after that blood flowed from his entrails, and his sickness became great. The great royal physicians could not cure him. The Bodhisatta thought, "The disease is not in the king, he is touched by mental sickness because he sees not his wife: I will cure him by a certain means"; so he instructed the king's wise counsellors, Āyura and Pukkusa by name, saying, "The king has no sickness, except mental sickness because he sees not the queen: now he is a great helper to us and we will cure him by a certain means: [338] we will have a gathering in the palace-yard and make a man who knows how to do it swallow a sword: we will put the king at a window and make him look down on the gathering: the king seeing the man swallow a sword will ask, "Is there anything harder than that?" Then, my lord Āyura, you should make answer, "It is harder to say "I give up so and so": then he will ask you, my lord Pukkusa, and you should make answer, "O king, if a man says, "I give up so and so" and does not give it, his word is fruitless, no men live or eat or drink by such words; but they who do according to that word and give the thing according to their promise, they do a thing harder than the other: then I will find what to do next." So he made a gathering. Then these three wise men went and told the king, saying, "O great king, there is a gathering in the palace-yard; if men look down on it their sorrow becomes joy, let us go thither": so they took the king, and opening a window made him look down on the gathering. Many people were showing off each his own art which he knew: and a man was swallowing a good sword of thirty-three inches and sharp of edge. The king seeing him thought, "This man is swallowing the sword, I will ask these wise men if there is anything harder than that": so he asked Āyura, speaking the first stanza:—
 1
Dasanna's good sword thirsts for blood, its edge is sharpened perfectly:
Yet ’midst the crowd he swallows it: a harder feat there cannot be:
I ask if anything is hard compared to this: pray answer me.

[339] Then he spoke the second stanza in answer:—
Greed may lure a man to swallow swords though sharpened perfectly:
But to say, "I give this freely," that a harder feat would be;
All things else are easy; royal Māgadha, I've answered thee.
When the king heard wise Āyura's words, he thought, "So then it is harder to say, "I give this thing," than to swallow a sword: I said, "I give my queen to the priest's son": I have done a very hard thing": and so his sorrow at heart became a little lighter. Then thinking, "Is there anything harder than to say, "I give this thing to another"?" he talked with wise Pukkusa and spoke the third stanza:—
Āyura has solved my question, wise in all philosophy:
Pukkusa I ask the question now, if harder feat there be:
Is there aught that's hard compared to this? pray answer me.
The wise Pukkusa in answer to him spoke the fourth stanza:—
Not by words men live, and not by language uttered fruitlessly:
But to give and not regret it, that a greater feat would be:
All things else are easy; royal Māgadha, I've answered thee.
[340] The king, hearing this, considered, "I first said, "I will give the queen to the priest's son," and then I did according to my word and gave her: surely I have done a hard thing": so his sorrow became lighter. Then it came into his mind, "There is no one wiser than wise Senaka, I will ask this question of him": and asking him he spoke the fifth stanza:—
Pukkusa has solved my question, wise in all philosophy:
Senaka I ask the question now, if harder feat there be:
Is there aught that's hard compared to this? pray answer me.
So Senaka spoke the sixth stanza in answer to him:—
If a man should give a gift, or small or great, in charity,
Nor regret the giving after: that a harder feat would be:
All things else are easy: royal Māgadha, I've answered thee.
The king, hearing the Bodhisatta's words, reflected: "I gave the queen to the priest's son of my own thought: [341] now I cannot control my thought, I sorrow and pine: this is not worthy of me. If she loved me she would not forsake her kingdom and flee away: what have I to do with her when she has not loved me but fled away?" As he thought thus, all his sorrow rolled away and departed like a drop of water on a lotus leaf. That instant his entrails were at rest. He became well and happy, and praised the Bodhisatta, speaking the final stanza:—
Āyura answered question, good Pukkusa as well:
The words of Senaka the wise all answers do excel.
And after this praise he gave him much wealth in his delight


After the lesson, the Master declared the Truths, and identified the Birth:—after the Truths, the backsliding Brother was established in the fruition of the First Path:—"At that time the queen was the wife of his layman days, the king the backsliding Brother, Āyura was Moggallāna, Pukkusa was Sāriputta, and the wise Senaka was myself."

