Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 89. Kuhaka-Jātaka
No. 89.
KUHAKA-JĀTAKA.
"How plausible." This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana about a
knave. The details of his knavery will be related in the Uddāla-jātaka 1.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, there lived hard by a
certain little village a shifty rascal of an ascetic, of the class which wears
long, matted hair. The squire of the place had a hermitage built in the forest
for him to dwell in, and used to provide excellent fare for him in his own
house. Taking the matted-haired rascal to be a model of goodness, and living as
he did in fear of robbers, the squire brought a hundred pieces of gold to the
hermitage and there buried them, bidding the ascetic keep watch over them. "No
need to say that, sir, to a man who has renounced the world; we hermits never
covet other folks' goods." "It is well, sir," said the squire, who went off with
full confidence in the other's protestations. Then the rascally ascetic thought
to himself, "there's enough here [376] to keep a man all his life long."
Allowing a few days to elapse first, he removed the gold and buried it by the
wayside, returning to dwell as before in his hermitage. Next day, after a meal
of rice at the squire's house, the ascetic said, "It is now a, long time, sir,
since I began to be supported by you; and to live long in one place is. like
living in the world,--which is forbidden to professed ascetics. Wherefore I must
needs depart." And though the squire pressed him to stay, nothing could overcome
this determination.
p. 219
"Well, then, if it must be so, go your way, sir," said the squire; and he
escorted the ascetic to the outskirts before he left him. After going a little
way the ascetic thought that it would be a good thing to cajole the squire; so,
putting a straw in his matted hair, back he turned again. "What brings you
back?" asked the squire. "A straw from your roof, sir, had stuck in my hair;
and, as we hermits may not take anything which is not bestowed upon us, I have
brought it back to you." "Throw it down, sir, and go your way," said the squire,
who thought, to himself, "Why, he won't take so much as a straw which does not
belong to him! What a sensitive nature!" Highly delighted with the ascetic, the
squire bade him farewell.
Now at that time it chanced that the Bodhisatta, who was on his way to the
border-district for trading purposes, had halted for the night at that village.
Hearing what the ascetic said, the suspicion was aroused in his mind that the
rascally ascetic must have robbed the squire of something; and he asked the
latter whether he had deposited anything in the ascetic's care.
"Yes,--a hundred pieces of gold."
"Well, just go and see if it's all safe."
Away went the squire to the hermitage, and looked, and found his money gone.
Running back to the Bodhisatta, he cried, "It's not there." "The thief is none
other than that long-haired rascal of an ascetic," said the Bodhisatta; "let us
pursue and catch him." So away they hastened in hot pursuit. When they caught
the rascal they kicked and cuffed him, till he discovered to them where he had
hidden the money. When he procured the gold, the Bodhisatta, looking at it,
scornfully remarked to the ascetic, "So a hundred pieces of gold didn't trouble
your conscience so much as that straw!" And he rebuked him in this stanza:--
How plausible the story that the rascal told!
How heedful of the straw! How heedless of the gold!
[377] When the Bodhisatta had rebuked the fellow in this wise, he added,--"And
now take care, you hypocrite, that you don't play such a trick again." When his
life ended, the Bodhisatta passed away to fare thereafter according to his
deserts.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master said, "Thus you see, Brethren, that this Brother
was as knavish in the past as he is to-day." And he identified the Birth by
saying, "This knavish Brother was the knavish ascetic of those days, and I the
wise and good man."
Footnotes
218:1 No. 487.
Next: No. 90. Akataññu-Jātaka
Showing posts with label Ekanipata. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ekanipata. Show all posts
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Sarambha Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 88. Sārambha-Jātaka
No. 88.
SĀRAMBHA-JĀTAKA.
"Speak kindly."--This story was told by the Master while at Sāvatthi, about the
precept touching abusive language. The introductory story and the story of the
past are the same as in the Nandivisāla-jātaka above 1.
But in this case [375] there is the difference that the Bodhisatta was an ox
named Sārambha, and belonged to a brahmin of Takkasilā in the kingdom
p. 218
of Gandhāra. After telling the story of the past, the Master, as Buddha, uttered
this stanza:--
Speak kindly, revile not your fellow;
Love kindness; reviling breeds sorrow.
When the Master had ended his lesson he identified the Birth by saying, "Ānanda
was the brahmin of those days, Uppalavaṇṇā his wife, and I Sārambha."
Footnotes
217:1 No. 28.
Next: No. 89. Kuhaka-Jātaka
No. 88.
SĀRAMBHA-JĀTAKA.
"Speak kindly."--This story was told by the Master while at Sāvatthi, about the
precept touching abusive language. The introductory story and the story of the
past are the same as in the Nandivisāla-jātaka above 1.
But in this case [375] there is the difference that the Bodhisatta was an ox
named Sārambha, and belonged to a brahmin of Takkasilā in the kingdom
p. 218
of Gandhāra. After telling the story of the past, the Master, as Buddha, uttered
this stanza:--
Speak kindly, revile not your fellow;
Love kindness; reviling breeds sorrow.
When the Master had ended his lesson he identified the Birth by saying, "Ānanda
was the brahmin of those days, Uppalavaṇṇā his wife, and I Sārambha."
Footnotes
217:1 No. 28.
Next: No. 89. Kuhaka-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Mangala Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 87. Mangala-Jataka
No. 87.
MANGALA-JATAKA.
"Whoso renounces."--This story was told by the Master while at the Bamboo-grove
about a brahmin who was skilled in the prognostications [372] which can be drawn
from pieces of cloth 1. Tradition says that at Rājagaha dwelt a brahmin who was
superstitious and held false views, not believing in the Three Gems. This
brahmin was very rich and wealthy, abounding in substance; and a female mouse
gnawed a suit of clothes of his, which was lying by in a chest. One day after
bathing himself all over, he called for this suit, and then was told of the
mischief which the mouse had done. "If these clothes stop in the house," thought
he to himself, "they'll bring ill-luck; such an ill-omened thing is sure to
bring a curse. It is out of the question to give them to any of my children or
servants; for whosoever has them will bring misfortune on all around him. I must
have them thrown away in a charnel-ground 2; but how? I cannot hand them to
servants; for they might covet and keep them, to the ruin of my house. My son
must take them." So he called his son, and telling him the whole matter bade him
take his charge on a stick, without touching the clothes with his hand, and
fling them away in a charnel-ground. Then the son was to bathe himself all over
and return. Now that morning at dawn of day the Master looking
p. 216
round to see what persons could be led to the truth, became aware that the
father and son were predestined to attain salvation. So he betook himself in the
guise of a hunter on his way to hunt, to the charnel-ground, and sate down at
the entrance, emitting the six-coloured rays that mark a Buddha. Soon there came
to the spot the young brahmin, carefully carrying the clothes as his father had
bidden him, on the end of his stick, just as though he had a house-snake to
carry.
"What are you doing, young brahmin?" asked the Master.
"My good Gotama 1," was the reply, "this suit of clothes, having been gnawed by
mice, is like ill-luck personified, and as deadly as though steeped in venom;
wherefore my father, fearing that a servant might covet and retain the clothes,
has sent me with them. I promised that I would throw them away and bathe
afterwards; and that's the errand that has brought me here." "Throw the suit
away, then," said the Master; and the young brahmin did so. "They will just suit
me," said the Master, as he picked up the fate-fraught clothes before the young
man's very eyes, regardless of the latter's earnest warnings and repeated
entreaties to him not to take them; and he departed in the direction of the
Bamboo-grove.
Home in all haste ran the young brahmin, to tell his father how the Sage Gotama
had declared that the clothes would just suit him, and had persisted, in spite
of all warnings to the contrary, in taking the suit away with him to the
Bamboo-grove. "Those clothes," thought the brahmin to himself, "are bewitched
and accursed. Even the sage Gotama cannot wear them without destruction
befalling him; and that would bring me into disrepute. I will give the Sage
abundance of other garments and get him to throw that suit away." So with a
large number of robes he started in company of his son for the Bamboo-grove.
When he came upon the Master he stood respectfully on one side and spoke
thus,--"Is it indeed true, as I hear, that you, my good Gotama, [373] picked up
a suit of clothes in the charnel-ground?" "Quite true, brahmin." "My good
Gotama, that suit is accursed; if you make use of them, they will destroy you.
If you stand in need of clothes, take these and throw away that suit."
"Brahmin," replied the Master, "by open profession I have renounced the world,
and am content with the rags that lie by the roadside or bathing-places, or are
thrown away on dustheaps or in charnel-grounds. Whereas you have held your
superstitions in bygone days, as well as at the present time." So saying, at the
brahmin's request, he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time there reigned in the city of Rājagaha, in the kingdom of Magadha,
a righteous King of Magadha. In those days the Bodhisatta came to life again as
a brahmin of the North-west. Growing up, he renounced the world for the hermit's
life, won the Knowledges and the Attainments, and went to dwell in the
Himalayas. On one occasion, returning from the Himalayas, and taking up his
abode in the King's pleasaunce, he went on the second day into the city to
collect alms. Seeing him, the King had him summoned into the palace and there
provided with a seat and with food,--exacting a promise from him that he would
take up his abode in the pleasaunce. So the Bodhisatta used to receive his food
at the palace and dwell in the grounds.
p. 217
Now in those days there dwelt in that city a brahmin known as Cloth-omens. And
he had in a chest a suit of clothes which were gnawed by mice, and everything
came to pass just as in the foregoing story. But when the son was on his way to
the charnel-ground the Bodhisatta got there first and took his seat at the gate;
and, picking up the suit which the young brahmin threw away, he returned to the
pleasaunce. When the son told this to the old brahmin, the latter exclaimed, "It
will be the death of the King's ascetic"; and entreated the Bodhisatta to throw
that suit away, lest he should perish. But the ascetic replied, "Good enough for
us are the rags that are flung away in charnel-grounds. We have no belief in
superstitions about luck, which are not approved by Buddhas, Pacceka Buddhas, or
Bodhisattas; and therefore no wise man ought to be a believer in luck." Hearing
the truth thus expounded, the brahmin forsook his errors and took refuge in the
Bodhisatta. And the Bodhisatta, preserving his Insight unbroken, earned re-birth
thereafter in the Brahma Realm. [374.]
Having told this story, the Master, as Buddha, taught the Truth to the brahmin
in this stanza:--
Whose renounces omens, dreams and signs,
That man, from superstition's errors freed,
Shall triumph o’er the paired Depravities
And o’er Attachments to the end of time.
_____________________________
When the Master had thus preached his doctrine to the brahmin in the form of
this stanza, he proceeded further to preach the Four Truths, at the close
whereof that brahmin, with his son, attained to the First Path. The Master
identified the Birth by saying, "The father and son of to-day were also the
father and son of those days, and I myself the ascetic."
Footnotes
215:1 Cf. Tevijja Sutta translated by Rhys Davids in "Buddhist Suttas," p. 197.
215:2 An āmaka-susāna was an open space or grove in which corpses were exposed
for wild-beasts to eat, in order that the earth might not be defiled. Cf. the
Parsee 'Towers of Silence.'
216:1 In Pāli bho Gotama,--a form of familiar address. Brahmins are always
represented as presuming to say bho to the Buddha.
Next: No. 88. Sārambha-Jātaka
No. 87.
MANGALA-JATAKA.
"Whoso renounces."--This story was told by the Master while at the Bamboo-grove
about a brahmin who was skilled in the prognostications [372] which can be drawn
from pieces of cloth 1. Tradition says that at Rājagaha dwelt a brahmin who was
superstitious and held false views, not believing in the Three Gems. This
brahmin was very rich and wealthy, abounding in substance; and a female mouse
gnawed a suit of clothes of his, which was lying by in a chest. One day after
bathing himself all over, he called for this suit, and then was told of the
mischief which the mouse had done. "If these clothes stop in the house," thought
he to himself, "they'll bring ill-luck; such an ill-omened thing is sure to
bring a curse. It is out of the question to give them to any of my children or
servants; for whosoever has them will bring misfortune on all around him. I must
have them thrown away in a charnel-ground 2; but how? I cannot hand them to
servants; for they might covet and keep them, to the ruin of my house. My son
must take them." So he called his son, and telling him the whole matter bade him
take his charge on a stick, without touching the clothes with his hand, and
fling them away in a charnel-ground. Then the son was to bathe himself all over
and return. Now that morning at dawn of day the Master looking
p. 216
round to see what persons could be led to the truth, became aware that the
father and son were predestined to attain salvation. So he betook himself in the
guise of a hunter on his way to hunt, to the charnel-ground, and sate down at
the entrance, emitting the six-coloured rays that mark a Buddha. Soon there came
to the spot the young brahmin, carefully carrying the clothes as his father had
bidden him, on the end of his stick, just as though he had a house-snake to
carry.
"What are you doing, young brahmin?" asked the Master.
"My good Gotama 1," was the reply, "this suit of clothes, having been gnawed by
mice, is like ill-luck personified, and as deadly as though steeped in venom;
wherefore my father, fearing that a servant might covet and retain the clothes,
has sent me with them. I promised that I would throw them away and bathe
afterwards; and that's the errand that has brought me here." "Throw the suit
away, then," said the Master; and the young brahmin did so. "They will just suit
me," said the Master, as he picked up the fate-fraught clothes before the young
man's very eyes, regardless of the latter's earnest warnings and repeated
entreaties to him not to take them; and he departed in the direction of the
Bamboo-grove.
Home in all haste ran the young brahmin, to tell his father how the Sage Gotama
had declared that the clothes would just suit him, and had persisted, in spite
of all warnings to the contrary, in taking the suit away with him to the
Bamboo-grove. "Those clothes," thought the brahmin to himself, "are bewitched
and accursed. Even the sage Gotama cannot wear them without destruction
befalling him; and that would bring me into disrepute. I will give the Sage
abundance of other garments and get him to throw that suit away." So with a
large number of robes he started in company of his son for the Bamboo-grove.
When he came upon the Master he stood respectfully on one side and spoke
thus,--"Is it indeed true, as I hear, that you, my good Gotama, [373] picked up
a suit of clothes in the charnel-ground?" "Quite true, brahmin." "My good
Gotama, that suit is accursed; if you make use of them, they will destroy you.
If you stand in need of clothes, take these and throw away that suit."
"Brahmin," replied the Master, "by open profession I have renounced the world,
and am content with the rags that lie by the roadside or bathing-places, or are
thrown away on dustheaps or in charnel-grounds. Whereas you have held your
superstitions in bygone days, as well as at the present time." So saying, at the
brahmin's request, he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time there reigned in the city of Rājagaha, in the kingdom of Magadha,
a righteous King of Magadha. In those days the Bodhisatta came to life again as
a brahmin of the North-west. Growing up, he renounced the world for the hermit's
life, won the Knowledges and the Attainments, and went to dwell in the
Himalayas. On one occasion, returning from the Himalayas, and taking up his
abode in the King's pleasaunce, he went on the second day into the city to
collect alms. Seeing him, the King had him summoned into the palace and there
provided with a seat and with food,--exacting a promise from him that he would
take up his abode in the pleasaunce. So the Bodhisatta used to receive his food
at the palace and dwell in the grounds.
p. 217
Now in those days there dwelt in that city a brahmin known as Cloth-omens. And
he had in a chest a suit of clothes which were gnawed by mice, and everything
came to pass just as in the foregoing story. But when the son was on his way to
the charnel-ground the Bodhisatta got there first and took his seat at the gate;
and, picking up the suit which the young brahmin threw away, he returned to the
pleasaunce. When the son told this to the old brahmin, the latter exclaimed, "It
will be the death of the King's ascetic"; and entreated the Bodhisatta to throw
that suit away, lest he should perish. But the ascetic replied, "Good enough for
us are the rags that are flung away in charnel-grounds. We have no belief in
superstitions about luck, which are not approved by Buddhas, Pacceka Buddhas, or
Bodhisattas; and therefore no wise man ought to be a believer in luck." Hearing
the truth thus expounded, the brahmin forsook his errors and took refuge in the
Bodhisatta. And the Bodhisatta, preserving his Insight unbroken, earned re-birth
thereafter in the Brahma Realm. [374.]
Having told this story, the Master, as Buddha, taught the Truth to the brahmin
in this stanza:--
Whose renounces omens, dreams and signs,
That man, from superstition's errors freed,
Shall triumph o’er the paired Depravities
And o’er Attachments to the end of time.
_____________________________
When the Master had thus preached his doctrine to the brahmin in the form of
this stanza, he proceeded further to preach the Four Truths, at the close
whereof that brahmin, with his son, attained to the First Path. The Master
identified the Birth by saying, "The father and son of to-day were also the
father and son of those days, and I myself the ascetic."
Footnotes
215:1 Cf. Tevijja Sutta translated by Rhys Davids in "Buddhist Suttas," p. 197.
215:2 An āmaka-susāna was an open space or grove in which corpses were exposed
for wild-beasts to eat, in order that the earth might not be defiled. Cf. the
Parsee 'Towers of Silence.'
216:1 In Pāli bho Gotama,--a form of familiar address. Brahmins are always
represented as presuming to say bho to the Buddha.
Next: No. 88. Sārambha-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Silavimamsana Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 86. Sīlavīmaṁsana-Jātaka
No. 86.
SĪLAVĪMAṀSANA-JĀTAKA.
"Naught can compare."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana,
about a brahmin who put to the test his reputation for goodness. This Brother,
who was maintained by ṭhe King of Kosala, had sought the Three Refuges; he kept
the Five Commandments, and was versed in the Three Vedas. "This is a good man,"
thought the King, and shewed him great honour. But that Brother thought to
himself, "The King shews honour to me beyond other brahmins, and has manifested
his great regard by making me his spiritual director. But is his favour due to
my goodness or only to my birth, lineage, family, country and accomplishments? I
must clear this up without delay." Accordingly, one day when he was leaving the
palace, he took unbidden a coin from a treasurer's counter, and went his way.
Such was the treasurer's veneration for the brahmin that he sat perfectly still
and said not a word. Next day the brahmin took two coins; but still the official
made no remonstrance. The third day the brahmin took a whole handful of coins.
"This is the third day," cried the treasurer, "that you have robbed his
Majesty;" and he shouted out three times,--"I have caught the thief who robs the
treasury." In rushed a crowd of people from every side, crying, "Ah, you've long
been posing as a model of goodness." And dealing him two or three blows, they
led him before the King. In great sorrow the King said to him, "What led you,
brahmin, to do, so wicked a thing?" And he gave orders, saying, "Off with him to
punishment." "I are no thief, sire," said the brahmin. "Then why did you take
money from the treasury?" "Because you shewed me such great honour, sire, and
because I made up my mind to find out whether that honour was paid to my birth
and the like or only to my goodness. That was my motive, and now I know for
certain (inasmuch as you order me off to punishment) that it was my goodness and
not my birth and other advantages, that won me your majesty's favour. Goodness I
know to be the chief and supreme good; I know too that to goodness [370] I can
p. 214
never attain in this life, whilst I remain a layman, living in the midst of
sinful pleasures. Wherefore, this very day I would fain go to the Master at
Jetavana and renounce the world for the Brotherhood. Grant me your leave, sire."
The King consenting, the brahmin set out for Jetavana. His friends and relations
in a body tried to turn him from his purpose, but, finding their efforts of no
avail, left him alone. He came to the Master and asked to be admitted to the
Brotherhood. After admission to the lower and higher orders, he won by
application spiritual insight and became an Arahat, whereon he drew near to the
Master, saying, "Sir, my joining the Order has borne the Supreme
Fruit,"--thereby signifying that he had won Arahatship. Hearing of this, the
Brethren, assembling in the Hall of Truth, spoke with one another of the virtues
of the King's chaplain who tested his own reputation for goodness and who,
leaving the King, had now risen to be an Arahat. Entering the Hall, the Master
asked what the Brethren were discussing, and they told him. "Not without a
precedent, Brethren," said he, "is the action of this brahmin in putting to the
test his reputation for goodness and in working out his salvation after
renouncing the world. The like was done by the wise and good of bygone days as
well." And so saying, he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was his
chaplain,--a man given to charity and other good works, whose mind was set on
righteousness, always keeping unbroken the Five Commandments. And the King
honoured him beyond the other brahmins; and everything came to pass as above.
But, as the Bodhisatta was being brought in bonds before the King, he came where
some snake-charmers were exhibiting a snake, which they laid hold of by the tail
and the throat, and tied round their necks. Seeing this, the Bodhisatta begged
the men to desist, for the snake might bite them and cut their lives short.
"Brahmin," replied the snake-charmers, "this is a good and well-behaved cobra;
he's not wicked like you, who for your wickedness and misconduct are being
hauled off in custody."
Thought the Bodhisatta to himself, "Even cobras, if they do not bite or wound,
are called 'good.' How much more must this be the case with those who have come
to be human beings! Verily it is just this goodness which is the most excellent
thing in all the world, nor [371] does aught surpass it." Then he was brought
before the King. "What is this, my friends?" said the King. "Here's a thief who
has been robbing your majesty's treasury." "Away with him to execution." "Sire,"
said the brahmin, "I am no thief." "Then how came you to take the money?" Hereon
the Bodhisatta made answer precisely as above, ending as follows:--"This then is
why I have come to the conclusion that it is goodness which is the highest and
most excellent thing in all the world. But be that as it may, yet, seeing that
the cobra, when it does not bite or wound, must simply be called 'good' and
nothing more, for this reason too it is
p. 215
goodness alone which is the highest and most excellent of all things." Then in
praise of goodness he uttered this stanza:--
Naught can compare with Goodness;
all the world Can not its equal show. The cobra fell,
If men account it 'good,' is saved from death.
After preaching the truth to the King in this stanza, the Bodhisatta, abjuring
all Lusts, and renouncing the world for the hermit's life, repaired to the
Himalayas, where he attained to the five Knowledges and the eight Attainments,
earning for himself the sure hope of re-birth thereafter in the Brahma Realm.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "My disciples were
the King's following in those days, and I myself the King's chaplain."
[Note. Compare Nos. 290, 330, and 362; and see Feer's Études sur le Játaka.]
Next: No. 87. Maṁgala-Jātaka
No. 86.
SĪLAVĪMAṀSANA-JĀTAKA.
"Naught can compare."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana,
about a brahmin who put to the test his reputation for goodness. This Brother,
who was maintained by ṭhe King of Kosala, had sought the Three Refuges; he kept
the Five Commandments, and was versed in the Three Vedas. "This is a good man,"
thought the King, and shewed him great honour. But that Brother thought to
himself, "The King shews honour to me beyond other brahmins, and has manifested
his great regard by making me his spiritual director. But is his favour due to
my goodness or only to my birth, lineage, family, country and accomplishments? I
must clear this up without delay." Accordingly, one day when he was leaving the
palace, he took unbidden a coin from a treasurer's counter, and went his way.
Such was the treasurer's veneration for the brahmin that he sat perfectly still
and said not a word. Next day the brahmin took two coins; but still the official
made no remonstrance. The third day the brahmin took a whole handful of coins.
"This is the third day," cried the treasurer, "that you have robbed his
Majesty;" and he shouted out three times,--"I have caught the thief who robs the
treasury." In rushed a crowd of people from every side, crying, "Ah, you've long
been posing as a model of goodness." And dealing him two or three blows, they
led him before the King. In great sorrow the King said to him, "What led you,
brahmin, to do, so wicked a thing?" And he gave orders, saying, "Off with him to
punishment." "I are no thief, sire," said the brahmin. "Then why did you take
money from the treasury?" "Because you shewed me such great honour, sire, and
because I made up my mind to find out whether that honour was paid to my birth
and the like or only to my goodness. That was my motive, and now I know for
certain (inasmuch as you order me off to punishment) that it was my goodness and
not my birth and other advantages, that won me your majesty's favour. Goodness I
know to be the chief and supreme good; I know too that to goodness [370] I can
p. 214
never attain in this life, whilst I remain a layman, living in the midst of
sinful pleasures. Wherefore, this very day I would fain go to the Master at
Jetavana and renounce the world for the Brotherhood. Grant me your leave, sire."
The King consenting, the brahmin set out for Jetavana. His friends and relations
in a body tried to turn him from his purpose, but, finding their efforts of no
avail, left him alone. He came to the Master and asked to be admitted to the
Brotherhood. After admission to the lower and higher orders, he won by
application spiritual insight and became an Arahat, whereon he drew near to the
Master, saying, "Sir, my joining the Order has borne the Supreme
Fruit,"--thereby signifying that he had won Arahatship. Hearing of this, the
Brethren, assembling in the Hall of Truth, spoke with one another of the virtues
of the King's chaplain who tested his own reputation for goodness and who,
leaving the King, had now risen to be an Arahat. Entering the Hall, the Master
asked what the Brethren were discussing, and they told him. "Not without a
precedent, Brethren," said he, "is the action of this brahmin in putting to the
test his reputation for goodness and in working out his salvation after
renouncing the world. The like was done by the wise and good of bygone days as
well." And so saying, he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was his
chaplain,--a man given to charity and other good works, whose mind was set on
righteousness, always keeping unbroken the Five Commandments. And the King
honoured him beyond the other brahmins; and everything came to pass as above.
But, as the Bodhisatta was being brought in bonds before the King, he came where
some snake-charmers were exhibiting a snake, which they laid hold of by the tail
and the throat, and tied round their necks. Seeing this, the Bodhisatta begged
the men to desist, for the snake might bite them and cut their lives short.
"Brahmin," replied the snake-charmers, "this is a good and well-behaved cobra;
he's not wicked like you, who for your wickedness and misconduct are being
hauled off in custody."
Thought the Bodhisatta to himself, "Even cobras, if they do not bite or wound,
are called 'good.' How much more must this be the case with those who have come
to be human beings! Verily it is just this goodness which is the most excellent
thing in all the world, nor [371] does aught surpass it." Then he was brought
before the King. "What is this, my friends?" said the King. "Here's a thief who
has been robbing your majesty's treasury." "Away with him to execution." "Sire,"
said the brahmin, "I am no thief." "Then how came you to take the money?" Hereon
the Bodhisatta made answer precisely as above, ending as follows:--"This then is
why I have come to the conclusion that it is goodness which is the highest and
most excellent thing in all the world. But be that as it may, yet, seeing that
the cobra, when it does not bite or wound, must simply be called 'good' and
nothing more, for this reason too it is
p. 215
goodness alone which is the highest and most excellent of all things." Then in
praise of goodness he uttered this stanza:--
Naught can compare with Goodness;
all the world Can not its equal show. The cobra fell,
If men account it 'good,' is saved from death.
After preaching the truth to the King in this stanza, the Bodhisatta, abjuring
all Lusts, and renouncing the world for the hermit's life, repaired to the
Himalayas, where he attained to the five Knowledges and the eight Attainments,
earning for himself the sure hope of re-birth thereafter in the Brahma Realm.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "My disciples were
the King's following in those days, and I myself the King's chaplain."
[Note. Compare Nos. 290, 330, and 362; and see Feer's Études sur le Játaka.]
Next: No. 87. Maṁgala-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Kimpakka Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 85. Kimpakka-Jātaka
p. 212
No. 85.
KIMPAKKA-JĀTAKA.
"As they who ate."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, about a
concupiscent Brother. Tradition says there was a scion of a good family who gave
his heart to the Buddha's doctrine and joined the Brotherhood. But one day as he
was going his round for alms in Sāvatthi, he was there stirred to concupiscence
by the sight of a beautifully dressed woman. Being brought by his teachers and
directors before the Master, he admitted in answer to the enquiries of the
Blessed One that the spirit of concupiscence had entered into him. Then said the
Master, "Verily the five lusts of the senses are sweet in the hour of actual
enjoyment, Brother; but this enjoyment of them (in that it entails the miseries
of re-birth in hell and the other evil states) is like the eating of the fruit
of the What-fruit tree. Very fair to view is the What-fruit, very fragrant-and
sweet; but when eaten, it racks the inwards and brings death. In other days,
through ignorance [368] of its evil nature, a multitude of men, seduced by the
beauty, fragrance and sweetness of the fruit, ate thereof so that they died." So
saying, he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once upon a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta came
to life as the leader of a caravan. Once when journeying with five hundred carts
from East to West, he came to the outskirts of a forest. Assembling his men, he
said to them:--"In this forest grow trees that bear poisonous fruit. Let no man
eat any unfamiliar fruit without first asking me." When they had traversed the
forest, they came at the other border on a What-fruit tree with its boughs
bending low with their burthen of fruit. In form, smell and taste, its trunk,
boughs, leaves and fruit resembled a mango. Taking the tree, from its misleading
appearance and so forth, to be a mango, some plucked the fruit and ate; but
others said, "Let us speak to our leader before we eat." And these latter,
plucking the fruit, waited for him to come up. When he came, he ordered them to
fling away the fruit they had plucked, and had an emetic administered to those
who had already eaten. Of these latter, some recovered; but such as had been the
first to eat, died. The Bodhisatta reached his destination in safety, and sold
his wares at a profit, after which he travelled home again. After a life spent
in charity and other good works, he passed away to fare according to his
deserts.
_____________________________
p. 213
It was when he had told this story, that the Master, as Buddha, uttered this
stanza:--
As they who ate the What-fruit died, so Lusts,
When ripe, slay him who knowing not the woe
They breed hereafter, stoops to lustful deeds.
Having thus shewn that the Lusts, which are so sweet in the hour of fruition,
end by slaying their votaries, the Master preached the Four Truths, at the close
[369] whereof the concupiscent Brother was converted and won the Fruit of the
First Path. Of the rest of the Buddha's following some won the First, some the
Second, and some the Third Path, whilst others again became Arahats.
His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "My disciples were
the people of the caravan in those days, and I their leader."
Next: No. 86. Sīlavīmaṁsana-Jātaka
p. 212
No. 85.
KIMPAKKA-JĀTAKA.
"As they who ate."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, about a
concupiscent Brother. Tradition says there was a scion of a good family who gave
his heart to the Buddha's doctrine and joined the Brotherhood. But one day as he
was going his round for alms in Sāvatthi, he was there stirred to concupiscence
by the sight of a beautifully dressed woman. Being brought by his teachers and
directors before the Master, he admitted in answer to the enquiries of the
Blessed One that the spirit of concupiscence had entered into him. Then said the
Master, "Verily the five lusts of the senses are sweet in the hour of actual
enjoyment, Brother; but this enjoyment of them (in that it entails the miseries
of re-birth in hell and the other evil states) is like the eating of the fruit
of the What-fruit tree. Very fair to view is the What-fruit, very fragrant-and
sweet; but when eaten, it racks the inwards and brings death. In other days,
through ignorance [368] of its evil nature, a multitude of men, seduced by the
beauty, fragrance and sweetness of the fruit, ate thereof so that they died." So
saying, he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once upon a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta came
to life as the leader of a caravan. Once when journeying with five hundred carts
from East to West, he came to the outskirts of a forest. Assembling his men, he
said to them:--"In this forest grow trees that bear poisonous fruit. Let no man
eat any unfamiliar fruit without first asking me." When they had traversed the
forest, they came at the other border on a What-fruit tree with its boughs
bending low with their burthen of fruit. In form, smell and taste, its trunk,
boughs, leaves and fruit resembled a mango. Taking the tree, from its misleading
appearance and so forth, to be a mango, some plucked the fruit and ate; but
others said, "Let us speak to our leader before we eat." And these latter,
plucking the fruit, waited for him to come up. When he came, he ordered them to
fling away the fruit they had plucked, and had an emetic administered to those
who had already eaten. Of these latter, some recovered; but such as had been the
first to eat, died. The Bodhisatta reached his destination in safety, and sold
his wares at a profit, after which he travelled home again. After a life spent
in charity and other good works, he passed away to fare according to his
deserts.
_____________________________
p. 213
It was when he had told this story, that the Master, as Buddha, uttered this
stanza:--
As they who ate the What-fruit died, so Lusts,
When ripe, slay him who knowing not the woe
They breed hereafter, stoops to lustful deeds.
Having thus shewn that the Lusts, which are so sweet in the hour of fruition,
end by slaying their votaries, the Master preached the Four Truths, at the close
[369] whereof the concupiscent Brother was converted and won the Fruit of the
First Path. Of the rest of the Buddha's following some won the First, some the
Second, and some the Third Path, whilst others again became Arahats.
His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "My disciples were
the people of the caravan in those days, and I their leader."
Next: No. 86. Sīlavīmaṁsana-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Atthassadvara Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 84. Atthassadvāra-Jātaka
p. 211
No. 84.
ATTHASSADVĀRA-JĀTAKA. [366]
"Seek health."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, about a boy
who was sage in matters relating to spiritual welfare. When he was only seven
years old, the boy, who was the son of a very wealthy Treasurer, manifested
great intelligence and anxiety for his spiritual welfare; and one day came to
his father to ask what were the Paths leading to spiritual welfare. The father
could not answer, but he thought to himself,--"This is a very difficult
question; from highest heaven to nethermost hell there is none that can answer
it, save only the All-knowing Buddha." So he took the child with him to
Jetavana, with a quantity of perfumes and flowers and unguents. Arrived there,
he did reverence to the Master, bowed down before him, and seating himself on
one side, spoke as follows to the Blessed One:--"Sir, this boy of mine, who is
intelligent and anxious for his spiritual welfare, has asked me what are the
Paths leading to spiritual welfare; and as I did not know, I came to you.
Vouchsafe, O Blessed One, to resolve this question." "Lay-brother," said the
Master, "this selfsame question was asked me by this very child in former times,
and I answered it for him. He knew the answer in bygone days, but now he has
forgotten because of change of birth." Then, at the father's request, he told
this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was a
very wealthy Treasurer; and he had a son who, when only seven years old,
manifested great intelligence and anxiety for his spiritual welfare. One day the
child came to his father to ask what were the Paths leading to spiritual
welfare. And his father answered him by repeating this stanza:--
Seek Health, the supreme good; be virtuous;
Hearken to elders; from the scriptures learn;
Conform to Truth; and burst Attachment's bonds.
--For chiefly these six Paths to Welfare lead.
[367] In this wise did the Bodhisatta answer his son's question as to the Paths
that lead to spiritual welfare; and the boy from that time forward followed
those six rules. After a life spent in charity and other good works, the
Bodhisatta passed away to fare thereafter according to his deserts.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "This child was
also the child of those days, and I myself the Lord Treasurer."
Next: No. 85. Kimpakka-Jātaka
p. 211
No. 84.
ATTHASSADVĀRA-JĀTAKA. [366]
"Seek health."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, about a boy
who was sage in matters relating to spiritual welfare. When he was only seven
years old, the boy, who was the son of a very wealthy Treasurer, manifested
great intelligence and anxiety for his spiritual welfare; and one day came to
his father to ask what were the Paths leading to spiritual welfare. The father
could not answer, but he thought to himself,--"This is a very difficult
question; from highest heaven to nethermost hell there is none that can answer
it, save only the All-knowing Buddha." So he took the child with him to
Jetavana, with a quantity of perfumes and flowers and unguents. Arrived there,
he did reverence to the Master, bowed down before him, and seating himself on
one side, spoke as follows to the Blessed One:--"Sir, this boy of mine, who is
intelligent and anxious for his spiritual welfare, has asked me what are the
Paths leading to spiritual welfare; and as I did not know, I came to you.
Vouchsafe, O Blessed One, to resolve this question." "Lay-brother," said the
Master, "this selfsame question was asked me by this very child in former times,
and I answered it for him. He knew the answer in bygone days, but now he has
forgotten because of change of birth." Then, at the father's request, he told
this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was a
very wealthy Treasurer; and he had a son who, when only seven years old,
manifested great intelligence and anxiety for his spiritual welfare. One day the
child came to his father to ask what were the Paths leading to spiritual
welfare. And his father answered him by repeating this stanza:--
Seek Health, the supreme good; be virtuous;
Hearken to elders; from the scriptures learn;
Conform to Truth; and burst Attachment's bonds.
--For chiefly these six Paths to Welfare lead.
[367] In this wise did the Bodhisatta answer his son's question as to the Paths
that lead to spiritual welfare; and the boy from that time forward followed
those six rules. After a life spent in charity and other good works, the
Bodhisatta passed away to fare thereafter according to his deserts.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "This child was
also the child of those days, and I myself the Lord Treasurer."
Next: No. 85. Kimpakka-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Kalakanni Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 83. Kālakaṇṇi-Jātaka
No. 83.
KĀLAKAṆṆI-JĀTAKA. [364]
"A friend is he."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, about a
friend of Anātha-piṇḍika's. Tradition says that the two had made mud-pies
together, and had gone to the same school; but, as years went by, the friend,
whose name was 'Curse,' sank into great distress and could not make a living
anyhow. So he came to the rich man, who was kind to him, and paid him to look
after all his property; and the poor friend was employed under Anātha-piṇḍika
and did all his business for him. After he had gone up to the rich man's It was
a common thing to hear in the house--"Stand up, Curse," or "Sit down, Curse," or
"Have your dinner, Curse."
p. 210
One day the Treasurer's friends and acquaintances called on him and said, "Lord
Treasurer, don't let this sort of thing go on in your house. It's enough to
scare an ogre to hear such ill-omened observations as--'Stand up, Curse,' or
'Sit down, Curse,' or 'Have your dinner, Curse.' The man is not your social
equal; he's a miserable wretch, dogged by misfortune. Why have anything to do
with him?" "Not so," replied Anātha-piṇḍika; "a name only serves to denote a
man, and the wise do not measure a man by his name; nor is it proper to wax
superstitious about mere sounds. Never will I throw over, for his mere name's
sake, the friend with whom I made mud-pies as a child." And he rejected their
advice.
One day the great man departed to visit a village of which he was headman,
leaving the other in charge of the house. Hearing of his departure certain
robbers made up their mind to break into the house; and, arming themselves to
the teeth, they surrounded it in the night-time. But 'Curse' had a suspicion
that burglars might be expected, and was sitting up for them. And when he knew
that they had come, he ran about as if to rouse his people, bidding one sound
the conch, another beat the drum, till he had the whole house full of noise, as
though be were rousing a whole army of servants. Said the robbers, "The house is
not so empty as we were told; the master must be at home." Flinging away their
stones, clubs and other weapons, away they bolted for their lives. Next day
great alarm was caused by the sight of all the discarded weapons lying round the
house; and Curse was lauded to the skies by such praises as this:--"If the house
had not been patrolled by one so wise as this man, the robbers would have simply
walked in at their own pleasure and have plundered the house. The Treasurer owes
this stroke of good luck to his staunch friend." And the moment the merchant
came back from his village they hastened to tell him the whole story. "Ah," said
he, "this is the trusty guardian of my house whom you wanted me to get rid of.
If I had taken your advice and got rid of him; I should be a beggar to-day. It's
not the name but the heart within that makes the man." So saying he raised his
wages. And thinking that here was a good story [365] to tell, off he went to the
Master and gave him a complete account of it all, right through. "This is not
the first time, sir," said the Master, "that a friend named Curse has saved his
friend's wealth from robbers; the like happened in bygone days as well." Then,
at Anātha-piṇḍika's request, he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was a
Treasurer of great renown; and he had a friend whose name was Curse, and so on
as in the foregoing story. When on his return from his zemindary the Bodhisatta
heard what had happened he said to his friends, "If I had taken your advice and
got rid of my trusty friend, I should have been a beggar to-day." And he
repeated this stanza:--
A friend is he that seven steps will go
To help us 1; twelve attest the comrade true.
A fortnight or a month's tried loyalty
Makes kindred, longer time a second self.
--Then how shall I, who all these years have known
My friend, be wise in driving Curse away?
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "Ānanda was the
Curse of those days, and I myself the Treasurer of Benares."
Footnotes
210:1 See Griffith's "Old Indian Poetry," p. 27; and Pānini's rule, v. 2. 22.
Next: No. 84. Atthassadvāra-Jātaka
No. 83.
KĀLAKAṆṆI-JĀTAKA. [364]
"A friend is he."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, about a
friend of Anātha-piṇḍika's. Tradition says that the two had made mud-pies
together, and had gone to the same school; but, as years went by, the friend,
whose name was 'Curse,' sank into great distress and could not make a living
anyhow. So he came to the rich man, who was kind to him, and paid him to look
after all his property; and the poor friend was employed under Anātha-piṇḍika
and did all his business for him. After he had gone up to the rich man's It was
a common thing to hear in the house--"Stand up, Curse," or "Sit down, Curse," or
"Have your dinner, Curse."
p. 210
One day the Treasurer's friends and acquaintances called on him and said, "Lord
Treasurer, don't let this sort of thing go on in your house. It's enough to
scare an ogre to hear such ill-omened observations as--'Stand up, Curse,' or
'Sit down, Curse,' or 'Have your dinner, Curse.' The man is not your social
equal; he's a miserable wretch, dogged by misfortune. Why have anything to do
with him?" "Not so," replied Anātha-piṇḍika; "a name only serves to denote a
man, and the wise do not measure a man by his name; nor is it proper to wax
superstitious about mere sounds. Never will I throw over, for his mere name's
sake, the friend with whom I made mud-pies as a child." And he rejected their
advice.