Footnotes

208:1A kingdom in Central India, apparently a seat of the sword-making art.


No. 402.

SATTUBHASTA-JĀTAKA. 1

"Thou art confused," etc.—The Master told this when staying in Jetavana, concerning the Perfection of Wisdom. The occasion of the story will appear in the Ummagga-Birth. 2

Once upon a time a king called Janaka was reigning in Benares. At that time the Bodhisatta was born in a brahmin family, and they called his name young Senaka. When he grew up he learned all the arts at Takkasilā, and returning to Benares saw the king. The king set him in the place of minister and gave him great glory. [342] He taught the king things temporal and spiritual. Being a pleasant preacher of the law he established the king in the five precepts, in alms-giving, in keeping the fasts, in the ten ways of right action, and so established him in the path of virtue. Throughout the kingdom it was as it were the time of the appearing of the Buddhas. On the fortnightly fast the king, the viceroys and others would all assemble and decorate the place of meeting. The Bodhisatta taught the law in a decorated room in the middle of a deer-skin-couch with the power of a Buddha, and his word was like the preaching of Buddhas. Then a certain old brahmin begging for money-alms got a thousand pieces, left them in a brahmin family and went to seek alms again. When he had gone, that family spent all his pieces. He came back and would have his pieces brought him. The brahmin, being unable to give them to him, gave him his daughter to wife. The other brahmin took her and made his dwelling in a brahmin village not far from Benares. Because of her youth his wife was unsatisfied in desires and sinned with another young brahmin. There are sixteen things that cannot be satisfied: and what are these sixteen? The sea is not satisfied with all rivers, nor

the fire with fuel, nor a king with his kingdom, nor a fool with sins, nor a woman with three things, intercourse, adornment and child-bearing, nor a brahmin with sacred texts, nor a sage with ecstatic meditation, nor a sekha 1 with honour, nor one free from desire with penance, nor the energetic man with energy, nor the talker with talk, nor the politic man with the council, nor the believer with serving the church, nor the liberal man with giving away, nor the learned with hearing the law, nor the four congregations 2 with seeing the Buddha. So this brahmin woman [343], being unsatisfied with intercourse, wished to put her husband away and do her sin with boldness. So one day in her evil purpose she lay down. When he said, "How is it, wife?" she answered, "Brahmin, I cannot do the work of your house, get me a maid." "Wife, I have no money, what shall I give to get her?" "Seek for money by begging for alms and so get her." "Then, wife, get ready something for my journey." She filled a skin-bag with baked meal and unbaked meal, and gave them to him. The brahmin, going through villages, towns and cities, got seven hundred pieces, and thinking, "This money is enough to buy slaves, male and female," he was returning to his own village: at a certain place convenient for water he opened his sack, and eating some meal he went down to drink water without tying the mouth. Then a black snake in a hollow tree, smelling the meal, entered the bag and lay down in a coil eating the meal. The brahmin came, and without looking inside fastened the sack and putting it on his shoulder went his way. Then a spirit living in a tree, sitting in a hollow of the trunk, said to him on the way, "Brahmin, if you stop on the way you will die, if you go home to-day your wife will die," and vanished. He looked, but not seeing the spirit was afraid and troubled with the fear of death, and so came to the gate of Benares weeping and lamenting. It was the fast on the fifteenth day, the day of the Bodhisatta's preaching, seated on the decorated seat of the law, and a multitude with perfumes and flowers and the like in their hands came in troops to hear the preaching. The brahmin said, "Where are ye going?" and was told, "O brahmin, to-day wise Senaka preaches the law with sweet voice and the power of a Buddha: do you not know?" He thought, "They say he is a wise preacher, and I am troubled with the fear of death: wise men [344] are able to take away even great sorrow: it is right for me too to go there and hear the law." So he went with them, and when the assembly and the king among them had sat down round about the Bodhisatta, he stood at the outside, not far from the seat of the law, with his mealsack on his shoulder, afraid with the fear of death. The Bodhisatta preached as if he were bringing down the river of heaven or showering ambrosia. The multitude became well pleased, and making applause listened to the