One day the great man departed to visit a village of which he was headman,
leaving the other in charge of the house. Hearing of his departure certain
robbers made up their mind to break into the house; and, arming themselves to
the teeth, they surrounded it in the night-time. But 'Curse' had a suspicion
that burglars might be expected, and was sitting up for them. And when he knew
that they had come, he ran about as if to rouse his people, bidding one sound
the conch, another beat the drum, till he had the whole house full of noise, as
though be were rousing a whole army of servants. Said the robbers, "The house is
not so empty as we were told; the master must be at home." Flinging away their
stones, clubs and other weapons, away they bolted for their lives. Next day
great alarm was caused by the sight of all the discarded weapons lying round the
house; and Curse was lauded to the skies by such praises as this:--"If the house
had not been patrolled by one so wise as this man, the robbers would have simply
walked in at their own pleasure and have plundered the house. The Treasurer owes
this stroke of good luck to his staunch friend." And the moment the merchant
came back from his village they hastened to tell him the whole story. "Ah," said
he, "this is the trusty guardian of my house whom you wanted me to get rid of.
If I had taken your advice and got rid of him; I should be a beggar to-day. It's
not the name but the heart within that makes the man." So saying he raised his
wages. And thinking that here was a good story [365] to tell, off he went to the
Master and gave him a complete account of it all, right through. "This is not
the first time, sir," said the Master, "that a friend named Curse has saved his
friend's wealth from robbers; the like happened in bygone days as well." Then,
at Anātha-piṇḍika's request, he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was a
Treasurer of great renown; and he had a friend whose name was Curse, and so on
as in the foregoing story. When on his return from his zemindary the Bodhisatta
heard what had happened he said to his friends, "If I had taken your advice and
got rid of my trusty friend, I should have been a beggar to-day." And he
repeated this stanza:--
A friend is he that seven steps will go
To help us 1; twelve attest the comrade true.
A fortnight or a month's tried loyalty
Makes kindred, longer time a second self.
--Then how shall I, who all these years have known
My friend, be wise in driving Curse away?
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "Ānanda was the
Curse of those days, and I myself the Treasurer of Benares."
Footnotes
210:1 See Griffith's "Old Indian Poetry," p. 27; and Pānini's rule, v. 2. 22.
Next: No. 84. Atthassadvāra-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Mittavinda Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 82. Mittavinda-Jātaka
p. 209
No. 82.
MITTAVINDA-JĀTAKA.
"No more to dwell."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, about
a self-willed Brother. The incidents of this Birth, which took place in the days
of the Buddha Kassapa, will be related in the Tenth Book in the
Mahā-Mittavindaka Jātaka 1.
_____________________________
Then the Bodhisatta uttered this Stanza:--
No more to dwell in island palaces
Of crystal, silver, or of sparkling gems,--
With flinty headgear thou’rt invested now;
Nor shall its griding torture ever cease
Till all thy sin be purged and life shall end.
So saying, the Bodhisatta passed to his own abode among the Devas. And
Mittavindaka, having donned that headgear, suffered grievous torment till his
sin had been spent and he passed away to fare according to his deserts.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth, by saying, "This self-willed
Brother was the Mittavindaka of those days, and I myself the King of the Devas."
Footnotes
209:1 No. 439. See No. 41, and Divyāvadāna, p. 603, &c.
Next: No. 83. Kālakaṇṇi-Jātaka
p. 209
No. 82.
MITTAVINDA-JĀTAKA.
"No more to dwell."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, about
a self-willed Brother. The incidents of this Birth, which took place in the days
of the Buddha Kassapa, will be related in the Tenth Book in the
Mahā-Mittavindaka Jātaka 1.
_____________________________
Then the Bodhisatta uttered this Stanza:--
No more to dwell in island palaces
Of crystal, silver, or of sparkling gems,--
With flinty headgear thou’rt invested now;
Nor shall its griding torture ever cease
Till all thy sin be purged and life shall end.
So saying, the Bodhisatta passed to his own abode among the Devas. And
Mittavindaka, having donned that headgear, suffered grievous torment till his
sin had been spent and he passed away to fare according to his deserts.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth, by saying, "This self-willed
Brother was the Mittavindaka of those days, and I myself the King of the Devas."
Footnotes
209:1 No. 439. See No. 41, and Divyāvadāna, p. 603, &c.
Next: No. 83. Kālakaṇṇi-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Surapana Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 81. Surāpāna-Jātaka
No. 81.
SURĀPĀNA-JĀTAKA.
[360] "We drank."--This story was cold by the Master about the Elder Sāgata,
while he was dwelling in the Ghosita-park near Kosambī.
For, after spending the rainy season at Sāvatthi, the Master had come on an
alms-pilgrimage to a market-town named Bhaddavatikā, where cowherds and
goatherds and farmers and wayfarers respectfully besought him not to go down to
the Mango Ferry; "for," said they, "in the Mango Ferry, in the demesne of the
naked ascetics, dwells a poisonous and deadly Naga, known as the Naga of the
Mango Ferry, who might harm the Blessed One." Feigning not to hear them, though
they repeated their warning thrice, the Blessed One held on his way. Whilst the
Blessed One was dwelling near Bhaddavatikā in a certain grove there, the Elder
Sāgata, a servant of the Buddha, who had won such supernatural powers as a
worldling can possess, went to the demesne, piled a couch of leaves at the spot
where the Naga-king dwelt, and sate himself down cross-legged thereon. Being
unable to conceal his evil nature, the Naga raised a great smoke. So did the
Elder. Then the Naga sent forth flames. So too did the Elder. But, whilst the
Nāga's flames did no harm to the Elder, the Elder's flames did do harm to the
Naga, and so in a short time he mastered the Naga-king and established him in
the Refuges and the Commandments, after which he repaired back to the Master.
And the Master, after dwelling as long as it pleased him at Bhaddavatikā, went
on to Kosambī. Now the story of the Nāga's conversion by Sāgata, had got noised
abroad all over the countryside, and the townsfolk of Kosambī went forth to meet
the Blessed One and saluted him, after which they passed to the Elder Sāgata and
saluting him, said, "Tell us, sir, what you lack and we will furnish it." The
Elder himself remained
p. 207
silent; but the followers of the Wicked Six 1 made answer as follows:--"Sirs, to
those who have renounced the world, white spirits are as rare as they are
acceptable. Do you think you could get the Elder some clear white spirit?" "To
be sure we can," said the townsfolk, and invited the Master to take his meal
with them next clay. Then they went back to their own town and arranged that
each in his own house should offer clear white spirit to the Elder, and
accordingly they all laid in a store and invited the Elder in and plied him with
the liquor, house by house. So deep were his potations that, on his way out of
town, the Elder fell prostrate in the gateway and there lay hiccoughing
nonsense. On his way back from his meal in the town, the Master came on the
Elder lying in this state, and bidding the Brethren carry Sāgata home, [361]
passed on his way to the park. The Brethren laid the Elder down with his head at
the Buddha's feet, but he turned round so that he came to lie with his feet
towards the Buddha. Then the Master asked his question, "Brethren, does Sāgata
shew that respect towards me now that he formerly did?" "No, sir." "Tell me,
Brethren, who it was that mastered the Naga-king of the Mango Ferry?" "It was
Sāgata, sir." "Think you that in his present state Sāgata could piaster even a
harmless water-snake?" "That he could not, sir." "Well now, Brethren, is it
proper to drink that which, when drunk, steals away a man's senses?" "It is
improper, sir." Now, after discoursing with the Brethren in dispraise of the
Elder, the Blessed One laid it down as a precept that the drinking of
intoxicants was an offence requiring confession and absolution; after which he
rose up and passed into his perfumed chamber.
Assembling together in the Hall of Truth, the Brethren discussed the sin of
spirit-drinking, saying, "What a great sin is the drinking of spirits, sirs,
seeing that it has blinded to the Buddha's excellence even one so wise and so
gifted as Sāgata." Entering the Hall of Truth at this point, the Master asked
what topic they were discussing; and they told him. "Brethren," said he, "this
is not the first time that they who had renounced the world have lust their
senses through drinking spirits; the very same thing took place in bygone days."
And so saying, he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
into a northern Brahmin-family in Kāsi; and when he grew up, he renounced the
world for the hermit's life. He won the Higher Knowledges and the Attainments,
and dwelt in the enjoyment of the bliss of Insight in the Himalayas, with five
hundred pupils around him. Once, when the rainy season had come, his pupils said
to him, "Master, may we go to the haunts of men and bring back salt and
vinegar?" "For my own part, sirs, I shall remain here; but you may go for your
health's sake, and come back when the rainy season is over."
"Very good," said they, and taking a respectful leave of their master, came to
Benares, where they took up their abode in the royal pleasaunce. On the morrow
they went in quest of alms to a village just outside the city gates, where they
had plenty to eat; and next day they made their way into the city itself. The
kindly citizens gave alms to them, and the king was soon informed that five
hundred hermits from the Himalayas had
p. 208
taken up their abode in the royal pleasaunce, and that they were ascetics of
great austerity, subduing the flesh, and of great virtue. Hearing this good
character of them, the king went to the pleasaunce and graciously made them
welcome [362] to stay there for four months. They promised that they would, and
thenceforth were fed in the royal palace and lodged in the pleasaunce. But one
day a drinking festival was held in the city, and the king gave the five hundred
hermits a large supply of the best spirits, knowing that such things rarely come
in the way of those who renounce the world and its vanities. The ascetics drank
the liquor and went back to the pleasaunce. There, in drunken hilarity, some
danced, some sang, whilst others, wearied of dancing and singing, kicked about
their rice-hampers and other belongings,--after which they lay down to sleep.
When they had slept off their drunkenness and awoke to see the traces of their
revelry, they wept and lamented, saying, "We have done that which we ought not
to have done. We have done this evil because we are away from our master."
Forthwith, they quitted the pleasaunce and returned to the Himalayas. Laying
aside their bowls and other belongings, they saluted their master and took their
seats. "Well, my sons," said he, "were you comfortable amid the haunts of men,
and were you spared weary journeyings in quest of alms? Did you dwell in unity
one with another?"
"Yes, master, we were comfortable; but we drank forbidden drink, so that, losing
our senses and forgetting ourselves, we both danced and sang." And by way of
setting the matter forth, they composed and repeated this stanza:--
We drank, we danced, we sang, we wept; ’twas well
That, when we drank the drink that steals away
The senses, we were not transformed to apes.
"This is what is sure to happen to those who are not living under a master's
care," said the Bodhisatta, rebuking those ascetics; and he exhorted them
saying, "Henceforth, never do such a thing again." Living on with Insight
unbroken, he became destined to rebirth thereafter in the Brahma Realm.
_____________________________
[363] His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth (and henceforth we shall
omit the words 'shewed the connexion '), by saying,--"My disciples were the band
of hermits of those days, and I their teacher."
Footnotes
207:1 See note 1 on page 71.
Next: No. 82. Mittavinda-Jātaka
No. 81.
SURĀPĀNA-JĀTAKA.
[360] "We drank."--This story was cold by the Master about the Elder Sāgata,
while he was dwelling in the Ghosita-park near Kosambī.
For, after spending the rainy season at Sāvatthi, the Master had come on an
alms-pilgrimage to a market-town named Bhaddavatikā, where cowherds and
goatherds and farmers and wayfarers respectfully besought him not to go down to
the Mango Ferry; "for," said they, "in the Mango Ferry, in the demesne of the
naked ascetics, dwells a poisonous and deadly Naga, known as the Naga of the
Mango Ferry, who might harm the Blessed One." Feigning not to hear them, though
they repeated their warning thrice, the Blessed One held on his way. Whilst the
Blessed One was dwelling near Bhaddavatikā in a certain grove there, the Elder
Sāgata, a servant of the Buddha, who had won such supernatural powers as a
worldling can possess, went to the demesne, piled a couch of leaves at the spot
where the Naga-king dwelt, and sate himself down cross-legged thereon. Being
unable to conceal his evil nature, the Naga raised a great smoke. So did the
Elder. Then the Naga sent forth flames. So too did the Elder. But, whilst the
Nāga's flames did no harm to the Elder, the Elder's flames did do harm to the
Naga, and so in a short time he mastered the Naga-king and established him in
the Refuges and the Commandments, after which he repaired back to the Master.
And the Master, after dwelling as long as it pleased him at Bhaddavatikā, went
on to Kosambī. Now the story of the Nāga's conversion by Sāgata, had got noised
abroad all over the countryside, and the townsfolk of Kosambī went forth to meet
the Blessed One and saluted him, after which they passed to the Elder Sāgata and
saluting him, said, "Tell us, sir, what you lack and we will furnish it." The
Elder himself remained
p. 207
silent; but the followers of the Wicked Six 1 made answer as follows:--"Sirs, to
those who have renounced the world, white spirits are as rare as they are
acceptable. Do you think you could get the Elder some clear white spirit?" "To
be sure we can," said the townsfolk, and invited the Master to take his meal
with them next clay. Then they went back to their own town and arranged that
each in his own house should offer clear white spirit to the Elder, and
accordingly they all laid in a store and invited the Elder in and plied him with
the liquor, house by house. So deep were his potations that, on his way out of
town, the Elder fell prostrate in the gateway and there lay hiccoughing
nonsense. On his way back from his meal in the town, the Master came on the
Elder lying in this state, and bidding the Brethren carry Sāgata home, [361]
passed on his way to the park. The Brethren laid the Elder down with his head at
the Buddha's feet, but he turned round so that he came to lie with his feet
towards the Buddha. Then the Master asked his question, "Brethren, does Sāgata
shew that respect towards me now that he formerly did?" "No, sir." "Tell me,
Brethren, who it was that mastered the Naga-king of the Mango Ferry?" "It was
Sāgata, sir." "Think you that in his present state Sāgata could piaster even a
harmless water-snake?" "That he could not, sir." "Well now, Brethren, is it
proper to drink that which, when drunk, steals away a man's senses?" "It is
improper, sir." Now, after discoursing with the Brethren in dispraise of the
Elder, the Blessed One laid it down as a precept that the drinking of
intoxicants was an offence requiring confession and absolution; after which he
rose up and passed into his perfumed chamber.
Assembling together in the Hall of Truth, the Brethren discussed the sin of
spirit-drinking, saying, "What a great sin is the drinking of spirits, sirs,
seeing that it has blinded to the Buddha's excellence even one so wise and so
gifted as Sāgata." Entering the Hall of Truth at this point, the Master asked
what topic they were discussing; and they told him. "Brethren," said he, "this
is not the first time that they who had renounced the world have lust their
senses through drinking spirits; the very same thing took place in bygone days."
And so saying, he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
into a northern Brahmin-family in Kāsi; and when he grew up, he renounced the
world for the hermit's life. He won the Higher Knowledges and the Attainments,
and dwelt in the enjoyment of the bliss of Insight in the Himalayas, with five
hundred pupils around him. Once, when the rainy season had come, his pupils said
to him, "Master, may we go to the haunts of men and bring back salt and
vinegar?" "For my own part, sirs, I shall remain here; but you may go for your
health's sake, and come back when the rainy season is over."
"Very good," said they, and taking a respectful leave of their master, came to
Benares, where they took up their abode in the royal pleasaunce. On the morrow
they went in quest of alms to a village just outside the city gates, where they
had plenty to eat; and next day they made their way into the city itself. The
kindly citizens gave alms to them, and the king was soon informed that five
hundred hermits from the Himalayas had
p. 208
taken up their abode in the royal pleasaunce, and that they were ascetics of
great austerity, subduing the flesh, and of great virtue. Hearing this good
character of them, the king went to the pleasaunce and graciously made them
welcome [362] to stay there for four months. They promised that they would, and
thenceforth were fed in the royal palace and lodged in the pleasaunce. But one
day a drinking festival was held in the city, and the king gave the five hundred
hermits a large supply of the best spirits, knowing that such things rarely come
in the way of those who renounce the world and its vanities. The ascetics drank
the liquor and went back to the pleasaunce. There, in drunken hilarity, some
danced, some sang, whilst others, wearied of dancing and singing, kicked about
their rice-hampers and other belongings,--after which they lay down to sleep.
When they had slept off their drunkenness and awoke to see the traces of their
revelry, they wept and lamented, saying, "We have done that which we ought not
to have done. We have done this evil because we are away from our master."
Forthwith, they quitted the pleasaunce and returned to the Himalayas. Laying
aside their bowls and other belongings, they saluted their master and took their
seats. "Well, my sons," said he, "were you comfortable amid the haunts of men,
and were you spared weary journeyings in quest of alms? Did you dwell in unity
one with another?"
"Yes, master, we were comfortable; but we drank forbidden drink, so that, losing
our senses and forgetting ourselves, we both danced and sang." And by way of
setting the matter forth, they composed and repeated this stanza:--
We drank, we danced, we sang, we wept; ’twas well
That, when we drank the drink that steals away
The senses, we were not transformed to apes.
"This is what is sure to happen to those who are not living under a master's
care," said the Bodhisatta, rebuking those ascetics; and he exhorted them
saying, "Henceforth, never do such a thing again." Living on with Insight
unbroken, he became destined to rebirth thereafter in the Brahma Realm.
_____________________________
[363] His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth (and henceforth we shall
omit the words 'shewed the connexion '), by saying,--"My disciples were the band
of hermits of those days, and I their teacher."
Footnotes
207:1 See note 1 on page 71.
Next: No. 82. Mittavinda-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Bhimasena Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 80. Bhīmasena-Jātaka
No. 80.
BHĪMASENA-JĀTAKA.
"You vaunted your prowess."--This story was told by the Master while at
Jetavana, about a certain braggart among the Brethren. Tradition says that he
used to gather round him Brethren of all ages, and go about deluding everyone
with lying boasts about his noble descent. "Ah, Brethren," he would say,
"there's no family so noble as mine, no lineage so peerless. I am a scion of the
highest of princely lines; no man is my equal in birth or ancestral estate;
there is absolutely no end to the gold and silver and other treasures we
possess. Our very slaves and menials are fed on rice and meat-stews, and are
clad in the best Benares cloth, with the choicest Benares perfumes to perfume
themselves withal;--whilst I, because I have joined the Brotherhood, [3561 have
to content myself with this vile fare and this vile garb."
But another Brother, after enquiring into his family estate, exposed to the
Brethren the emptiness of this pretension. So the Brethren met in the Hall of
Truth, and talk began as to how that Brother, in spite of his vows to leave
worldly things and cleave only to the saving Truth, was going about deluding the
Brethren with his lying boasts. Whilst the fellow's sinfulness was being
discussed, the Master entered and enquired what their topic was. And they told
him. "This is not the first time, Brethren," said the Master, "that he has gone
about boasting; in bygone days too he went about boasting and deluding people."
And so saying, he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
a brahmin in a market-town in the North country, and when he was grown up he
studied under a teacher of world-wide fame at Takkasilā. There he learnt the
Three Vedas and the Eighteen Branches of knowledge, and completed his education.
And he became known as the sage Little Bowman. Leaving Takkasilā, he came to the
Andhra country in search of practical experience. Now, it happened that in this
Birth the Bodhisatta was somewhat of a crooked little dwarf, and he thought to
himself, "If I make my appearance before any king, he's sure to ask what a dwarf
like me is good for; why should I not use a tall broad fellow as my
stalking-horse and earn my living in the shadow of his more imposing
p. 204
personality'?" So he betook himself to the weavers' quarter, and there espying a
huge weaver named Bhīmasena, saluted him, asking the man's name. "Bhīmasena 1 is
my name," said the weaver. "And what makes a fine big man like you work at so
sorry a trade?" "Because I can't get a living any other way." "Weave no more,
friend. The whole continent can shew no such archer as I am; but kings would
scorn me because I am a dwarf. And so you, friend, must be the man to vaunt your
prowess with the bow, and the king will take you into his pay [357] and make you
ply your calling regularly. Meantime I shall be behind you to perform the duties
that are laid upon you, and so shall earn my living in your shadow. In this
manner we shall both of us thrive and prosper. Only do as I tell you." "Done
with you," said the other.
Accordingly, the Bodhisatta took the weaver with him to Benares, acting as a
little' page of the bow, and putting the other in the front; and when they were
at the gates of the palace, he made him send word of his coming to the king.
Being summoned into the royal presence, the pair entered together and bowing
stood before the king. "What brings you here?" said the king. "I am a mighty
archer," said Bhīmasena; "there is no archer like me in the whole continent."
"What pay would you want to enter my service?" "A thousand pieces a fortnight,
sire." "What is this man of yours?" "He's my little page, sire." "Very well,
enter my service."
So Bhīmasena entered the king's service; but it was the Bodhisatta who did all
his work for him. Now in those days there was a tiger in a forest in Kāsi which
blocked a frequented high-road and had devoured many victims. When this was
reported to the king, he sent for Bhīmasena and asked whether he could catch the
tiger.