preaching. Wise men have far sight. At that moment the Bodhisatta, opening his eyes gracious with the five graces, surveyed the assembly on every side and, seeing that brahmin, thought, "This great assembly has become well pleased and listens to the law, making applause, but that one brahmin is ill pleased and weeps: there must be some sorrow within him to cause his tears: as if touching rust with acid, or making a drop of water roll from a lotus leaf, I will teach him the law, making him free from sorrow and well pleased in mind." So he called him, "Brahmin, I am wise Senaka, now will I make thee free from sorrow, speak boldly," and so talking with him he spoke the first stanza:—
Thou art confused in thought, disturbed in sense,
Tears streaming from thine eyes are evidence;
What hast thou lost, or what dost wish to gain
By coming hither? Give me answer plain.
[345] Then the brahmin, declaring his cause of sorrow, spoke the second stanza:—
If I go home my wife it is must die,
If I go not, the yakkha said, ’tis I;
That is the thought that pierces cruelly:
Explain the matter, Senaka, to me.
The Bodhisatta, hearing the brahmin's words, spread the net of knowledge as if throwing a net in the sea, thinking, "There are many causes of death to beings in this world: some die sunk in the sea, or seized therein by ravenous fish, some falling in the Ganges, or seized by crocodiles, some falling from a tree or pierced by a thorn, some struck by weapons of divers kinds, some by eating poison or hanging or falling from a precipice or by extreme cold or attacked by diseases of divers kinds, so they die: now among so many causes of death from which cause shall this brahmin die if he stays on the road to-day, or his wife if he goes home?" As he considered, he saw the sack on the brahmin's shoulder and thought, "There must be a snake who has gone into that sack, and entering he must have gone in from the smell of the meal when the brahmin at his breakfast had eaten some meal and gone to drink water without fastening the sack's mouth: the brahmin coming back after drinking water must have gone on after fastening and taking up the sack without seeing that the snake had entered: [346] if he stays on the road, he will say at evening when he rests, "I will eat some meal," and opening the sack will put in his hand: then the snake will bite him in the hand and destroy his life: this will be the cause of his death if he stays on the road: but if he goes home the sack will come into his wife's hand; she will say, "I will look at the ware within," and opening the sack put in her hand, then the snake will bite her and destroy her life, and this will be the cause of her death if he goes home to-day." This he knew by his knowledge of expedients. Then this

came into his mind, "The snake must be a black snake, brave and fearless; when the sack strikes against the brahmin's broadside, he shows no motion or quivering; he shows no sign of his being there amidst such an assembly: therefore he must be a black snake, brave and fearless:" from his knowledge of expedients he knew this as if he was seeing with a divine eye. So as if he had been a man who had stood by and seen the snake enter the sack, deciding by his knowledge of expedients, the Bodhisatta answering the brahmin's question in the royal assembly spoke the third stanza:—
First with many a doubt I deal,
    Now my tongue the truth declares;
Brahmin, in your bag of meal
    A snake has entered unawares.
[347] So saying, he asked, "O brahmin, is there any meal in that sack of yours?" "There is, O sage." "Did you eat some meal to-day at your breakfast time?" "Yes, O sage." "Where were you sitting?" "In a wood, at the root of a tree." "When you ate the meal, and went to drink water, did you fasten the sack's mouth or not?" "I did not, O sage." "When you drank water and came back, did you fasten the sack after looking in?" "I fastened it without looking in, O sage." "O brahmin, when you went to drink water, I think the snake entered the sack owing to the smell of the meal without your knowledge: such is the case: therefore put down your sack, set it in the midst of the assembly and opening the mouth, stand back and taking a stick beat the sack with it: then when you see a black snake coming out with its hood spread and hissing, you will have no doubt:" so he spoke the fourth stanza:—
Take a stick and beat the sack,
    Dumb and double-tongued is he;
Cease your mind with doubts to rack;
   Ope the sack, the snake you'll see.
The brahmin, hearing the Great Being's words, did so, though alarmed and frightened. The snake came out of the sack when his hood was struck with the stick, and stood looking at the crowd.