"How could I call myself an archer, sire, if I couldn't catch a tiger?" The king
gave him largesse and sent him on the errand. And home to the Bodhisatta came
Bhīmasena with the news. "All right," said the Bodhisatta; "away you go, my
friend." "But are you not coming too?" "No, I won't go; but I'll tell you a
little plan." "Please do, my friend." "Well don't you be rash and approach the
tiger's lair alone. What you will do is to muster a strong band of countryfolk
to march to the spot with a thousand or two thousand bows; when you know that
the tiger is aroused, you bolt into the thicket and lie down flat on your face.
The countryfolk will beat the tiger to death; and as soon as he is quite dead,
you bite off a creeper with your teeth, and draw near to the dead tiger,
trailing the creeper in your hand. At the sight of the dead body of the brute,
you will burst out with--'Who has killed the tiger? I meant to lead it [358] by
a creeper, like an ox, to the king, and with this intent had
p. 205
just stepped into the thicket to get a creeper. I must know who killed the tiger
before I could get back with my creeper.' Then the countryfolk will be very
frightened and bribe you heavily not to report them to the king; you will be
credited with slaying the tiger; and the king too will give you lots of money."
"Very good," said Bhīmasena; and off he went and slew the tiger just as the
Bodhisatta had told him. Having thus made the road safe for travellers, back he
came with a large following to Benares, and said to the king, "I have killed the
tiger, sire; the forest is safe for travellers now." Well-pleased, the king
loaded him with gifts.
Another day, tidings came that a certain road was infested with a buffalo, and
the king sent Bhīmasena to kill it. Following the Bodhisatta's directions, he
killed the buffalo in the same way as the tiger, and returned to the king, who
once more gave him lots of money. He was a great lord now. Intoxicated by his
new honours, he treated the Bodhisatta with contempt, and scorned to follow his
advice, saying, "I can get on without you. Do you think there's no man but
yourself?" This and many other harsh things did he say to the Bodhisatta.
Now, a few days later, a hostile king marched upon Benares and beleaguered it,
sending a message to the king summoning him either to surrender his kingdom or
to do battle. And the king of Benares ordered Bhīmasena out to fight him. So
Bhīmasena was armed cap-à-pie in soldierly fashion and mounted on a war-elephant
sheathed in complete armour. And the Bodhisatta, who was seriously alarmed that,
Bhīmasena might get killed, armed himself cap-à-pie also and seated himself
modestly behind Bhīmasena. Surrounded by a host, the elephant passed out of the
gates of the city and arrived in the forefront of the battle. At the first notes
of the martial drum Bhīmasena fell a-quaking with fear. "If you fall off now,
you'll get killed," said the Bodhisatta, and accordingly fastened a cord round
him, which he held tight, to prevent him from falling off the elephant. But the
sight of the field of battle proved too much for Bhīmasena, and the fear of
death was so strong on him that he fouled the elephant's back. "Ah," said the
Bodhisatta, "the present does not tally with the past. Then you affected the
warrior; now your prowess is confined to befouling the elephant you ride on."
And so saying, he uttered this stanza:--
[359] You vaunted your prowess, and loud was your boast;
You swore you would vanquish the foe!
But is it consistent, when faced with their host,
To vent your emotion, sir, so?
When the Bodhisatta had ended these taunts, he said, "But don't you be afraid,
my friend. Am not I here to protect you?" Then he made Bhīmasena get off the
elephant and bade him wash himself and go home. "And now to win renown this
day," said the Bodhisatta, raising his
p. 206
battle-cry as he dashed into the fight. Breaking through the king's camp, he
dragged the king out and took him alive to Benares. In great joy at his prowess,
his royal master loaded him with honours, and from that day forward all India
was loud with the fame of the Sage Little Bowman. To Bhīmasena he gave largesse,
and sent him back to his own home; whilst he himself excelled in charity and all
good works, and at his death passed away to fare according to his deserts.
_____________________________
"Thus, Brethren," said the Master, "this is not the first time that this Brother
has been a braggart; he was just the same in bygone days too." His lesson ended,
the Master shewed the connexion and identified the Birth by saying, "This
braggart Brother was the Bhīmasena of those days, and I myself the Sage Little
Bowman."
Footnotes
204:1 The name means "one who has or leads a terrible army;" it is the name of
the second Pāṇḍava.
Next: No. 81. Surāpāna-Jātaka
No. 80.
BHĪMASENA-JĀTAKA.
"You vaunted your prowess."--This story was told by the Master while at
Jetavana, about a certain braggart among the Brethren. Tradition says that he
used to gather round him Brethren of all ages, and go about deluding everyone
with lying boasts about his noble descent. "Ah, Brethren," he would say,
"there's no family so noble as mine, no lineage so peerless. I am a scion of the
highest of princely lines; no man is my equal in birth or ancestral estate;
there is absolutely no end to the gold and silver and other treasures we
possess. Our very slaves and menials are fed on rice and meat-stews, and are
clad in the best Benares cloth, with the choicest Benares perfumes to perfume
themselves withal;--whilst I, because I have joined the Brotherhood, [3561 have
to content myself with this vile fare and this vile garb."
But another Brother, after enquiring into his family estate, exposed to the
Brethren the emptiness of this pretension. So the Brethren met in the Hall of
Truth, and talk began as to how that Brother, in spite of his vows to leave
worldly things and cleave only to the saving Truth, was going about deluding the
Brethren with his lying boasts. Whilst the fellow's sinfulness was being
discussed, the Master entered and enquired what their topic was. And they told
him. "This is not the first time, Brethren," said the Master, "that he has gone
about boasting; in bygone days too he went about boasting and deluding people."
And so saying, he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
a brahmin in a market-town in the North country, and when he was grown up he
studied under a teacher of world-wide fame at Takkasilā. There he learnt the
Three Vedas and the Eighteen Branches of knowledge, and completed his education.
And he became known as the sage Little Bowman. Leaving Takkasilā, he came to the
Andhra country in search of practical experience. Now, it happened that in this
Birth the Bodhisatta was somewhat of a crooked little dwarf, and he thought to
himself, "If I make my appearance before any king, he's sure to ask what a dwarf
like me is good for; why should I not use a tall broad fellow as my
stalking-horse and earn my living in the shadow of his more imposing
p. 204
personality'?" So he betook himself to the weavers' quarter, and there espying a
huge weaver named Bhīmasena, saluted him, asking the man's name. "Bhīmasena 1 is
my name," said the weaver. "And what makes a fine big man like you work at so
sorry a trade?" "Because I can't get a living any other way." "Weave no more,
friend. The whole continent can shew no such archer as I am; but kings would
scorn me because I am a dwarf. And so you, friend, must be the man to vaunt your
prowess with the bow, and the king will take you into his pay [357] and make you
ply your calling regularly. Meantime I shall be behind you to perform the duties
that are laid upon you, and so shall earn my living in your shadow. In this
manner we shall both of us thrive and prosper. Only do as I tell you." "Done
with you," said the other.
Accordingly, the Bodhisatta took the weaver with him to Benares, acting as a
little' page of the bow, and putting the other in the front; and when they were
at the gates of the palace, he made him send word of his coming to the king.
Being summoned into the royal presence, the pair entered together and bowing
stood before the king. "What brings you here?" said the king. "I am a mighty
archer," said Bhīmasena; "there is no archer like me in the whole continent."
"What pay would you want to enter my service?" "A thousand pieces a fortnight,
sire." "What is this man of yours?" "He's my little page, sire." "Very well,
enter my service."
So Bhīmasena entered the king's service; but it was the Bodhisatta who did all
his work for him. Now in those days there was a tiger in a forest in Kāsi which
blocked a frequented high-road and had devoured many victims. When this was
reported to the king, he sent for Bhīmasena and asked whether he could catch the
tiger.
"How could I call myself an archer, sire, if I couldn't catch a tiger?" The king
gave him largesse and sent him on the errand. And home to the Bodhisatta came
Bhīmasena with the news. "All right," said the Bodhisatta; "away you go, my
friend." "But are you not coming too?" "No, I won't go; but I'll tell you a
little plan." "Please do, my friend." "Well don't you be rash and approach the
tiger's lair alone. What you will do is to muster a strong band of countryfolk
to march to the spot with a thousand or two thousand bows; when you know that
the tiger is aroused, you bolt into the thicket and lie down flat on your face.
The countryfolk will beat the tiger to death; and as soon as he is quite dead,
you bite off a creeper with your teeth, and draw near to the dead tiger,
trailing the creeper in your hand. At the sight of the dead body of the brute,
you will burst out with--'Who has killed the tiger? I meant to lead it [358] by
a creeper, like an ox, to the king, and with this intent had
p. 205
just stepped into the thicket to get a creeper. I must know who killed the tiger
before I could get back with my creeper.' Then the countryfolk will be very
frightened and bribe you heavily not to report them to the king; you will be
credited with slaying the tiger; and the king too will give you lots of money."
"Very good," said Bhīmasena; and off he went and slew the tiger just as the
Bodhisatta had told him. Having thus made the road safe for travellers, back he
came with a large following to Benares, and said to the king, "I have killed the
tiger, sire; the forest is safe for travellers now." Well-pleased, the king
loaded him with gifts.
Another day, tidings came that a certain road was infested with a buffalo, and
the king sent Bhīmasena to kill it. Following the Bodhisatta's directions, he
killed the buffalo in the same way as the tiger, and returned to the king, who
once more gave him lots of money. He was a great lord now. Intoxicated by his
new honours, he treated the Bodhisatta with contempt, and scorned to follow his
advice, saying, "I can get on without you. Do you think there's no man but
yourself?" This and many other harsh things did he say to the Bodhisatta.
Now, a few days later, a hostile king marched upon Benares and beleaguered it,
sending a message to the king summoning him either to surrender his kingdom or
to do battle. And the king of Benares ordered Bhīmasena out to fight him. So
Bhīmasena was armed cap-à-pie in soldierly fashion and mounted on a war-elephant
sheathed in complete armour. And the Bodhisatta, who was seriously alarmed that,
Bhīmasena might get killed, armed himself cap-à-pie also and seated himself
modestly behind Bhīmasena. Surrounded by a host, the elephant passed out of the
gates of the city and arrived in the forefront of the battle. At the first notes
of the martial drum Bhīmasena fell a-quaking with fear. "If you fall off now,
you'll get killed," said the Bodhisatta, and accordingly fastened a cord round
him, which he held tight, to prevent him from falling off the elephant. But the
sight of the field of battle proved too much for Bhīmasena, and the fear of
death was so strong on him that he fouled the elephant's back. "Ah," said the
Bodhisatta, "the present does not tally with the past. Then you affected the
warrior; now your prowess is confined to befouling the elephant you ride on."
And so saying, he uttered this stanza:--
[359] You vaunted your prowess, and loud was your boast;
You swore you would vanquish the foe!
But is it consistent, when faced with their host,
To vent your emotion, sir, so?
When the Bodhisatta had ended these taunts, he said, "But don't you be afraid,
my friend. Am not I here to protect you?" Then he made Bhīmasena get off the
elephant and bade him wash himself and go home. "And now to win renown this
day," said the Bodhisatta, raising his
p. 206
battle-cry as he dashed into the fight. Breaking through the king's camp, he
dragged the king out and took him alive to Benares. In great joy at his prowess,
his royal master loaded him with honours, and from that day forward all India
was loud with the fame of the Sage Little Bowman. To Bhīmasena he gave largesse,
and sent him back to his own home; whilst he himself excelled in charity and all
good works, and at his death passed away to fare according to his deserts.
_____________________________
"Thus, Brethren," said the Master, "this is not the first time that this Brother
has been a braggart; he was just the same in bygone days too." His lesson ended,
the Master shewed the connexion and identified the Birth by saying, "This
braggart Brother was the Bhīmasena of those days, and I myself the Sage Little
Bowman."
Footnotes
204:1 The name means "one who has or leads a terrible army;" it is the name of
the second Pāṇḍava.
Next: No. 81. Surāpāna-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Kharassara Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 79. Kharassara-Jātaka
p. 202
No. 79.
KHARASSARA-JĀTAKA.
"He gave the robbers time."--This story was told by the Master while at
Jetavana, about a certain Minister. He, ’tis said, ingratiated himself with the
king, and, after collecting the royal revenue in a border-village, privily
arranged with a band of robbers that he would march the men off into the jungle,
leaving the village for the rascals to plunder,--on condition that they gave him
half the booty. Accordingly, at daybreak when the place was left unprotected,
down came the robbers, who slew and ate the cattle, looted the village, and were
off with their booty before he came back at evening with his followers. But it
was a very short time before his knavery leaked out and came to the ears of the
king. And the king sent for him, and, as his guilt was manifest, he was degraded
and another headman put in his place. Then the king went to the Master at
Jetavana and told him what had happened. "Sire," said the Blessed One, "the man
has only shewn the same disposition now which he shewed in bygone days." Then at
the king's request he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, he appointed a certain
Minister to be headman of a border-village; and every-thing came to pass as in
the above case. Now in those days the Bodhisatta was making the round of the
border-villages in the way of trade, [355] and had taken up his abode in that
very village. And when the headman was marching his men back at evening with
drums a-beating, he exclaimed, "This scoundrel, who privily egged on the robbers
to loot the village, has waited till they had made off to the jungle again, and
now back he comes with drums a-beating,--feigning a happy ignorance of anything
wrong having happened." And, so saying, he uttered this stanza:--
He gave the robbers time to drive and slay
The cattle, burn the houses, capture folk;
And then with drums a-beating, home he marched,
--A son no more, for such a son is dead 1.
In such wise did the Bodhisatta condemn the headman. Not long after, the villany
was detected, and the rascal was punished by the king as his wickedness
deserved.
_____________________________
p. 203
"This is not the first time, sire," said the king, "that he has been of this
disposition; he was just the same in bygone days also." His lesson ended, the
Master shewed the connexion and identified the Birth by saying, "The headman of
to-day was also the headman of those days, and I myself the wise and good man
who recited the stanza."
Footnotes
202:1 The scholiast's explanation is, that a son who is so lost to all decency
and shame, ceases ipso facto to be a son, and that his mother is sonless even
while her son is still alive.
Next: No. 80. Bhīmasena-Jātaka
p. 202
No. 79.
KHARASSARA-JĀTAKA.
"He gave the robbers time."--This story was told by the Master while at
Jetavana, about a certain Minister. He, ’tis said, ingratiated himself with the
king, and, after collecting the royal revenue in a border-village, privily
arranged with a band of robbers that he would march the men off into the jungle,
leaving the village for the rascals to plunder,--on condition that they gave him
half the booty. Accordingly, at daybreak when the place was left unprotected,
down came the robbers, who slew and ate the cattle, looted the village, and were
off with their booty before he came back at evening with his followers. But it
was a very short time before his knavery leaked out and came to the ears of the
king. And the king sent for him, and, as his guilt was manifest, he was degraded
and another headman put in his place. Then the king went to the Master at
Jetavana and told him what had happened. "Sire," said the Blessed One, "the man
has only shewn the same disposition now which he shewed in bygone days." Then at
the king's request he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, he appointed a certain
Minister to be headman of a border-village; and every-thing came to pass as in
the above case. Now in those days the Bodhisatta was making the round of the
border-villages in the way of trade, [355] and had taken up his abode in that
very village. And when the headman was marching his men back at evening with
drums a-beating, he exclaimed, "This scoundrel, who privily egged on the robbers
to loot the village, has waited till they had made off to the jungle again, and
now back he comes with drums a-beating,--feigning a happy ignorance of anything
wrong having happened." And, so saying, he uttered this stanza:--
He gave the robbers time to drive and slay
The cattle, burn the houses, capture folk;
And then with drums a-beating, home he marched,
--A son no more, for such a son is dead 1.
In such wise did the Bodhisatta condemn the headman. Not long after, the villany
was detected, and the rascal was punished by the king as his wickedness
deserved.
_____________________________
p. 203
"This is not the first time, sire," said the king, "that he has been of this
disposition; he was just the same in bygone days also." His lesson ended, the
Master shewed the connexion and identified the Birth by saying, "The headman of
to-day was also the headman of those days, and I myself the wise and good man
who recited the stanza."
Footnotes
202:1 The scholiast's explanation is, that a son who is so lost to all decency
and shame, ceases ipso facto to be a son, and that his mother is sonless even
while her son is still alive.
Next: No. 80. Bhīmasena-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Illisa Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 78. Illīsa-Jātaka
p. 195
No. 78.
ILLĪSA-JĀTAKA.
"Both squint."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, about a
miserly Lord High Treasurer. Hard by the city of Rājagaha, as we are told, was a
town named Jagghery, and here dwelt a certain Lord High Treasurer, known as the
Millionaire Miser, who was worth eighty crores! Not so much as the tiniest drop
of oil that a blade of grass will take up, did he either give away or consume
for his own enjoyment. So he made no use of all his wealth either for his family
or for sages and brahmins: it remained unenjoyed,--like a pool haunted by
demons. Now, it fell out on a day that the Master arose at dawn moved with a
great compassion, and as he reviewed those ripe for conversion throughout the
universe, he became aware that this Treasurer with his wife some four hundred
miles away were destined to tread the Paths of Salvation.
Now the day before, the Lord High Treasurer had gone his way to the palace to
wait upon the king, and was on his homeward way when he saw a country-bumpkin,
who was quite empty within, eating a cake stuffed with gruel. The sight awoke a
craving within him! But, arrived at his own house, [346] be thought to
himself,--"If I say I should like a stuffed cake, a whole host of people will
want to share my meal; and that means getting through ever so much of my rice
and ghee and sugar. I mustn't say a word to a soul." So he walked about,
wrestling with his craving. As hour after hour passed, he grew yellower and
yellower, and the veins stood out like cords on his emaciated frame. Unable at
last to bear it any longer, he went to his own room and lay down hugging his
bed. But still not a word would he say to a soul for fear of wasting his
substance! Well, his wife came to him, and, stroking his back, said: "What is
the matter, my husband?"
"Nothing," said he. "Perhaps the king has been cross to you?" "No, he has not."
"Have your children or servants done anything to annoy you?" "Nothing of that
kind, either." "Well, then, have you a craving for anything?" But still not a
word would he say,--all because of his preposterous fear that he might waste his
substance; but lay there speechless on his bed. "Speak, husband," said the wife;
"tell me what you have a craving for." "Yes," said he with a gulp, "I have got a
craving for one thing." "And what is that, my husband?" "I should like a stuffed
cake to eat!" "Now why not have said so at once? You're rich enough! I'll cook
cakes enough to feast the whole town of Jagghery." "Why trouble about them? They
must work to earn their own meal." "Well then, I'll cook only enough for our
street." "How rich you are!" "Then, I'll cook just enough for our own
household." "How extravagant you are!" "Very good, I'll cook only enough for our
children." "Why bother about them?" "Very good then, I'll only provide for our
two selves." "Why should you be in it?" "Then, I'll cook just enough for you
alone," said the wife.
"Softly," said the Lord High Treasurer; "there are a lot of people on the watch
for signs of cooking in this place. Pick out broken rice,--being careful to
leave the whole grain,--and take a brazier and cooking-pots and just a very
little milk and ghee and honey and molasses; then up with you to the seventh
story of the house and do the cooking up there. There I will sit alone and
undisturbed to eat."
Obedient to his wishes, the wife had all the necessary things carried up,
climbed all the way up herself, sent the servants away, and despatched word to
the Treasurer to come. Up he climbed, shutting and bolting door after door as he
ascended, till at last he came to the seventh floor, the door of which he also
shut fast. Then he sat down. His wife lit the fire in the brazier, put her pot
on, and set about cooking the cakes.
p. 196
Now in the early morning, the Master had said to the Elder Great
Moggallāna,--"Moggallāna, this Miser Millionaire [347] in the town of Jagghery
near Rājagaha, wanting to eat cakes himself, is so afraid of letting others
know, that he is having them cooked for him right up on the seventh story. Go
thither; convert the man to self-denial, and by transcendental power transport
husband and wife, cakes, milk, ghee and all, here to Jetavana. This day I and
the five hundred Brethren will stay at home, and I will make the cakes furnish
them with a meal."
Obedient to the Master's bidding, the Elder by supernatural power passed to the
town of Jagghery, and rested in mid-air before the chamber-window, duly clad in
his under and outer cloths, bright as a jewelled image. The unexpected sight of
the Elder made the Lord High Treasurer quake with fear. Thought he to himself,
"It was to escape such visitors that I climbed up here: and now there's one of
them at the window!" And, failing to realise the comprehension of that which he
must needs comprehend, he sputtered with rage, like sugar and salt thrown on the
fire, as he burst out with--"What will you get, sage, by your simply standing in
mid-air? Why, you may pace up and down till you've made a path in the pathless
air,--and yet you'll still get nothing."
The Elder began to pace to and fro in his place in the air! "What will you get
by pacing to and fro?" said the Treasurer! "You may sit cross-legged in
meditation in the air,--but still you'll get nothing." The Elder sat down with
legs crossed! Then said the Treasurer, "What will you get by sitting there? You
may come and stand on the window-sill; but even that won't get you any-thing!"