[348] The Master, explaining the matter, spoke the fifth stanza:
Frightened, ’midst the assembled rout,
    String of meal-sack he untied;
Angry crept a serpent out,
    Hood erect, in all his pride.
When the snake came out with hood erect, there was a forecast of the Bodhisatta as the omniscient Buddha. The multitude began waving cloths and snapping fingers in thousands, the showers of the seven precious stones were as showers from a thick cloud, cries of "good" were raised in hundreds of thousands,

and the noise was like the splitting of the earth. This answering of such a question with the power of a Buddha is not the power of birth, nor the power of men rich in gifts and high family: of what is it the power then? Of knowledge: the man of knowledge makes spiritual insight to increase, opens the door of the noble Paths, enters the great and endless nirvāna and masters the perfection of disciple-hood, pacceka-buddha-hood, and perfect buddha-hood: knowledge is the best among the qualities that bring the great and endless nirvana, the rest are the attendants of knowledge: and so it is said:—
"Wisdom is best," the good confess,
    Like the moon in starry skies;
Virtue, fortune, righteousness,
    Are the handmaids of the wise.

When the question had been so answered by the Bodhisatta, a certain snake-charmer made a mouth-band for the snake, caught him and let him loose in the forest. The brahmin, coming up to the king, saluted him and made obeisance, and praising him spoke half a stanza:—
Great, king Janaka, thy gain,
Seeing Senaka the wise.
[349] After praising the king, he took seven hundred pieces from the bag and praising the Bodhisatta, he spoke a stanza and a half wishing to give a gift in delight:—
Dread thy wisdom; veils are vain,
Brahmin, to thy piercing eyes.
These seven hundred pieces, see,
Take them all, I give them thee;
’Tis to thee I owe my life,
And the welfare of my wife.

Hearing this, the Bodhisatta spoke the eighth stanza:—
For reciting poetry
    Wise men can't accept a wage;
Rather let us give to thee,
    Ere thou take the homeward stage.
So saying, the Bodhisatta made a full thousand pieces to be given to the brahmin, and asked him, "By whom were you sent to beg for money?" "By my wife, O sage." [350] "Is your wife old or young?" "Young, O sage." "Then she is doing sin with another, and sent you away thinking to do so in security: if you take these pieces home, she will give to her lover the pieces won by your labour: therefore you should not go home straight, but only after leaving the pieces outside the town at the root of a tree or somewhere:" so he sent him away. He, coming near the village, left his pieces at the root of a tree, and came home in the evening. His wife at that moment was seated with her lover. The brahmin stood at the door and said, "Wife." She recognise his voice, and putting out the light

opened the door: when the brahmin came in, she took the other and put him at the door: then coming back and not seeing anything in the sack she asked, "Brahmin, what alms have you got on your journey?" "A thousand pieces." "Where is it?" "It is left at such and such a place: never mind, we will get it to-morrow." She went and told her lover. He went and took it as if it were his own treasure. Next day the brahmin went, and not seeing the pieces came to the Bodhisatta, who said, "What is the matter, brahmin?" "I don't see the pieces, O sage." "Did you tell your wife?" "Yes, O sage." Knowing that the wife had told her lover, the Bodhisatta asked, "Brahmin, is there a brahmin who is a friend of your wife's?" "There is, O sage." "Is there one who is a friend of yours?" "Yes, O sage." Then the Great Being caused seven days' expenses to be given him and said, "Go, do you two invite and entertain the first day fourteen brahmins, seven for yourself and seven for your wife: from next day onwards take one less each day, till on the seventh day you invite one brahmin and your wife one: then if you notice that the brahmin your wife asks on the seventh day has come every time, tell me." [351] The brahmin did so, and told the Bodhisatta, "O sage, I have observed the brahmin who is always our guest." The Bodhisatta sent men with him to bring that other brahmin, and asked him, "Did you take a thousand pieces belonging to this brahmin from the root of such and such a tree?" "I did not, O sage." "You do not know that I am the wise Senaka; I will make you fetch those pieces." He was afraid and confessed, saying, "I took them." "What did you do?" "I put them in such and such a place, O sage." The Bodhisatta asked the first brahmin, "Brahmin, will you keep your wife or take another?" "Let me keep her, O sage." The Bodhisatta sent men to fetch the pieces and the wife, and gave the brahmin the pieces from the thief's hand; he punished the other, removing him from the city, punished also the wife, and gave great honour to the brahmin, making him dwell near himself.