The Elder took his stand on the window-sill. "What will you get by standing on
the window-sill? Why, you may belch smoke, and yet you'll still get nothing!"
said the Treasurer. Then the Elder belched forth smoke till the whole palace was
filled with it. The Treasurer's eyes began to smart as though pricked with
needles; and, for fear at last that his house might be set on fire, he checked
himself from adding--"You won't get anything even if you burst into flames."
Thought he to himself, "This Elder is most persistent! He simply won't go away
empty-handed! I must have just one cake given him." So he said to his wife, "My
dear, cook one little cake and give it to the sage to get rid of him."
So she mixed quite a little dough in a crock. But the dough swelled and swelled
till it filled the whole crock, and grew to be a great big cake! "What a lot you
must have used!" exclaimed the Treasurer at the sight. And he himself with the
tip of a spoon took a very little of the dough, and put that in the oven to
bake. But that tiny piece of dough grew larger than the first lump; and, one
after another, every piece of dough he took became ever so big! Then he lost
heart and said to his wife, "You give him a cake, dear." But, as soon as she
took one cake from the basket, at once all the other cakes stuck fast to it. So
she cried out to her husband that all the cakes had stuck together, and that she
could not part them.
"Oh, I'll soon part them," said he,--but found he could not!
Then husband and wife both took hold of the mass of cakes at the corner and
tried to get them apart. But tug as they might, they could make no more
impression together than they did singly, on the mass. Now as the Treasurer was
pulling away at the cakes, he burst into a perspiration, and his craving left
him. Then said he to his wife, "I don't want the cakes; [348] give them, basket
and all, to this ascetic." And she approached the Elder with the basket in her
hand. Then the Elder preached the truth to the pair, and proclaimed the
excellence of the Three Gems. And, teaching that giving was true sacrifice, he
made the fruits of charity and other good works to shine forth even as the
full-moon in the heavens. Won by the Elder's words, the Treasurer said, "Sir,
come hither and sit on this couch to eat your cakes."
"Lord High Treasurer," said the Elder, "the All-Wise Buddha with five hundred
Brethren sits in the monastery waiting a meal of cakes. If such be your good
pleasure, I would ask you to bring your wife and the cakes with you, and let us
be going to the Master." "But where, sir, is the Master at the present
p. 197
time?" "Five and forty leagues away, in the monastery at Jetavana." "How are we
to get all that way, sir, without losing a long time on the road?" "If it be
your pleasure, Lord High Treasurer, I will transport you thither by my
transcendental powers. The head of the staircase in your house shall remain
where it is, but the bottom shall be at the main-gate of Jetavana. In this wise
will I transport you to the Master in the time which it takes to go downstairs."
"So be it, sir," said the Treasurer.
Then the Elder, keeping the top of the staircase where it was, commanded,
saying,--"Let the foot of the staircase be at the main-gate of Jetavana." And so
it came to pass! In this way did the Elder transport the Treasurer and his wife
to Jetavana quicker than they could get down the stairs.
Then husband and wife came before the Master and said meal-time had come. And
the Master, passing into the Refectory, sat down on the Buddha-seat prepared for
him, with the Brotherhood gathered round. Then the Lord High Treasurer poured
the Water of Donation over the hands of the Brotherhood with the Buddha at its
head, whilst his wife placed a cake in the alms-bowl of the Blessed One. Of this
he took what sufficed to support life, as also did the five hundred Brethren.
Next the Treasurer went round offering milk mixed with ghee and hooey and
jagghery; and the Master and the Brotherhood brought their meal to a close.
Lastly the Treasurer and his wife ate their fill, but still there seemed no end
to the cakes. Even when all the Brethren and the scrap-eaters through-out the
monastery had all had a share, still there was no sign of the end approaching.
So they told the Master, saying, "Sir, the supply of cakes grows no smaller."
"Then throw them down by the great gate of the monastery."
So they threw them away in a cave not far from the gateway; and to this day a
spot called 'The Crock-Cake,' is shown at the extremity of that cave.
The Lord High Treasurer and his wife approached and stood before the Blessed
One, who returned thanks; and at the close of his words of thanks, the pair
attained Fruition of the First Path of Salvation. Then, taking their leave of
the Master, the two mounted the stairs at the great gate and found themselves in
their own home once more. [349] Afterwards, the Lord High Treasurer lavished
eighty crores of money solely on the Faith the Buddha taught.
Next day the Perfect Buddha, returning to Jetavana after a round for alms in
Sāvatthi, delivered a Buddha-discourse to the Brethren before retiring to the
seclusion of the Perfumed Chamber. At evening, the Brethren gathered together in
the Hall of Truth, and exclaimed, "How great is the power of the Elder
Moggallāna! In a moment he converted a miser to charity, brought him with the
cakes to Jetavana, set him before the piaster, and stablished him in salvation.
How great is the power of the Elder!" As they sat talking thus of the goodness
of the Elder, the Master entered, and, on enquiry, was told of the subject of
their talk. "Brethren," said he, "a Brother who is the converter of a household,
should approach that household without causing it annoyance or vexation,--even
as the bee when it sucks the nectar from the flower; in such wise should he draw
nigh to declare the excellence of the Buddha." And in praise of the Elder
Moggallāna, he recited this stanza:--
Like bees, that harm no flower's scent or hue
But, laden with its honey, fly away,
So, sage, within thy village walk thy way 1.
Then, to set forth still more the Elder's goodness, he said,--"This is not the
first time, Brethren, that the miserly Treasurer has been converted by
Moggallāna. In other days too the Elder converted him, and taught him how deeds
and their effects are linked together." So saying, he told this story of the
past.
_____________________________
p. 198
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, there was a Treasurer,
Illīsa by name, who was worth eighty crores, and had all the defects which fall
to the lot of man. He was lame and crook-backed and had a squint; he was an
unconverted infidel, and a miser, never giving of his store to others, nor
enjoying it himself; his house was like a pool haunted by demons. Yet, for seven
generations, his ancestors had been bountiful, giving freely of their best; but,
when he became Treasurer, he broke through the traditions of his house. Burning
down the almonry and driving the poor with blows from his gates, he hoarded his
wealth.
One day, when he was returning from attendance on the king, he saw a yokel, who
had journeyed far and was a-weary, seated on a bench, and filling a mug from a
jar of rank spirits, and drinking it off, with a dainty morsel of stinking
dried-fish as a relish. The sight made the Treasurer feel a thirst for spirits,
but he thought to himself, [350] "If I drink, others will want to drink with me,
and that means a ruinous expense." So he walked about, keeping his thirst under.
But, as time wore on, he could do so no longer; he grew as yellow as old cotton;
and the veins stood out on his sunken frame. On a day, retiring to his chamber,
he lay down hugging his bed. His wife came to him, and rubbed his back, as she
asked, "What has gone amiss with my lord?"
(What follows is to be told in the words of the former story.) But, when she in
her turn said, "Then I'll only brew liquor enough for you," he said, "If you
make the brew in the house, there will be many on the watch; and to send out for
the spirits and sit and drink it here, is out of the question." So he produced
one single penny, and sent a slave to fetch him a jar of spirits from the
tavern. When the slave came back, he made him go from the town to the riverside
and put the jar down in a remote thicket. "Now be off!" said he, and made the
slave wait some distance off, while he filled his cup and fell to.
Now the Treasurer's father, who for his charity and other good works had been
re-born as Sakka in the Realm of Devas, was at that moment wondering whether his
bounty was still kept up or not, and became aware of the stopping of his bounty,
and of his son's behaviour. He saw how his son, breaking through the traditions
of his house, had burnt the almonry to the ground, had driven the poor with
blows from his gates, and how, in his miserliness, fearing to share with others,
that son had stolen away to a thicket to drink by himself. Moved by the sight,
Sakka cried, "I will go to him and make my son see that deeds must have their
consequences; I will work his conversion, and make him charitable and worthy of
re-birth in the Realm of Devas." So he came down to earth, and once more trod
the ways of men, putting on the semblance of the Treasurer Illīsa, with the
latter's lameness, and crookback, and squint. In this guise, he entered the city
of Rājagaha and made his way to the
p. 199
palace-gate, where he bade his coming be announced to the king. "Let him
approach," said the king; and he entered and stood with due obeisance before his
majesty.
"What brings you here at this unusual hour, Lord High Treasurer?" said the king.
"I am come, Sire, because I have in my house eighty crores of treasure. Deign to
have them carried to fill the royal treasury." "Nay, my Lord Treasurer; [351]
the treasure within my palace is greater than this." "If you, sire, will not
have it, I shall give it away to whom I will." "Do so by all means, Treasurer,"
said the king. "So be it, sire," said the pretended Illīsa, as with due
obeisance he departed from the presence to the Treasurer's house. The servants
all gathered round him, but not one could tell that it was not their real
master. Entering, he stood on the threshold and sent for the porter, to whom he
gave orders that if anybody resembling himself should appear and claim to be
master of the house they should soundly cudgel such a one and throw him out.
Then, mounting the stairs to the upper story, he sat down on a gorgeous couch
and sent for Illīsa's wife. When she came he said with a smile, "My dear, let us
be bountiful."
At these words, wife, children, and servants all thought, "It's a long time
since he was this way minded. He must have been drinking to be so good-natured
and generous to-day." And his wife said to him, "Be as bountiful as you please,
my husband." "Send for the crier," said he, "and bid him proclaim by beat of
drum all through the city that everyone who wants gold, silver, diamonds,
pearls, and the like, is to come to the house of Illīsa the Treasurer." His wife
did as he bade, and a large crowd soon assembled at the door carrying baskets
and sacks. Then Sakka bade the treasure-chambers be thrown open, anal cried,
"This is my gift to you; take what you will and go your ways." And the crowd
seized on the riches there stored, and piled them in heaps on the floor and
filled the bags and vessels they had brought, and went off laden with the
spoils. Among them was a countryman who yoked Illīsa's oxen to Illīsa's
carriage, filled it with the seven things of price, and journeyed out of the
city along the highroad. As he went along, he drew near the thicket, and sang
the Treasurer's praises in these words:--"May you live to be a hundred, my good
lord Illīsa! What you have done for me this day will enable me to live without
doing another stroke of work. Whose were these oxen?--yours. Whose was this
carriage?--yours. Whose the wealth in the carriage?--yours again. It was no
father or mother who gave me all this; no, it came solely from you, my lord."
These words filled the Lord High Treasurer with fear and trembling. "Why, the
fellow is mentioning my name in his talk," said he to himself. "Can the king
have been distributing my wealth to the people?" [352] At the bare thought he
bounded from the bush, and, recognizing his own
p. 200
oxen and cart, seized the oxen by the cord, crying, "Stop, fellow; these oxen
and this cart belong to me." Down leaped the man from the cart, angrily
exclaiming, "You rascal! Illīsa, the Lord High Treasurer, is giving away his
wealth to all the city. What has come to you?" And he sprang at the Treasurer
and struck him on the back like a falling thunder-bolt, and went off with the
cart. Illīsa picked himself up, trembling in every limb, wiped off the mud, and
hurrying after his cart, seized hold of it. Again the countryman got down, and
seizing Illīsa by the hair, doubled him up and thumped him about the head for
some time; then taking him by the throat, he flung him back the way be had come,
and drove off. Sobered by this rough usage, Illīsa hurried off home. There,
seeing folk making off with the treasure, he fell to laying hands on here a man
and there a man, shrieking, "Hi! what's this? Is the king despoiling me?" And
every man he laid hands on knocked him down. Bruised and smarting, he sought to
take refuge in his own house, when the porters stopped him with, "Holloa, you
rascal! Where might you be going?" And first thrashing him soundly with bamboos,
they took their master by the throat and threw him out of doors. "There is none
but the king left to see me righted," groaned Illīsa, and betook himself to the
palace. "Why, oh why, sire," he cried, "have you plundered me like this?"
"Nay, it was not I, my Lord Treasurer," said the king. "Did you not yourself
come and declare your intention of giving your wealth away, if I would not
accept it? And did you not then send the crier round and carry out your threat?"
"Oh sire, indeed it was not I that came to you on such an errand. Your majesty
knows how near and close I am, and how I never give away so much as the tiniest
drop of oil which a blade of grass will take up. May it please your majesty to
send for him who has given my substance away, and to question him on the
matter."
Then the king sent for Sakka. And so exactly alike were the two that neither the
king nor his court could tell which, was the real Lord High Treasurer. Said the
miser Illīsa, "Who, and what, sire, is this Treasurer? I am the Treasurer."
"Well, really I can't say which is the real Illīsa," said the king. "Is there
anybody who can distinguish them for certain?" "Yes, sire, my wife." So the wife
was sent for and asked which of the two was her husband. And she said Sakka was
her husband and went to his side. [353] Then in turn Illīsa's children and
servants were brought in and asked the same question; and all with one accord
declared Sakka was the real Lord High Treasurer. Here it flashed across Illīsa's
mind that he had a wart on his head, hidden among his hair, the existence of
which was known only to his barber. So, as a last resource, he asked that his
barber might be sent for to identify him. Now at this time the Bodhisatta was
his barber. Accordingly, the barber was sent for and asked if he could
p. 201
distinguish the real from the false Illīsa. "I could tell, sire," said he, "if I
might examine their heads." "Then look at both their heads," said the king. On
the instant Sakka caused a wart to rise on his head! After examining the two,
the Bodhisatta reported that, as both alike had got warts on their heads, he
couldn't for the life of him say which was the real man. And therewithal he
uttered this stanza:--
Both squint; both halt; both men are hunchbacks too;
And both have warts alike!
I cannot tell Which of the two the real Illīsa is.
[paragraph continues] Hearing his last hope thus fail him, the Lord High
Treasurer fell into a tremble; and such was his intolerable anguish at the loss
of his beloved riches, that down he fell in a swoon. Thereupon Sakka put forth
his transcendental powers, and, rising in the air, addressed the king thence in
these words: "Not Illīsa am I, O king, but Sakka." Then those around wiped
Illīsa's face and dashed water over him. Recovering, he rose to his feet and
bowed to the ground before Sakka, King of Devas. Then said Sakka, "Illīsa, mine
was the wealth, not thine; I am thy father, and thou art my son. In my lifetime
I was bountiful toward the poor and rejoiced in doing good; wherefore, I am
advanced to this high estate and am become Sakka. But thou, walking not in my
footsteps, art grown a niggard and a very miser; thou hast burnt my almonry to
the ground, driven the poor from the gate, and hoarded thy riches. Thou hast no
enjoyment thereof thyself, nor has any other human being; [354] but thy store is
become like a pool haunted by demons, whereat no man may slake his thirst.
Albeit, if thou wilt rebuild mine almonry and show bounty to the poor, it shall
be accounted to thee for righteousness. But, if thou wilt not, then will I strip
thee of all that thou hast, and cleave thy head with the thunderbolt of Indra,
and thou shalt die."
At this threat Illīsa, quaking for his life, cried out, "Henceforth I will be
bountiful." And Sakka accepted his promise, and, still seated in mid-air,
established his son in the Commandments and preached the Truth to him, departing
thereafter to his own abode. And Illīsa was diligent in almsgiving and other
good works, and so assured his re-birth thereafter in heaven.
_____________________________
"Brethren," said the Master, "this is not the first time that Moggallāna has
converted the miserly Treasurer; in bygone days too the same man was converted
by him." His lesson ended, he shewed the connexion and identified the Birth by
saying, "This miserly Treasurer was the Illīsa of those days, Moggallāna was
Sakka, King of Devas, Ānanda was the king, and I myself the barber."
[Note. Respecting this story, see an article by the translator in the Journal of
the Royal Asiatic Society for January 1892, entitled "The Lineage of the 'Proud
King'."]
Footnotes
197:1 This is verse 49 of the Dhammapada.
Next: No. 79. Kharassara-Jātaka
p. 195
No. 78.
ILLĪSA-JĀTAKA.
"Both squint."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, about a
miserly Lord High Treasurer. Hard by the city of Rājagaha, as we are told, was a
town named Jagghery, and here dwelt a certain Lord High Treasurer, known as the
Millionaire Miser, who was worth eighty crores! Not so much as the tiniest drop
of oil that a blade of grass will take up, did he either give away or consume
for his own enjoyment. So he made no use of all his wealth either for his family
or for sages and brahmins: it remained unenjoyed,--like a pool haunted by
demons. Now, it fell out on a day that the Master arose at dawn moved with a
great compassion, and as he reviewed those ripe for conversion throughout the
universe, he became aware that this Treasurer with his wife some four hundred
miles away were destined to tread the Paths of Salvation.
Now the day before, the Lord High Treasurer had gone his way to the palace to
wait upon the king, and was on his homeward way when he saw a country-bumpkin,
who was quite empty within, eating a cake stuffed with gruel. The sight awoke a
craving within him! But, arrived at his own house, [346] be thought to
himself,--"If I say I should like a stuffed cake, a whole host of people will
want to share my meal; and that means getting through ever so much of my rice
and ghee and sugar. I mustn't say a word to a soul." So he walked about,
wrestling with his craving. As hour after hour passed, he grew yellower and
yellower, and the veins stood out like cords on his emaciated frame. Unable at
last to bear it any longer, he went to his own room and lay down hugging his
bed. But still not a word would he say to a soul for fear of wasting his
substance! Well, his wife came to him, and, stroking his back, said: "What is
the matter, my husband?"
"Nothing," said he. "Perhaps the king has been cross to you?" "No, he has not."
"Have your children or servants done anything to annoy you?" "Nothing of that
kind, either." "Well, then, have you a craving for anything?" But still not a
word would he say,--all because of his preposterous fear that he might waste his
substance; but lay there speechless on his bed. "Speak, husband," said the wife;
"tell me what you have a craving for." "Yes," said he with a gulp, "I have got a
craving for one thing." "And what is that, my husband?" "I should like a stuffed
cake to eat!" "Now why not have said so at once? You're rich enough! I'll cook
cakes enough to feast the whole town of Jagghery." "Why trouble about them? They
must work to earn their own meal." "Well then, I'll cook only enough for our
street." "How rich you are!" "Then, I'll cook just enough for our own
household." "How extravagant you are!" "Very good, I'll cook only enough for our
children." "Why bother about them?" "Very good then, I'll only provide for our
two selves." "Why should you be in it?" "Then, I'll cook just enough for you
alone," said the wife.
"Softly," said the Lord High Treasurer; "there are a lot of people on the watch
for signs of cooking in this place. Pick out broken rice,--being careful to
leave the whole grain,--and take a brazier and cooking-pots and just a very
little milk and ghee and honey and molasses; then up with you to the seventh
story of the house and do the cooking up there. There I will sit alone and
undisturbed to eat."
Obedient to his wishes, the wife had all the necessary things carried up,
climbed all the way up herself, sent the servants away, and despatched word to
the Treasurer to come. Up he climbed, shutting and bolting door after door as he
ascended, till at last he came to the seventh floor, the door of which he also
shut fast. Then he sat down. His wife lit the fire in the brazier, put her pot
on, and set about cooking the cakes.
p. 196
Now in the early morning, the Master had said to the Elder Great
Moggallāna,--"Moggallāna, this Miser Millionaire [347] in the town of Jagghery
near Rājagaha, wanting to eat cakes himself, is so afraid of letting others
know, that he is having them cooked for him right up on the seventh story. Go
thither; convert the man to self-denial, and by transcendental power transport
husband and wife, cakes, milk, ghee and all, here to Jetavana. This day I and
the five hundred Brethren will stay at home, and I will make the cakes furnish
them with a meal."
Obedient to the Master's bidding, the Elder by supernatural power passed to the
town of Jagghery, and rested in mid-air before the chamber-window, duly clad in
his under and outer cloths, bright as a jewelled image. The unexpected sight of
the Elder made the Lord High Treasurer quake with fear. Thought he to himself,
"It was to escape such visitors that I climbed up here: and now there's one of
them at the window!" And, failing to realise the comprehension of that which he
must needs comprehend, he sputtered with rage, like sugar and salt thrown on the
fire, as he burst out with--"What will you get, sage, by your simply standing in
mid-air? Why, you may pace up and down till you've made a path in the pathless
air,--and yet you'll still get nothing."
The Elder began to pace to and fro in his place in the air! "What will you get
by pacing to and fro?" said the Treasurer! "You may sit cross-legged in
meditation in the air,--but still you'll get nothing." The Elder sat down with
legs crossed! Then said the Treasurer, "What will you get by sitting there? You
may come and stand on the window-sill; but even that won't get you any-thing!"
The Elder took his stand on the window-sill. "What will you get by standing on
the window-sill? Why, you may belch smoke, and yet you'll still get nothing!"
said the Treasurer. Then the Elder belched forth smoke till the whole palace was
filled with it. The Treasurer's eyes began to smart as though pricked with
needles; and, for fear at last that his house might be set on fire, he checked
himself from adding--"You won't get anything even if you burst into flames."
Thought he to himself, "This Elder is most persistent! He simply won't go away
empty-handed! I must have just one cake given him." So he said to his wife, "My
dear, cook one little cake and give it to the sage to get rid of him."
So she mixed quite a little dough in a crock. But the dough swelled and swelled
till it filled the whole crock, and grew to be a great big cake! "What a lot you
must have used!" exclaimed the Treasurer at the sight. And he himself with the
tip of a spoon took a very little of the dough, and put that in the oven to
bake. But that tiny piece of dough grew larger than the first lump; and, one
after another, every piece of dough he took became ever so big! Then he lost
heart and said to his wife, "You give him a cake, dear." But, as soon as she
took one cake from the basket, at once all the other cakes stuck fast to it. So
she cried out to her husband that all the cakes had stuck together, and that she
could not part them.
"Oh, I'll soon part them," said he,--but found he could not!
Then husband and wife both took hold of the mass of cakes at the corner and
tried to get them apart. But tug as they might, they could make no more
impression together than they did singly, on the mass. Now as the Treasurer was
pulling away at the cakes, he burst into a perspiration, and his craving left
him. Then said he to his wife, "I don't want the cakes; [348] give them, basket
and all, to this ascetic." And she approached the Elder with the basket in her
hand. Then the Elder preached the truth to the pair, and proclaimed the
excellence of the Three Gems. And, teaching that giving was true sacrifice, he
made the fruits of charity and other good works to shine forth even as the
full-moon in the heavens. Won by the Elder's words, the Treasurer said, "Sir,
come hither and sit on this couch to eat your cakes."
"Lord High Treasurer," said the Elder, "the All-Wise Buddha with five hundred
Brethren sits in the monastery waiting a meal of cakes. If such be your good
pleasure, I would ask you to bring your wife and the cakes with you, and let us
be going to the Master." "But where, sir, is the Master at the present
p. 197
time?" "Five and forty leagues away, in the monastery at Jetavana." "How are we
to get all that way, sir, without losing a long time on the road?" "If it be
your pleasure, Lord High Treasurer, I will transport you thither by my
transcendental powers. The head of the staircase in your house shall remain
where it is, but the bottom shall be at the main-gate of Jetavana. In this wise
will I transport you to the Master in the time which it takes to go downstairs."
"So be it, sir," said the Treasurer.
Then the Elder, keeping the top of the staircase where it was, commanded,
saying,--"Let the foot of the staircase be at the main-gate of Jetavana." And so
it came to pass! In this way did the Elder transport the Treasurer and his wife
to Jetavana quicker than they could get down the stairs.
Then husband and wife came before the Master and said meal-time had come. And
the Master, passing into the Refectory, sat down on the Buddha-seat prepared for
him, with the Brotherhood gathered round. Then the Lord High Treasurer poured
the Water of Donation over the hands of the Brotherhood with the Buddha at its
head, whilst his wife placed a cake in the alms-bowl of the Blessed One. Of this
he took what sufficed to support life, as also did the five hundred Brethren.
Next the Treasurer went round offering milk mixed with ghee and hooey and
jagghery; and the Master and the Brotherhood brought their meal to a close.
Lastly the Treasurer and his wife ate their fill, but still there seemed no end
to the cakes. Even when all the Brethren and the scrap-eaters through-out the
monastery had all had a share, still there was no sign of the end approaching.
So they told the Master, saying, "Sir, the supply of cakes grows no smaller."
"Then throw them down by the great gate of the monastery."
So they threw them away in a cave not far from the gateway; and to this day a
spot called 'The Crock-Cake,' is shown at the extremity of that cave.
The Lord High Treasurer and his wife approached and stood before the Blessed
One, who returned thanks; and at the close of his words of thanks, the pair
attained Fruition of the First Path of Salvation. Then, taking their leave of
the Master, the two mounted the stairs at the great gate and found themselves in
their own home once more. [349] Afterwards, the Lord High Treasurer lavished
eighty crores of money solely on the Faith the Buddha taught.
Next day the Perfect Buddha, returning to Jetavana after a round for alms in
Sāvatthi, delivered a Buddha-discourse to the Brethren before retiring to the
seclusion of the Perfumed Chamber. At evening, the Brethren gathered together in
the Hall of Truth, and exclaimed, "How great is the power of the Elder
Moggallāna! In a moment he converted a miser to charity, brought him with the
cakes to Jetavana, set him before the piaster, and stablished him in salvation.
How great is the power of the Elder!" As they sat talking thus of the goodness
of the Elder, the Master entered, and, on enquiry, was told of the subject of
their talk. "Brethren," said he, "a Brother who is the converter of a household,
should approach that household without causing it annoyance or vexation,--even
as the bee when it sucks the nectar from the flower; in such wise should he draw
nigh to declare the excellence of the Buddha." And in praise of the Elder
Moggallāna, he recited this stanza:--
Like bees, that harm no flower's scent or hue
But, laden with its honey, fly away,
So, sage, within thy village walk thy way 1.
Then, to set forth still more the Elder's goodness, he said,--"This is not the
first time, Brethren, that the miserly Treasurer has been converted by
Moggallāna. In other days too the Elder converted him, and taught him how deeds
and their effects are linked together." So saying, he told this story of the
past.
_____________________________
p. 198
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, there was a Treasurer,
Illīsa by name, who was worth eighty crores, and had all the defects which fall
to the lot of man. He was lame and crook-backed and had a squint; he was an
unconverted infidel, and a miser, never giving of his store to others, nor
enjoying it himself; his house was like a pool haunted by demons. Yet, for seven
generations, his ancestors had been bountiful, giving freely of their best; but,
when he became Treasurer, he broke through the traditions of his house. Burning
down the almonry and driving the poor with blows from his gates, he hoarded his
wealth.
One day, when he was returning from attendance on the king, he saw a yokel, who
had journeyed far and was a-weary, seated on a bench, and filling a mug from a
jar of rank spirits, and drinking it off, with a dainty morsel of stinking
dried-fish as a relish. The sight made the Treasurer feel a thirst for spirits,
but he thought to himself, [350] "If I drink, others will want to drink with me,
and that means a ruinous expense." So he walked about, keeping his thirst under.
But, as time wore on, he could do so no longer; he grew as yellow as old cotton;
and the veins stood out on his sunken frame. On a day, retiring to his chamber,
he lay down hugging his bed. His wife came to him, and rubbed his back, as she
asked, "What has gone amiss with my lord?"
(What follows is to be told in the words of the former story.) But, when she in
her turn said, "Then I'll only brew liquor enough for you," he said, "If you
make the brew in the house, there will be many on the watch; and to send out for
the spirits and sit and drink it here, is out of the question." So he produced
one single penny, and sent a slave to fetch him a jar of spirits from the
tavern. When the slave came back, he made him go from the town to the riverside
and put the jar down in a remote thicket. "Now be off!" said he, and made the
slave wait some distance off, while he filled his cup and fell to.
Now the Treasurer's father, who for his charity and other good works had been
re-born as Sakka in the Realm of Devas, was at that moment wondering whether his
bounty was still kept up or not, and became aware of the stopping of his bounty,
and of his son's behaviour. He saw how his son, breaking through the traditions
of his house, had burnt the almonry to the ground, had driven the poor with
blows from his gates, and how, in his miserliness, fearing to share with others,
that son had stolen away to a thicket to drink by himself. Moved by the sight,
Sakka cried, "I will go to him and make my son see that deeds must have their
consequences; I will work his conversion, and make him charitable and worthy of
re-birth in the Realm of Devas." So he came down to earth, and once more trod
the ways of men, putting on the semblance of the Treasurer Illīsa, with the
latter's lameness, and crookback, and squint. In this guise, he entered the city
of Rājagaha and made his way to the
p. 199
palace-gate, where he bade his coming be announced to the king. "Let him
approach," said the king; and he entered and stood with due obeisance before his
majesty.
"What brings you here at this unusual hour, Lord High Treasurer?" said the king.
"I am come, Sire, because I have in my house eighty crores of treasure. Deign to
have them carried to fill the royal treasury." "Nay, my Lord Treasurer; [351]
the treasure within my palace is greater than this." "If you, sire, will not
have it, I shall give it away to whom I will." "Do so by all means, Treasurer,"
said the king. "So be it, sire," said the pretended Illīsa, as with due
obeisance he departed from the presence to the Treasurer's house. The servants
all gathered round him, but not one could tell that it was not their real
master. Entering, he stood on the threshold and sent for the porter, to whom he
gave orders that if anybody resembling himself should appear and claim to be
master of the house they should soundly cudgel such a one and throw him out.
Then, mounting the stairs to the upper story, he sat down on a gorgeous couch
and sent for Illīsa's wife. When she came he said with a smile, "My dear, let us
be bountiful."
At these words, wife, children, and servants all thought, "It's a long time
since he was this way minded. He must have been drinking to be so good-natured
and generous to-day." And his wife said to him, "Be as bountiful as you please,
my husband." "Send for the crier," said he, "and bid him proclaim by beat of
drum all through the city that everyone who wants gold, silver, diamonds,
pearls, and the like, is to come to the house of Illīsa the Treasurer." His wife
did as he bade, and a large crowd soon assembled at the door carrying baskets
and sacks. Then Sakka bade the treasure-chambers be thrown open, anal cried,
"This is my gift to you; take what you will and go your ways." And the crowd
seized on the riches there stored, and piled them in heaps on the floor and
filled the bags and vessels they had brought, and went off laden with the
spoils. Among them was a countryman who yoked Illīsa's oxen to Illīsa's
carriage, filled it with the seven things of price, and journeyed out of the
city along the highroad. As he went along, he drew near the thicket, and sang
the Treasurer's praises in these words:--"May you live to be a hundred, my good
lord Illīsa! What you have done for me this day will enable me to live without
doing another stroke of work. Whose were these oxen?--yours. Whose was this
carriage?--yours. Whose the wealth in the carriage?--yours again. It was no
father or mother who gave me all this; no, it came solely from you, my lord."
These words filled the Lord High Treasurer with fear and trembling. "Why, the
fellow is mentioning my name in his talk," said he to himself. "Can the king
have been distributing my wealth to the people?" [352] At the bare thought he
bounded from the bush, and, recognizing his own
p. 200
oxen and cart, seized the oxen by the cord, crying, "Stop, fellow; these oxen
and this cart belong to me." Down leaped the man from the cart, angrily
exclaiming, "You rascal! Illīsa, the Lord High Treasurer, is giving away his
wealth to all the city. What has come to you?" And he sprang at the Treasurer
and struck him on the back like a falling thunder-bolt, and went off with the
cart. Illīsa picked himself up, trembling in every limb, wiped off the mud, and
hurrying after his cart, seized hold of it. Again the countryman got down, and
seizing Illīsa by the hair, doubled him up and thumped him about the head for
some time; then taking him by the throat, he flung him back the way be had come,
and drove off. Sobered by this rough usage, Illīsa hurried off home. There,
seeing folk making off with the treasure, he fell to laying hands on here a man
and there a man, shrieking, "Hi! what's this? Is the king despoiling me?" And
every man he laid hands on knocked him down. Bruised and smarting, he sought to
take refuge in his own house, when the porters stopped him with, "Holloa, you
rascal! Where might you be going?" And first thrashing him soundly with bamboos,
they took their master by the throat and threw him out of doors. "There is none
but the king left to see me righted," groaned Illīsa, and betook himself to the
palace. "Why, oh why, sire," he cried, "have you plundered me like this?"
"Nay, it was not I, my Lord Treasurer," said the king. "Did you not yourself
come and declare your intention of giving your wealth away, if I would not
accept it? And did you not then send the crier round and carry out your threat?"
"Oh sire, indeed it was not I that came to you on such an errand. Your majesty
knows how near and close I am, and how I never give away so much as the tiniest
drop of oil which a blade of grass will take up. May it please your majesty to
send for him who has given my substance away, and to question him on the
matter."
Then the king sent for Sakka. And so exactly alike were the two that neither the
king nor his court could tell which, was the real Lord High Treasurer. Said the
miser Illīsa, "Who, and what, sire, is this Treasurer? I am the Treasurer."
"Well, really I can't say which is the real Illīsa," said the king. "Is there
anybody who can distinguish them for certain?" "Yes, sire, my wife." So the wife
was sent for and asked which of the two was her husband. And she said Sakka was
her husband and went to his side. [353] Then in turn Illīsa's children and
servants were brought in and asked the same question; and all with one accord
declared Sakka was the real Lord High Treasurer. Here it flashed across Illīsa's
mind that he had a wart on his head, hidden among his hair, the existence of
which was known only to his barber. So, as a last resource, he asked that his
barber might be sent for to identify him. Now at this time the Bodhisatta was
his barber. Accordingly, the barber was sent for and asked if he could
p. 201
distinguish the real from the false Illīsa. "I could tell, sire," said he, "if I
might examine their heads." "Then look at both their heads," said the king. On
the instant Sakka caused a wart to rise on his head! After examining the two,
the Bodhisatta reported that, as both alike had got warts on their heads, he
couldn't for the life of him say which was the real man. And therewithal he
uttered this stanza:--
Both squint; both halt; both men are hunchbacks too;
And both have warts alike!
I cannot tell Which of the two the real Illīsa is.
[paragraph continues] Hearing his last hope thus fail him, the Lord High
Treasurer fell into a tremble; and such was his intolerable anguish at the loss
of his beloved riches, that down he fell in a swoon. Thereupon Sakka put forth
his transcendental powers, and, rising in the air, addressed the king thence in
these words: "Not Illīsa am I, O king, but Sakka." Then those around wiped
Illīsa's face and dashed water over him. Recovering, he rose to his feet and
bowed to the ground before Sakka, King of Devas. Then said Sakka, "Illīsa, mine
was the wealth, not thine; I am thy father, and thou art my son. In my lifetime
I was bountiful toward the poor and rejoiced in doing good; wherefore, I am
advanced to this high estate and am become Sakka. But thou, walking not in my
footsteps, art grown a niggard and a very miser; thou hast burnt my almonry to
the ground, driven the poor from the gate, and hoarded thy riches. Thou hast no
enjoyment thereof thyself, nor has any other human being; [354] but thy store is
become like a pool haunted by demons, whereat no man may slake his thirst.
Albeit, if thou wilt rebuild mine almonry and show bounty to the poor, it shall
be accounted to thee for righteousness. But, if thou wilt not, then will I strip
thee of all that thou hast, and cleave thy head with the thunderbolt of Indra,
and thou shalt die."
At this threat Illīsa, quaking for his life, cried out, "Henceforth I will be
bountiful." And Sakka accepted his promise, and, still seated in mid-air,
established his son in the Commandments and preached the Truth to him, departing
thereafter to his own abode. And Illīsa was diligent in almsgiving and other
good works, and so assured his re-birth thereafter in heaven.
_____________________________
"Brethren," said the Master, "this is not the first time that Moggallāna has
converted the miserly Treasurer; in bygone days too the same man was converted
by him." His lesson ended, he shewed the connexion and identified the Birth by
saying, "This miserly Treasurer was the Illīsa of those days, Moggallāna was
Sakka, King of Devas, Ānanda was the king, and I myself the barber."
[Note. Respecting this story, see an article by the translator in the Journal of
the Royal Asiatic Society for January 1892, entitled "The Lineage of the 'Proud
King'."]
Footnotes
197:1 This is verse 49 of the Dhammapada.
Next: No. 79. Kharassara-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Mahasupina Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 77. Mahāsupina-Jātaka
p. 187
No. 77.
MAHĀSUPINA-JĀTAKA.
"Bulls first, and trees."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana
about sixteen wonderful dreams. For in the last watch of one night (so tradition
says) the King of Kosala, who had been asleep all the night, dreamed sixteen
great dreams, [335] and woke up in great fright and alarm as to what they might
portend for him. So strong was the fear of death upon him that he could not
stir, but lay there huddled up on his bed. Now, when the night grew light, his
brahmins and chaplains came to him and with due obeisance asked whether his
majesty had slept well.
"How could I sleep well, my directors?" answered the king. "For just at daybreak
I dreamed sixteen wonderful dreams, and I have been in terror ever since! Tell
me, my directors, what it all means."
"We shall be able to judge, on hearing them."
Then the king told them his dreams, and asked what those visions would entail
upon him.
The brahmins fell a-wringing their hands! "Why wring your hands, brahmins?"
asked the king. "Because, sire, these are evil dreams." "What will come of
them?" said the king. "One of three calamities,--harm to your kingdom, to your
life, or to your riches." "Is there a remedy, or is there not?" "Undoubtedly
these dreams in themselves are so threatening as to be without remedy; but none
the less we will find a remedy for them. Otherwise, what boots our much study
and learning?" "What then do you propose to do to avert the evil?" "Wherever
four roads meet, we would offer sacrifice, sire." "My directors," cried the king
in his terror, "my life is in your hands; make haste and work my safety." "Large
sums of money, and large supplies of food of every kind will be ours," thought
the exultant brahmins; and, bidding the king have no fear, they departed from
the palace. Outside the town they dug a sacrificial pit and collected a host of
fourfooted creatures, perfect and without blemish, and a multitude of birds. But
still they discovered something lacking, and back they kept coming to the king
to ask for this that and the other. Now their doings were watched by Queen
Mallikā, who came to the king and asked what made these brahmins keep coming to
him.
"I envy you," said the king; "a snake in your ear, and you not to know of it!"
"What does your majesty mean?" "I have dreamed, oh such unlucky dreams! The
brahmins tell me they point to one of three calamities; and they are anxious to
offer sacrifices to avert the evil. And this is what brings them here so often."
"But has your majesty consulted the Chief Brahmin both of this world and of the
world of devas?" "Who, pray, may he be, my dear?" asked the king. "Know you not
that chiefest personage of all the world, the all-knowing and pure, the spotless
master-brahmin? Surely, he, the Blessed One, will understand your dreams. Go,
ask him." "And so I will, my queen," said the king. And away he went to the
monastery, saluted the Master, and sat down. "What, pray, brings your majesty
here so early in the morning?" asked the Master in his sweet tones. "Sir," said
the king, "just before daybreak [336] I dreamed sixteen wonderful dreams, which
so terrified me that I told them to the brahmins. They told me that my dreams
boded evil, and that to avert the threatened calamity they must offer sacrifice
wherever four roads met. And so they are busy with their preparations, and many
living creatures have the fear of death before their eyes. But I pray you, who
are the chiefest personage in the world of men and devas, you into whose ken
comes all possible knowledge of things past and present and to be,--I pray you
tell me what will come of my dreams, O Blessed One."
p. 188
"True it is, sire, that there is none other save me, who can tell what your
dreams signify or what will come of them. I will tell you. Only first of all
relate to me your dreams as they appeared to you."
"I will, sir," said the king, and at once began this list, following the order
of the dreams' appearance:--
Bulls first, and trees, and cows, and calves,
Horse, dish, she-jackal, waterpot,
A pond, raw rice, and sandal-wood,
And gourds that sank, and stones that swam 1,
With frogs that gobbled up black snakes,
A crow with gay-plumed retinue,
And wolves in panic-fear of goats!
"How was it, sir, that I had the following one of my dreams? Methought, four
black bulls, like collyrium in hue, came from the four cardinal directions to
the royal courtyard with avowed intent to fight; and people flocked together to
see the bull-fight, till a great crowd had gathered. But the bulls only made a
show of fighting, roared and bellowed, and finally went off without fighting at
all. This was my first dream. What will come of it?"
"Sire, that dream shall have no issue in your days or in mine. But hereafter,
when kings shall be niggardly and unrighteous, and when folk shall be
unrighteous, in days when the world is perverted, when good is waning and evil
waxing apace,--in those days of the world's backsliding there shall fall no rain
from the heavens, the feet of the storm shall be lamed, the crops shall wither,
and famine shall be on the land. Then shall the clouds gather as if for rain
from the four quarters of the heavens; there shall be haste first to carry
indoors the rice and crops that the women have spread in the sun to dry, for
fear the harvest should get wet; and then with spade and basket in hand the men
shall go forth to bank up the dykes. As though in sign of coming rain, the
thunder shall bellow, the lightning shall flash from the clouds,--but even as
the bulls in your dream, that fought not, so the clouds shall flee away without
raining. This is what shall come of this dream. But no harm shall come therefrom
to you; [337] for it was with regard to the future that you dreamed this dream.
What the brahmins told you, was said only to get themselves a livelihood." And
when the Master had thus. told the fulfilment of this dream, he said, "Tell me
your second dream, sire."
"Sir," said the king, "my second dream was after this manner:--Methought little
tiny trees and shrubs burst through the soil, and when they had grown scarce a
span or two high, they flowered and bore fruit! This was my second dream; what
shall come of it?"