After the lesson, the Master declared the Truths, and identified the Birth:—At the end of the Truths, many attained the fruition of the First Path:—"At that time the brahmin was Ānanda, the spirit Sāriputta, the assembly was the church of Buddha, and wise Senaka was myself."

Footnotes

210:1 See Folk-lore Journal, iv. 175, Tibetan Tales, viii.
210:2 No. 546, vol. vi.
211:1 A holy man who has not attained sainthood.
211:2 Brethren, Sisters, laymen and laywomen.

No. 403.

AṬṬHISENA-JĀTAKA.

"Aṭṭhisena, many beggars," etc.—The Master told this when dwelling in the shrine called Aggāava near Āavi, concerning the regulations for the building of cells. 1 The occasion was told in the Maikaṇṭha Birth 2 above. The Master addressed the Brethren, saying, "Brethren, formerly [352] before Buddha was born in the world, priests of other religions, even though offered their choice by kings, never asked for alms, holding that begging from others was not agreeable or pleasant," and so he told the tale of old time.

Once upon a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born in a brahmin household in a certain village, and they called his name young Aṭṭhisena. When he grew up, he learned all the arts at Takkasilā, and afterwards seeing the misery of desires he took the religious life, and reaching the higher Faculties and Attainments, he dwelt long in the Himālaya: then coming down among men to get salt and vinegar, he reached Benares, and after staying in a garden he came begging next day to the king's court. The king, being pleased with his bearing and manner, sent for him, and set him on a seat on the terrace, giving him good food: then receiving his thanks he was pleased, and exacting a promise made the Bodhisatta dwell in the royal garden, and went to wait on him two or three times each day. One day, being pleased with his preaching of the law, he gave him a choice, saying, "Tell me whatever you desire, beginning from my kingdom." The Bodhisatta did not say, "Give me so and so." Others ask for whatever they desire, saying, "Give me this," and the king gives it, if not attached to it. One day the king thought, "Other suitors and mendicants ask me to give them so and so; but the noble Aṭṭhisena, ever since I offered him a choice, asks for nothing; he is wise and skilful in device: I will ask him." So one day after the early meal he sat on one side, and asking him as to the cause of other men's making suits and his own making none, he spoke the first stanza:—
Aṭṭhisena, many beggars, though they're strangers utterly,
Throng to me with their petitions: why hast thou no suit to me?

[353] Hearing him the Bodhisatta spoke the second stanza:—
Neither suitor, nor rejector of a suit, can pleasant be:
That's the reason, be not angry, why I have no suit to thee.
Hearing his words the king spoke three stanzas:—
He who lives by sueing, and has not at proper season sued,
Makes another fall from merit, fails to gain a livelihood.
He who lives by sueing, and has aye at proper season sued,
Makes another man win merit, gains himself a livelihood.

Men of wisdom are not angry when they see the suitors throng;
Speak, my holy friend; the boon thou askest never can be wrong.

[354] So the Bodhisatta, even though given the choice of the kingdom, made no suit. When the king's wish had been so expressed, the Bodhisatta to show him the priests' way said, "O great king, these suits are preferred by men of worldly desires and householders, not by priests: from their ordination priests must have a pure life unlike a householder: " and so showing the priests' way, he spoke the sixth stanza:—
Sages never make petitions, worthy laymen ought to know:
Silent stands the noble suitor: sages make petition so.
[355] The king hearing the Bodhisatta's words said, "Sir, if a wise attendant of his own knowledge gives what ought to be given to his friend, so I give to you such and such a thing," and so he spoke the seventh stanza:—
Brahmin, I offer thee a thousand kine,
    Red kine, and eke the leader of the herd:
Hearing but now those generous deeds of thine,
    I too in turn to generous deeds am stirred.
When he said this, the Bodhisatta refused, saying, "Great king, I took the religious life free from defilement: I have no need of cows." The king abode by his admonition; doing alms and other good works he became destined for heaven, and not falling away from his meditation, was born in the Brahma world.

After the lesson, the Master declared the Truths and identified the Birth:—After the Truths many were established in the fruition of the First Path:—"At that time the king was Ānanda, Aṭṭhisena was myself."

Footnotes

216:1 See above, p. 52.
216:2 No. 253, vol. ii.



No. 404.

KAPI-JĀTAKA. 1

"Let not the wise man," etc.—The Master told this tale while dwelling in Jetavana, concerning Devadatta being swallowed up by the earth. Finding that the Brethren were talking about this in the Hall of Truth, he said, "Devadatta has not been destroyed with his company now for the first time: he was destroyed before," and he told an old tale.

Once upon a time when Brahmadatta was king in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born in the womb of a monkey, and lived in the king's garden with a retinue of five hundred monkeys. [356] Devadatta was also born in the womb of a monkey, and lived there also with a retinue of five hundred monkeys. Then one day when the king's family priest had gone to the garden, bathed and adorned himself, one tricky monkey going ahead of him sat above the gateway arch of the garden, and let excrement fall on the priest's head as he went out. When the priest looked up, he let it fall again in his mouth. The priest turned back, saying in threat to the monkeys, "Very well, I shall know how to deal with you," and went away after washing. They told the Bodhisatta that he had been angry and threatened the monkeys. He made announcement to the thousand monkeys, "It is not well to dwell near the habitation of the angry; let the whole troop of monkeys flee and go elsewhere." A disobedient monkey took his own retinue and did not flee, saying, "I will see about it afterwards." The Bodhisatta took his own retinue and went to the forest. One day a female slave pounding rice had put some rice out in the sun and a goat was eating it: getting a blow with a torch and running away on fire, he was rubbing himself on the wall of a grass-hut near an elephant-stable. The fire caught the grass-hut and from it the elephant-stable; in it the elephants' backs were burnt, and the elephant doctors were attending the elephants. The family priest was always going about watching for an opportunity of catching the monkeys. He was sitting in attendance on the king, and the king said, "Sir, many of our elephants have been injured, and the elephant doctors do not know how to cure them; do you know any remedy?" "I do, great king." "What is it?" "Monkey's fat, great king." "How shall we get it?" "There are many monkeys in the garden." The king said, "Kill monkeys in the garden and get their fat." The archers went and killed five hundred monkeys with arrows. One old

monkey fled although wounded by an arrow, and though he did not fall on the spot [357], fell when he came to the Bodhisatta's place of abode. The monkeys said, "He has died when he reached our place of abode," and told the Bodhisatta that he was dead from a wound he had got. He came and sat down among the assembly of monkeys, and spoke these stanzas by way of exhorting the monkeys with the exhortation of the wise, which is "Men dwelling near their enemies perish in this way:"—
Let not the wise man dwell where dwells his foe:
One night, two nights, so near will bring him woe.
A fool's a foe to all who trust his word:
One monkey brought distress on all the herd.

A foolish chief, wise in his own conceit,
Comes ever, like this monkey, to defeat.

A strong fool is not good to guard the herd,
Curse to his kindred, like the decoy-bird.

One strong and wise is good the herd to guard,
Like Indra to the Gods, his kin's reward.

Who virtue, wisdom, learning, doth possess,
His deeds himself and other men will bless.

Therefore virtue, knowledge, learning, and himself let him regard,
Either be a lonely Saint or o'er the flock keep watch and ward.

[358] So the Bodhisatta, becoming king of monkeys, explained the way of learning the Discipline.

After the lesson, the Master identified the Birth: "At that time the disobedient monkey was Devadatta, his troop was Devadatta's company and the wise king was myself."

Footnotes

218:1 Cf. Kākajātaka, no. 140, vol. i. and Tibetan Tales, xliii.