"Sire," said the Master, "this dream shall have its fulfilment in days when the
world has fallen into decay and when men are shortlived. In times to come the
passions shall be strong; quite young girls shall go to live with men, and it
shall be with them after the manner of women, they shall conceive and bear
children. The flowers typify their issues, and the fruit their offspring. But
you, sire, have nothing to fear therefrom. Tell me your third dream, O great
king."
"Methought, sir, I saw cows sucking the milk of calves which they had borne that
selfsame day. This was my third dream. What shall come of it?"
"This dream too shall have its fulfilment only in days to come, when respect
shall cease to be paid to age. For in the future men, shewing no reverence for
parents or parents-in-law, shall themselves administer the family estate, and,
if such be their good pleasure, shall bestow food and clothing on the old folks,
but shall withhold their gifts, if it be not their pleasure to give. Then shall
the old folks, destitute and dependent, exist by favour of their own children,
like big cows suckled by calves a day old. But you have nothing to fear
therefrom. Tell me your fourth dream."
p. 189
"Methought, sir, I saw men unyoking a team of draught-oxen, sturdy and strong,
and setting young steers to draw the load; and the steers, proving unequal to
the task laid on them, refused and stood stock-still, so that wains moved not on
their way. This was my fourth dream. What shall come of it?"
"Here again the dream shall not have its fulfilment until the future, in the
days of unrighteous kings. For in days to come, unrighteous and niggardly kings
shall shew no honour to wise lords skilled in precedent, fertile in expedient,
and able to get through business; nor shall appoint to the courts of law and
justice aged councillors of wisdom and of learning in the law. Nay, they shall
honour the very young and foolish, and appoint such to preside in the courts.
And these latter, ignorant alike of state-craft and of practical knowledge,
shall not be able to bear the burthen of their honours or to govern, but because
of their incompetence shall throw off the yoke of office. Whereon the aged and
wise lords, albeit right able to cope with all difficulties, shall keep in mind
how they were passed over, and shall decline to aid, saying:--'It is no business
of ours; we are outsiders; let the boys of the inner circle see to it.' [338]
Hence they shall stand aloof, and ruin shall assail those kings on every hand.
It shall be even as when the yoke was laid on the young steers, who were not
strong enough for the burthen, and not upon the team of sturdy and strong
draught-oxen, who alone were able to do the work. Howbeit, you have nothing to
fear therefrom. Tell me your fifth dream."
"Methought, sir, I saw a horse with a mouth on either side, to which fodder was
given on both sides, and it ate with both its mouths. This was my fifth dream.
What shall come of it?"
"This dream too shall have its fulfilment only in the future, in the days of
unrighteous and foolish kings, who shall appoint unrighteous and covetous men to
be judges. These base ones, fools, despising the good, shall take bribes from
both sides as they sit in the seat of judgment, and shall be filled with this
two-fold corruption, even as the horse that ate fodder with two mouths at once.
Howbeit, you have nothing to fear therefrom. Tell me your sixth dream."
"Methought, sir, I saw people holding out a well-scoured golden bowl worth a
hundred thousand pieces, and begging an old jackal to stale therein. And I saw
the beast do so. This was my sixth dream. What shall come of it?"
"This dream too shall only have its fulfilment in the future. For in the days to
come, unrighteous kings, though sprung of a race of kings, mistrusting the
scions of their old nobility, shall not honour them, but exalt in their stead
the low-born; whereby the nobles shall be brought low and the law-born raised to
lordship. Then shall the great families be brought by very need to seek to live
by dependence on the upstarts, and shall offer them their daughters in marriage.
And the union of the noble maidens with the low-born shall be like unto the
staling of the old jackal in the golden bowl. Howbeit, you have nothing to fear
therefrom. Tell me your seventh dream."
"A man was weaving rope, sir, and as he wove, he threw it down at his feet.
Under his bench lay a hungry she jackal, which kept eating the rope as he wove,
but without the man knowing it. This is what I saw. This was my seventh dream.
What shall come of it?" 1
"This dream too shall not have its fulfilment till the future. For in days to
come, women shall lust after men and strong drink and finery and gadding abroad
and after the joys of this world. In their wickedness and profligacy these women
shall drink strong drink with their paramours; they shall flaunt in garlands and
perfumes and unguents; and heedless of even the most pressing of their household
duties, they shall keep watching for their paramours, even at crevices high up
in the outer wall; aye, they shall pound up the very seed-corn that should be
sown on the morrow so as to provide good cheer;--in all these ways shall they
plunder the store won by the hard work of their husbands in field and byre,
devouring the poor men's substance even as the hungry jackal under the bench ate
up the rope of the rope-maker as he wove it. [339] Howbeit, you have nothing to
fear therefrom. Tell me your eighth dream."
p. 190
"Methought, sir, I saw at a palace gate a big pitcher which was full to the brim
and stood amid a number of empty ones. And from the four cardinal points, and
from the four intermediate points as well, there kept coming a constant stream
of people of all the four castes, carrying water in pipkins and pouring it into
the full pitcher. And the water overflowed and ran away. But none the less they
still kept on pouring more and more water into the over-flowing vessel, without
a single man giving so much as a glance at the empty pitchers. This was my
eighth dream. What shall come of it?"
"This dream too shall not have its fulfilment until the future. For in days to
come the world shall decay; the kingdom shall grow weak, its kings shall grow
poor and niggardly; the foremost among them shall have no more than 100,000
pieces of money in his treasury. Then shall these kings in their need set the
whole of the country-folk to work for them;--for the kings' sake shall the
toiling folk, leaving their own work, sow grain and pulse, and keep watch and
reap and thresh and garner; for the kings' sake shall they plant sugar-canes,
make and drive sugar-mills, and boil down the molasses; for the kings' sake
shall they lay out flower-gardens and orchards, and gather in the fruits. And as
they gather in all the divers kinds of produce they shall fill the royal garners
to overflowing, not giving so much as a glance at their own empty barns at home.
Thus it shall be like filling up the full pitcher, heedless of the quite-empty
ones. Howbeit, you have nothing to fear therefrom. Tell me your ninth dream."
"Methought, sir, I saw a deep pool with shelving banks all round and over-grown
with the five kinds of lotuses. From every side two-footed creatures and
four-footed creatures flocked thither to drink of its waters. The depths in the
middle were muddy, but the water was clear and sparkling at the margin where the
various creatures went down into the pool. This was my ninth dream. What shall
come of it?"
"This dream too shall not have its fulfilment till the future. For in days to
come kings shall grow unrighteous; they shall rule after their own will and
pleasure, and shall not execute judgment according to righteousness. These kings
shall hunger after riches and wax fat on bribes; they shall not shew mercy, love
and compassion toward their people, but be fierce and cruel, amassing wealth by
crushing their subjects like sugar-canes in a mill and by taxing them even to
the uttermost farthing. Unable to pay the oppressive tax, the people Shall fly
from village and town and the like, and take refuge upon the borders of the
realm; the heart of the land shall be a wilderness, while the borders shall teem
with people,--even as the water was muddy in the middle of the pool and clear at
the margin. Howbeit, you have nothing to fear therefrom. [340] Tell me your
tenth dream."
"Methought, sir, I saw rice boiling in a pot without getting done. By not
getting done, I mean that it looked as though it were sharply marked off and
kept apart, so that the cooking went on in three distinct stages. For part was
sodden, part hard and raw, and part just cooked to a nicety. This was my tenth
dream. What shall come of it?"
"This dream too shall not have its fulfilment till the future. For in days to
come kings shall grow unrighteous; the people surrounding the kings shall grow
unrighteous too, as also shall brahmins and householders, townsmen, and
countryfolk; yes, all people alike shall grow unrighteous, not excepting even
sages and brahmins. Next, their very tutelary deities--the spirits to whom they
offer sacrifice, the spirits of the trees, and the spirits of the air--shall
become unrighteous also. The very winds that blow over the realms of these
unrighteous kings shall grow cruel and lawless; they shall shake the mansions of
the skies and thereby kindle the anger of the spirits that dwell there, so that
they will not suffer rain to fall--or, if it does rain, it shall not fall on all
the kingdom at once, nor shall the kindly shower fall on all tilled or sown
lands alike to help them in their need. And, as in the kingdom at large, so in
each several district and village and over each separate pool or lake, the rain
shall not fall at one and the same time on its whole expanse; if it rain on the
upper part, it shall not rain upon the lower; here the crops shall be spoiled by
a heavy downpour,
p. 191
there wither for very drought, and here again thrive apace with kindly showers
to water them. So the crops sown within the confines of a single kingdom--like
the rice in the one pot--shall have no uniform character. Howbeit, you have
nothing to fear therefrom. Tell me your eleventh dream."
"Methought, sir, I saw sour buttermilk bartered for precious sandal-wood, worth
100,000 pieces of money. This was my eleventh dream. What shall come of it?"
"This dream too shall not have its fulfilment till the future--in the days when
my doctrine is waning. For in days to come many greedy and shameless Brethren
shall arise, who for their belly's sake shall preach the very words in which I
inveighed against greed! Because they have deserted by reason of their belly and
have taken their stand on the side of the sectaries 1, they shall fail to make
their preaching lead up to Nirvana. Nay, their only thought, as they preach,
shall be by fine words and sweet voices to induce men to give them costly
raiment and the like, and to be minded to give such gifts. Others again seated
in the highways, at the street-corners, at the doors of kings' palaces, and so
forth, shall stoop to preach for money, yea for mere coined kahāpanas,
half-kahāpanas, pādas, or māsakas! 2 And as they thus barter away for food or
raiment or for kahāpanas and half-kahāpanas my doctrine the worth whereof is
Nirvana, they shall be even as those who bartered away for soar buttermilk
precious sandal-wood worth 100,000 pieces. [341] Howbeit, you have nothing to
fear therefrom. Tell me your twelfth dream."
"Methought, sir, I saw empty pumpkins sinking in the water. What shall come of
it?"
"This dream also shall not have its fulfilment till the future, in the days of
unrighteous kings, when the world is perverted. For in those days shall kings
shew favour not to the scions of the nobility, but to the low-born only; and
these latter shall become great lords, whilst the nobles sink into poverty.
Alike in the royal presence, in the palace gates, in the council chamber, and in
the courts of justice, the words of the low-born alone (whom the empty pumpkins
typify) shall be stablished, as though they had sunk down till they rested on
the bottom. So too in the assemblies of the Brotherhood, in the greater and
lesser conclaves, and in enquiries regarding bowls, robes, lodging, and the
like,--the counsel only of the wicked and the vile shall be considered to have
saving power, not that of the modest Brethren. Thus everywhere it shall be as
when the empty pumpkins sank. Howbeit, you have Nothing to fear therefrom. Tell
me your thirteenth dream."
Hereupon the king said, "Methought, sir, I saw huge blocks of solid rock, as big
as houses, floating like ships upon the waters. What shall come of it?"
"This dream also shall not have its fulfilment before such times as those of
which I have spoken. For in those days unrighteous kings shall shew honour to
the low-born, who shall become great lords, whilst the nobles sink into poverty.
Not to the nobles, but to the upstarts alone shall respect be paid. In the royal
presence, in the council chamber, or in the courts of justice, the words of the
nobles learned in the law (and it is they whom the solid rocks typify) shall
drift idly by, and not sink deep into the hearts of men; when they speak, the
upstarts shall merely laugh them to scorn, saying, 'What is this these fellows
are saying?' So too in the assemblies of the Brethren, as afore said, men shall
not deem worthy of respect the excellent among the Brethren; the words of such
shall not sink deep, but drift idly by,--even as when the rocks floated upon the
waters. Howbeit, you have nothing to fear therefrom. Tell me your fourteenth
dream."
"Methought, sir, I saw tiny frogs, no bigger than minute flowerets, swiftly
pursuing huge black snakes, chopping them up like so many lotus-stalks and
gobbling them up. What shall come of this?"
p. 192
"This dream too shall not have its fulfilment till those days to come such as
those of which I have spoken, when the world is decaying. For then shall men's
passions be so strong, and their lusts so hot, that they shall be the thralls of
the very youngest of their wives for the time being, at whose sole disposal
shall be slaves and hired servants, oxen, buffalos and all cattle, gold and
silver, and everything that is in the house. Should the poor husband ask where
the money (say) or a robe is, at once he shall be told that it is where it is,
that he should mind his own business, and not be so inquisitive as to what is,
or is not, in her house. And therewithal in divers ways the wives with abuse and
goading taunts shall establish their dominion over their husbands, as over
slaves and bond-servants. [342] Thus shall it be like as when the tiny frogs, no
bigger than minute flowerets, gobbled up the big black snakes. Howbeit, you have
nothing to fear therefrom. Tell me your fifteenth dream."
"Methought, sir, I saw a village crow, in which dwelt the whole of the Ten
Vices, escorted by a retinue of those birds which, because of their golden
sheen, are called Royal Golden Mallards. What shall come of it?"
"This dream too shall not have its fulfilment till the future, till the reign of
weakling kings. In days to come kings shall arise who shall know nothing about
elephants or other arts, and shall be cowards in the field. Fearing to be
deposed and cast from their royal estate, they shall raise to power not their
peers but their footmen, bath-attendants, barbers, and such like. Thus, shut out
from royal favour and unable to support themselves, the nobles shall be reduced
to dancing attendance on the upstarts,--as when the crow had Royal Golden
Mallards for a retinue. Howbeit, you have nothing to fear therefrom. Tell me
your sixteenth dream."
"Heretofore, sir, it always used to be panthers that preyed on goats; but
methought I saw goats chasing panthers and devouring them--munch, munch,
munch!--whilst at bare sight of the goats afar off, terror-stricken wolves fled
quaking with fear and hid themselves in their fastnesses in the thicket 1. Such
was my dream. What shall come of it?"
"This dream too shall not have its fulfilment till the future, till the reign of
unrighteous kings. In those days the low-born shall be raised to lordship and be
made royal favourites, whilst the nobles shall sink into obscurity and distress.
Gaining influence in the courts of law because of their favour with the king,
these upstarts shall claim perforce the ancestral estates, the raiment, and all
the property of the old nobility. And-when these latter plead their rights
before the courts, then shall the king's minions have them cudgelled and
bastinadoed and taken by the throat and cast out with words of scorn, such
as:--'Know your place, fools! What? do you dispute with us? The king shall know
of your insolence, and we will have your hands and feet chopped off and other
correctives applied!' Hereupon the terrified nobles shall affirm that their own
belongings really belong to the overbearing upstarts, and will tell the
favourites to accept them. And they shall hie them home and there cower in an
agony of fear. Likewise, evil Brethren shall harry at pleasure good and worthy
Brethren, till these latter, finding none to help them, shall flee to the
jungle. And this oppression of the nobles and of the good Brethren by the
low-born and by the evil brethren, shall be like the scaring of wolves by goats.
Howbeit, you have nothing to fear therefrom. For this dream too has reference to
future times only. [343] It was not truth, it was not love for you, that
prompted the brahmins to prophesy as they did. No, it was greed of gain, and the
insight that is bred of covetousness, that shaped all their self-seeking
utterances."
Thus did the Master expound the import of these sixteen great dreams,
adding,--"You, sire, are not the first to have these dreams; they were dreamed
by kings of bygone days also; and, then as now, the brahmins found in them a
pretext for sacrifices; whereupon, at the instance of the wise and good, the
Bodhisatta was consulted, and the dreams were expounded by them of old time
p. 193
in just the same manner as they have now been expounded." And so saying, at the
king's request, he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
a brahmin in the North country. When he came to years of discretion he renounced
the world for a hermit's life; he won the higher Knowledges and the Attainments,
and dwelt in the Himalaya country in the bliss that comes from Insight.
In those days, in just the same manner, Brahmadatta dreamed these dreams at
Benares, and enquired of the brahmins concerning them. And the brahmins, then as
now, set to work at sacrifices. Amongst them was a young brahmin of learning and
wisdom, a pupil of the king's chaplain, who addressed his master thus:--"Master,
you have taught me the Three Vedas. Is there not therein a text that says 'The
slaying of one creature giveth not life to another'?" "My son, this means money
to us, a great deal of money. You only seem anxious to spare the king's
treasury!" "Do as you will, master," said the young brahmin; "as for me, to what
end shall I tarry longer here with you?" And so saying, he left him, and betook
himself to the royal pleasaunce.
That selfsame day the Bodhisatta, knowing all this, thought to himself: "If I
visit to-day the haunts of men, I shall work the deliverance of a great
multitude from their bondage." So, passing through the air, he alighted in the
royal pleasaunce and seated himself, radiant as a statue of gold, upon the
Ceremonial Stone. The young brahmin drew near and with due obeisance seated
himself by the Bodhisatta in all friendliness. Sweet converse passed; and the
Bodhisatta asked whether the young brahmin thought the king ruled righteously.
"Sir," answered the young man, "the king is righteous himself; but the brahmins
make him side with evil. Being consulted by the king as to sixteen dreams which
he had dreamed, the brahmins clutched at the opportunity for sacrifices [344]
and set to work thereon. Oh, sir, would it not be a good thing that you should
offer to make known to the king the real import of his dreams and so deliver
great numbers of creatures from their dread?" "But, my son, I do not know the
king, nor he me. Still, if he should cone here and ask me, I will tell him." "I
will bring the king, sir," said the young brahmin; "if you will only be so good
as to wait here a minute till I come back." And having gained the Bodhisatta's
consent, he went before the king, and said that there had alighted in the royal
pleasaunce an air-travelling ascetic, who said he would expound the king's
dreams; would not his majesty relate them to this ascetic?
When the king heard this, he repaired at once to the pleasaunce with a large
retinue. Saluting the ascetic, he sat down by the holy man's
p. 194
side, and asked whether it was true that he knew what would come of his dreams.
"Certainly, sire," said the Bodhisatta; "but first let me hear the dreams as you
dreamed them." "Readily, sir," answered the king; and he began as follows:--
Bulls first, and trees, and cows, and calves,
Horse, dish, she-jackal, waterpot,
A pond, raw rice, and sandal-wood,
And gourds that sank, and stones that swam,
and so forth, ending up with
And wolves in panic-fear of goats.
[paragraph continues] And his majesty went on to tell his dreams in just the
same manner as that in which King Pasenadi had described them. [345]
"Enough," said the Great Being; "you have nothing to fear or dread from all
this." Having thus reassured the king, and having freed a great multitude from
bondage, the Bodhisatta again took up his position in mid-air, whence he
exhorted the king and established him in the Five Commandments, ending with
these words:--"Henceforth, O king, join not with the brahmins in slaughtering
animals for sacrifice." His teaching ended, the Bodhisatta passed straight
through the air to his own abode. And the king, remaining stedfast in the
teaching he had heard, passed away after a life of alms-giving and other good
works to fare according to his deserts.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master said, "You have nothing to fear from these dreams;
away with the sacrifice!" Having had the sacrifice removed, and having saved the
lives of a multitude of creatures, he shewed the connexion and identified the
Birth by saying, "Ānanda was the king of those days, Sāriputta the young
Brahmin, and I the ascetic."
(Pāli note. But after the passing of the Blessed One, the Editors of the Great
Redaction put the three first lines into the Commentary, and making the lines
from 'And gourds that sank' into one Stanza (therewith) 1, put the whole story
into the First Book.)
[Note. Cf. Sacy's Kalilah and Dimnah, chapter 14; Benfey's Pañcatantra § 225;
JṚ.AṢ. for 1893 page 509; and Rouse ('A Jātaka in Pausanias') in 'Folklore' i.
409 (1890).]
Footnotes
188:1 See Mahā-Vīra-Carita, p. 13, Mahābhārata II. 2196.
189:1 Cf. the story of Ocnus in Pausanias x. 29.
191:1 Reading titthakarānaṁ pakkhe, as conjectured by Fausböll.
191:2 See Vinaya II. 294 for the same list; and see page 6 of Rhys Davids'
"Ancient Coins and Measures of Ceylon" in Numismata Orientalia (Trübner).
192:1 Here the Pāli interpolates the irrelevant remark that "the word hi is
nothing more than a particle."
194:1 I am not at all sure that this is the correct translation of this
difficult and corrupt passage.
Next: No. 78. Illīsa-Jātaka
p. 187
No. 77.
MAHĀSUPINA-JĀTAKA.
"Bulls first, and trees."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana
about sixteen wonderful dreams. For in the last watch of one night (so tradition
says) the King of Kosala, who had been asleep all the night, dreamed sixteen
great dreams, [335] and woke up in great fright and alarm as to what they might
portend for him. So strong was the fear of death upon him that he could not
stir, but lay there huddled up on his bed. Now, when the night grew light, his
brahmins and chaplains came to him and with due obeisance asked whether his
majesty had slept well.