No. 405.

BAKA-BRAHMA-JĀTAKA. 1

"Seventy and two," etc.—The Master told this tale while dwelling in Jetavana, concerning the brahma 2 Baka. In him a false doctrine arose, namely, "This present existence is perpetual, permanent, eternal, unchanging: apart from it there is no salvation or release at all." In a former birth this brahma had once

practised meditation, so he was born in the Vehapphala heaven. Having spent there an existence of five hundred kalpas, he was born in the Subhakiṇṇa heaven; after sixty-four kalpas there he passed and was born in the Ābhassara heaven, where existence is for eight kalpas. It was there that this false doctrine arose in him. He forgot that he had passed from higher Brahmaloka heavens and had been born in that heaven, and perceiving neither of these things had taken up the false doctrine. The Lord, understanding his reflections, [359] as easily as a strong man can extend his bent arm or bend his extended arm, disappearing from Jetavana, appeared in that Brahmaloka. The brahma, seeing the Lord, said, "Come hither, my lord; welcome, my lord; it is a long time, my lord, since thou hast taken this opportunity, even for coming hither; this world, my lord, is perpetual, it is permanent, it is eternal, it is absolute, it is unchanging; this world is not born, it decays not, it dies not, it passes not away, it is not born again: apart from this world there is no other salvation beyond." When this was said, the Lord said to Baka the brahma, "Baka the brahma has come to ignorance, he has come to ignorance, when he will say that a thing which is not permanent is permanent, and so on, and that there is no other salvation apart from this when there is another salvation." Hearing this the brahma thought, "This one presses me hard, finding out exactly what I say," and as a timid thief, after receiving a few blows, says, "Am I the only thief? so and so and so and so are thieves too," showing his associates; so he, in fear of the Lord's questioning, showing that others were his associates, spoke the first stanza:—
Seventy and two, O Gotama, are we
Righteous and great, from birth and age we're free:
Our heaven is wisdom's home, there's nought above:
And many others will this view approve.
Hearing his words, the Master spoke the second stanza:—
[360]
Short your existence in this world: ’tis wrong,
Baka, to think existence here is long:
A hundred thousand aeons past and gone
All your existence well to me is known.
Hearing this, Baka spoke the third stanza:—
Of wisdom infinite, O Lord, am I:
Birth, age, and sorrow, all beneath me lie:
What should I do with good works, long ago?
Yet tell me something, Lord, that I should know.
Then the Lord, relating and showing him things of past time, spoke four stanzas:—
To many a man of old thou gavest drink
For thirst and parching drought ready to sink:
That virtuous deed of thine so long ago
Remembering, as if waked from sleep, I know.
[361] By Ei's bank thou sett’st the people free
When chained and held in close captivity:
That virtuous deed of thine so long ago
Remembering, as if waked from sleep, I know.

By Ganges' stream the man thou didst set free,
Whose boat was seized by nāga, cruelly
Lusting for flesh, and save him mightily:
That virtuous deed of thine, so long ago
Remembering, as if waked from sleep, I know.


And I was Kappa, thy disciple true,
Thy wisdom and thy virtues all I knew:
And now those deeds of thine so long ago
Remembering, as if waked from sleep, I know.
[363] Hearing his own deeds from the Master's discourse, Baka gave thanks and spoke this last stanza:—
Thou knowest every life that hath been mine:
Buddha thou art, all wisdom sure is thine:
And sure thy glorious majesty and state
Even this Brahma world illuminate.
So the Master, making known his quality as Buddha and expounding the Law, shewed forth the Truths. At the end the thoughts of ten thousand brahmas were freed from attachments and sins. So the Lord became the refuge of many brahmas, and going back from Brahmaloka to Jetavana preached the law in the way described and identified the Birth: "At that time Baka the brahma was the ascetic Kesava, Kappa the disciple was myself."

Footnotes

219:1 Cf. Hardy, Manual of Budhism, p. 348.
219:2 A brahma means an angel in one of the Brahma-loka heavens, three of which are mentioned below.

 





Om Tat Sat
                                                        
(Continued...) 



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







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