"How could I sleep well, my directors?" answered the king. "For just at daybreak
I dreamed sixteen wonderful dreams, and I have been in terror ever since! Tell
me, my directors, what it all means."
"We shall be able to judge, on hearing them."
Then the king told them his dreams, and asked what those visions would entail
upon him.
The brahmins fell a-wringing their hands! "Why wring your hands, brahmins?"
asked the king. "Because, sire, these are evil dreams." "What will come of
them?" said the king. "One of three calamities,--harm to your kingdom, to your
life, or to your riches." "Is there a remedy, or is there not?" "Undoubtedly
these dreams in themselves are so threatening as to be without remedy; but none
the less we will find a remedy for them. Otherwise, what boots our much study
and learning?" "What then do you propose to do to avert the evil?" "Wherever
four roads meet, we would offer sacrifice, sire." "My directors," cried the king
in his terror, "my life is in your hands; make haste and work my safety." "Large
sums of money, and large supplies of food of every kind will be ours," thought
the exultant brahmins; and, bidding the king have no fear, they departed from
the palace. Outside the town they dug a sacrificial pit and collected a host of
fourfooted creatures, perfect and without blemish, and a multitude of birds. But
still they discovered something lacking, and back they kept coming to the king
to ask for this that and the other. Now their doings were watched by Queen
Mallikā, who came to the king and asked what made these brahmins keep coming to
him.
"I envy you," said the king; "a snake in your ear, and you not to know of it!"
"What does your majesty mean?" "I have dreamed, oh such unlucky dreams! The
brahmins tell me they point to one of three calamities; and they are anxious to
offer sacrifices to avert the evil. And this is what brings them here so often."
"But has your majesty consulted the Chief Brahmin both of this world and of the
world of devas?" "Who, pray, may he be, my dear?" asked the king. "Know you not
that chiefest personage of all the world, the all-knowing and pure, the spotless
master-brahmin? Surely, he, the Blessed One, will understand your dreams. Go,
ask him." "And so I will, my queen," said the king. And away he went to the
monastery, saluted the Master, and sat down. "What, pray, brings your majesty
here so early in the morning?" asked the Master in his sweet tones. "Sir," said
the king, "just before daybreak [336] I dreamed sixteen wonderful dreams, which
so terrified me that I told them to the brahmins. They told me that my dreams
boded evil, and that to avert the threatened calamity they must offer sacrifice
wherever four roads met. And so they are busy with their preparations, and many
living creatures have the fear of death before their eyes. But I pray you, who
are the chiefest personage in the world of men and devas, you into whose ken
comes all possible knowledge of things past and present and to be,--I pray you
tell me what will come of my dreams, O Blessed One."
p. 188
"True it is, sire, that there is none other save me, who can tell what your
dreams signify or what will come of them. I will tell you. Only first of all
relate to me your dreams as they appeared to you."
"I will, sir," said the king, and at once began this list, following the order
of the dreams' appearance:--
Bulls first, and trees, and cows, and calves,
Horse, dish, she-jackal, waterpot,
A pond, raw rice, and sandal-wood,
And gourds that sank, and stones that swam 1,
With frogs that gobbled up black snakes,
A crow with gay-plumed retinue,
And wolves in panic-fear of goats!
"How was it, sir, that I had the following one of my dreams? Methought, four
black bulls, like collyrium in hue, came from the four cardinal directions to
the royal courtyard with avowed intent to fight; and people flocked together to
see the bull-fight, till a great crowd had gathered. But the bulls only made a
show of fighting, roared and bellowed, and finally went off without fighting at
all. This was my first dream. What will come of it?"
"Sire, that dream shall have no issue in your days or in mine. But hereafter,
when kings shall be niggardly and unrighteous, and when folk shall be
unrighteous, in days when the world is perverted, when good is waning and evil
waxing apace,--in those days of the world's backsliding there shall fall no rain
from the heavens, the feet of the storm shall be lamed, the crops shall wither,
and famine shall be on the land. Then shall the clouds gather as if for rain
from the four quarters of the heavens; there shall be haste first to carry
indoors the rice and crops that the women have spread in the sun to dry, for
fear the harvest should get wet; and then with spade and basket in hand the men
shall go forth to bank up the dykes. As though in sign of coming rain, the
thunder shall bellow, the lightning shall flash from the clouds,--but even as
the bulls in your dream, that fought not, so the clouds shall flee away without
raining. This is what shall come of this dream. But no harm shall come therefrom
to you; [337] for it was with regard to the future that you dreamed this dream.
What the brahmins told you, was said only to get themselves a livelihood." And
when the Master had thus. told the fulfilment of this dream, he said, "Tell me
your second dream, sire."
"Sir," said the king, "my second dream was after this manner:--Methought little
tiny trees and shrubs burst through the soil, and when they had grown scarce a
span or two high, they flowered and bore fruit! This was my second dream; what
shall come of it?"
"Sire," said the Master, "this dream shall have its fulfilment in days when the
world has fallen into decay and when men are shortlived. In times to come the
passions shall be strong; quite young girls shall go to live with men, and it
shall be with them after the manner of women, they shall conceive and bear
children. The flowers typify their issues, and the fruit their offspring. But
you, sire, have nothing to fear therefrom. Tell me your third dream, O great
king."
"Methought, sir, I saw cows sucking the milk of calves which they had borne that
selfsame day. This was my third dream. What shall come of it?"
"This dream too shall have its fulfilment only in days to come, when respect
shall cease to be paid to age. For in the future men, shewing no reverence for
parents or parents-in-law, shall themselves administer the family estate, and,
if such be their good pleasure, shall bestow food and clothing on the old folks,
but shall withhold their gifts, if it be not their pleasure to give. Then shall
the old folks, destitute and dependent, exist by favour of their own children,
like big cows suckled by calves a day old. But you have nothing to fear
therefrom. Tell me your fourth dream."
p. 189
"Methought, sir, I saw men unyoking a team of draught-oxen, sturdy and strong,
and setting young steers to draw the load; and the steers, proving unequal to
the task laid on them, refused and stood stock-still, so that wains moved not on
their way. This was my fourth dream. What shall come of it?"
"Here again the dream shall not have its fulfilment until the future, in the
days of unrighteous kings. For in days to come, unrighteous and niggardly kings
shall shew no honour to wise lords skilled in precedent, fertile in expedient,
and able to get through business; nor shall appoint to the courts of law and
justice aged councillors of wisdom and of learning in the law. Nay, they shall
honour the very young and foolish, and appoint such to preside in the courts.
And these latter, ignorant alike of state-craft and of practical knowledge,
shall not be able to bear the burthen of their honours or to govern, but because
of their incompetence shall throw off the yoke of office. Whereon the aged and
wise lords, albeit right able to cope with all difficulties, shall keep in mind
how they were passed over, and shall decline to aid, saying:--'It is no business
of ours; we are outsiders; let the boys of the inner circle see to it.' [338]
Hence they shall stand aloof, and ruin shall assail those kings on every hand.
It shall be even as when the yoke was laid on the young steers, who were not
strong enough for the burthen, and not upon the team of sturdy and strong
draught-oxen, who alone were able to do the work. Howbeit, you have nothing to
fear therefrom. Tell me your fifth dream."
"Methought, sir, I saw a horse with a mouth on either side, to which fodder was
given on both sides, and it ate with both its mouths. This was my fifth dream.
What shall come of it?"
"This dream too shall have its fulfilment only in the future, in the days of
unrighteous and foolish kings, who shall appoint unrighteous and covetous men to
be judges. These base ones, fools, despising the good, shall take bribes from
both sides as they sit in the seat of judgment, and shall be filled with this
two-fold corruption, even as the horse that ate fodder with two mouths at once.
Howbeit, you have nothing to fear therefrom. Tell me your sixth dream."
"Methought, sir, I saw people holding out a well-scoured golden bowl worth a
hundred thousand pieces, and begging an old jackal to stale therein. And I saw
the beast do so. This was my sixth dream. What shall come of it?"
"This dream too shall only have its fulfilment in the future. For in the days to
come, unrighteous kings, though sprung of a race of kings, mistrusting the
scions of their old nobility, shall not honour them, but exalt in their stead
the low-born; whereby the nobles shall be brought low and the law-born raised to
lordship. Then shall the great families be brought by very need to seek to live
by dependence on the upstarts, and shall offer them their daughters in marriage.
And the union of the noble maidens with the low-born shall be like unto the
staling of the old jackal in the golden bowl. Howbeit, you have nothing to fear
therefrom. Tell me your seventh dream."
"A man was weaving rope, sir, and as he wove, he threw it down at his feet.
Under his bench lay a hungry she jackal, which kept eating the rope as he wove,
but without the man knowing it. This is what I saw. This was my seventh dream.
What shall come of it?" 1
"This dream too shall not have its fulfilment till the future. For in days to
come, women shall lust after men and strong drink and finery and gadding abroad
and after the joys of this world. In their wickedness and profligacy these women
shall drink strong drink with their paramours; they shall flaunt in garlands and
perfumes and unguents; and heedless of even the most pressing of their household
duties, they shall keep watching for their paramours, even at crevices high up
in the outer wall; aye, they shall pound up the very seed-corn that should be
sown on the morrow so as to provide good cheer;--in all these ways shall they
plunder the store won by the hard work of their husbands in field and byre,
devouring the poor men's substance even as the hungry jackal under the bench ate
up the rope of the rope-maker as he wove it. [339] Howbeit, you have nothing to
fear therefrom. Tell me your eighth dream."
p. 190
"Methought, sir, I saw at a palace gate a big pitcher which was full to the brim
and stood amid a number of empty ones. And from the four cardinal points, and
from the four intermediate points as well, there kept coming a constant stream
of people of all the four castes, carrying water in pipkins and pouring it into
the full pitcher. And the water overflowed and ran away. But none the less they
still kept on pouring more and more water into the over-flowing vessel, without
a single man giving so much as a glance at the empty pitchers. This was my
eighth dream. What shall come of it?"
"This dream too shall not have its fulfilment until the future. For in days to
come the world shall decay; the kingdom shall grow weak, its kings shall grow
poor and niggardly; the foremost among them shall have no more than 100,000
pieces of money in his treasury. Then shall these kings in their need set the
whole of the country-folk to work for them;--for the kings' sake shall the
toiling folk, leaving their own work, sow grain and pulse, and keep watch and
reap and thresh and garner; for the kings' sake shall they plant sugar-canes,
make and drive sugar-mills, and boil down the molasses; for the kings' sake
shall they lay out flower-gardens and orchards, and gather in the fruits. And as
they gather in all the divers kinds of produce they shall fill the royal garners
to overflowing, not giving so much as a glance at their own empty barns at home.
Thus it shall be like filling up the full pitcher, heedless of the quite-empty
ones. Howbeit, you have nothing to fear therefrom. Tell me your ninth dream."
"Methought, sir, I saw a deep pool with shelving banks all round and over-grown
with the five kinds of lotuses. From every side two-footed creatures and
four-footed creatures flocked thither to drink of its waters. The depths in the
middle were muddy, but the water was clear and sparkling at the margin where the
various creatures went down into the pool. This was my ninth dream. What shall
come of it?"
"This dream too shall not have its fulfilment till the future. For in days to
come kings shall grow unrighteous; they shall rule after their own will and
pleasure, and shall not execute judgment according to righteousness. These kings
shall hunger after riches and wax fat on bribes; they shall not shew mercy, love
and compassion toward their people, but be fierce and cruel, amassing wealth by
crushing their subjects like sugar-canes in a mill and by taxing them even to
the uttermost farthing. Unable to pay the oppressive tax, the people Shall fly
from village and town and the like, and take refuge upon the borders of the
realm; the heart of the land shall be a wilderness, while the borders shall teem
with people,--even as the water was muddy in the middle of the pool and clear at
the margin. Howbeit, you have nothing to fear therefrom. [340] Tell me your
tenth dream."
"Methought, sir, I saw rice boiling in a pot without getting done. By not
getting done, I mean that it looked as though it were sharply marked off and
kept apart, so that the cooking went on in three distinct stages. For part was
sodden, part hard and raw, and part just cooked to a nicety. This was my tenth
dream. What shall come of it?"
"This dream too shall not have its fulfilment till the future. For in days to
come kings shall grow unrighteous; the people surrounding the kings shall grow
unrighteous too, as also shall brahmins and householders, townsmen, and
countryfolk; yes, all people alike shall grow unrighteous, not excepting even
sages and brahmins. Next, their very tutelary deities--the spirits to whom they
offer sacrifice, the spirits of the trees, and the spirits of the air--shall
become unrighteous also. The very winds that blow over the realms of these
unrighteous kings shall grow cruel and lawless; they shall shake the mansions of
the skies and thereby kindle the anger of the spirits that dwell there, so that
they will not suffer rain to fall--or, if it does rain, it shall not fall on all
the kingdom at once, nor shall the kindly shower fall on all tilled or sown
lands alike to help them in their need. And, as in the kingdom at large, so in
each several district and village and over each separate pool or lake, the rain
shall not fall at one and the same time on its whole expanse; if it rain on the
upper part, it shall not rain upon the lower; here the crops shall be spoiled by
a heavy downpour,
p. 191
there wither for very drought, and here again thrive apace with kindly showers
to water them. So the crops sown within the confines of a single kingdom--like
the rice in the one pot--shall have no uniform character. Howbeit, you have
nothing to fear therefrom. Tell me your eleventh dream."
"Methought, sir, I saw sour buttermilk bartered for precious sandal-wood, worth
100,000 pieces of money. This was my eleventh dream. What shall come of it?"
"This dream too shall not have its fulfilment till the future--in the days when
my doctrine is waning. For in days to come many greedy and shameless Brethren
shall arise, who for their belly's sake shall preach the very words in which I
inveighed against greed! Because they have deserted by reason of their belly and
have taken their stand on the side of the sectaries 1, they shall fail to make
their preaching lead up to Nirvana. Nay, their only thought, as they preach,
shall be by fine words and sweet voices to induce men to give them costly
raiment and the like, and to be minded to give such gifts. Others again seated
in the highways, at the street-corners, at the doors of kings' palaces, and so
forth, shall stoop to preach for money, yea for mere coined kahāpanas,
half-kahāpanas, pādas, or māsakas! 2 And as they thus barter away for food or
raiment or for kahāpanas and half-kahāpanas my doctrine the worth whereof is
Nirvana, they shall be even as those who bartered away for soar buttermilk
precious sandal-wood worth 100,000 pieces. [341] Howbeit, you have nothing to
fear therefrom. Tell me your twelfth dream."
"Methought, sir, I saw empty pumpkins sinking in the water. What shall come of
it?"
"This dream also shall not have its fulfilment till the future, in the days of
unrighteous kings, when the world is perverted. For in those days shall kings
shew favour not to the scions of the nobility, but to the low-born only; and
these latter shall become great lords, whilst the nobles sink into poverty.
Alike in the royal presence, in the palace gates, in the council chamber, and in
the courts of justice, the words of the low-born alone (whom the empty pumpkins
typify) shall be stablished, as though they had sunk down till they rested on
the bottom. So too in the assemblies of the Brotherhood, in the greater and
lesser conclaves, and in enquiries regarding bowls, robes, lodging, and the
like,--the counsel only of the wicked and the vile shall be considered to have
saving power, not that of the modest Brethren. Thus everywhere it shall be as
when the empty pumpkins sank. Howbeit, you have Nothing to fear therefrom. Tell
me your thirteenth dream."
Hereupon the king said, "Methought, sir, I saw huge blocks of solid rock, as big
as houses, floating like ships upon the waters. What shall come of it?"
"This dream also shall not have its fulfilment before such times as those of
which I have spoken. For in those days unrighteous kings shall shew honour to
the low-born, who shall become great lords, whilst the nobles sink into poverty.
Not to the nobles, but to the upstarts alone shall respect be paid. In the royal
presence, in the council chamber, or in the courts of justice, the words of the
nobles learned in the law (and it is they whom the solid rocks typify) shall
drift idly by, and not sink deep into the hearts of men; when they speak, the
upstarts shall merely laugh them to scorn, saying, 'What is this these fellows
are saying?' So too in the assemblies of the Brethren, as afore said, men shall
not deem worthy of respect the excellent among the Brethren; the words of such
shall not sink deep, but drift idly by,--even as when the rocks floated upon the
waters. Howbeit, you have nothing to fear therefrom. Tell me your fourteenth
dream."
"Methought, sir, I saw tiny frogs, no bigger than minute flowerets, swiftly
pursuing huge black snakes, chopping them up like so many lotus-stalks and
gobbling them up. What shall come of this?"
p. 192
"This dream too shall not have its fulfilment till those days to come such as
those of which I have spoken, when the world is decaying. For then shall men's
passions be so strong, and their lusts so hot, that they shall be the thralls of
the very youngest of their wives for the time being, at whose sole disposal
shall be slaves and hired servants, oxen, buffalos and all cattle, gold and
silver, and everything that is in the house. Should the poor husband ask where
the money (say) or a robe is, at once he shall be told that it is where it is,
that he should mind his own business, and not be so inquisitive as to what is,
or is not, in her house. And therewithal in divers ways the wives with abuse and
goading taunts shall establish their dominion over their husbands, as over
slaves and bond-servants. [342] Thus shall it be like as when the tiny frogs, no
bigger than minute flowerets, gobbled up the big black snakes. Howbeit, you have
nothing to fear therefrom. Tell me your fifteenth dream."
"Methought, sir, I saw a village crow, in which dwelt the whole of the Ten
Vices, escorted by a retinue of those birds which, because of their golden
sheen, are called Royal Golden Mallards. What shall come of it?"
"This dream too shall not have its fulfilment till the future, till the reign of
weakling kings. In days to come kings shall arise who shall know nothing about
elephants or other arts, and shall be cowards in the field. Fearing to be
deposed and cast from their royal estate, they shall raise to power not their
peers but their footmen, bath-attendants, barbers, and such like. Thus, shut out
from royal favour and unable to support themselves, the nobles shall be reduced
to dancing attendance on the upstarts,--as when the crow had Royal Golden
Mallards for a retinue. Howbeit, you have nothing to fear therefrom. Tell me
your sixteenth dream."
"Heretofore, sir, it always used to be panthers that preyed on goats; but
methought I saw goats chasing panthers and devouring them--munch, munch,
munch!--whilst at bare sight of the goats afar off, terror-stricken wolves fled
quaking with fear and hid themselves in their fastnesses in the thicket 1. Such
was my dream. What shall come of it?"
"This dream too shall not have its fulfilment till the future, till the reign of
unrighteous kings. In those days the low-born shall be raised to lordship and be
made royal favourites, whilst the nobles shall sink into obscurity and distress.
Gaining influence in the courts of law because of their favour with the king,
these upstarts shall claim perforce the ancestral estates, the raiment, and all
the property of the old nobility. And-when these latter plead their rights
before the courts, then shall the king's minions have them cudgelled and
bastinadoed and taken by the throat and cast out with words of scorn, such
as:--'Know your place, fools! What? do you dispute with us? The king shall know
of your insolence, and we will have your hands and feet chopped off and other
correctives applied!' Hereupon the terrified nobles shall affirm that their own
belongings really belong to the overbearing upstarts, and will tell the
favourites to accept them. And they shall hie them home and there cower in an
agony of fear. Likewise, evil Brethren shall harry at pleasure good and worthy
Brethren, till these latter, finding none to help them, shall flee to the
jungle. And this oppression of the nobles and of the good Brethren by the
low-born and by the evil brethren, shall be like the scaring of wolves by goats.
Howbeit, you have nothing to fear therefrom. For this dream too has reference to
future times only. [343] It was not truth, it was not love for you, that
prompted the brahmins to prophesy as they did. No, it was greed of gain, and the
insight that is bred of covetousness, that shaped all their self-seeking
utterances."
Thus did the Master expound the import of these sixteen great dreams,
adding,--"You, sire, are not the first to have these dreams; they were dreamed
by kings of bygone days also; and, then as now, the brahmins found in them a
pretext for sacrifices; whereupon, at the instance of the wise and good, the
Bodhisatta was consulted, and the dreams were expounded by them of old time
p. 193
in just the same manner as they have now been expounded." And so saying, at the
king's request, he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
a brahmin in the North country. When he came to years of discretion he renounced
the world for a hermit's life; he won the higher Knowledges and the Attainments,
and dwelt in the Himalaya country in the bliss that comes from Insight.
In those days, in just the same manner, Brahmadatta dreamed these dreams at
Benares, and enquired of the brahmins concerning them. And the brahmins, then as
now, set to work at sacrifices. Amongst them was a young brahmin of learning and
wisdom, a pupil of the king's chaplain, who addressed his master thus:--"Master,
you have taught me the Three Vedas. Is there not therein a text that says 'The
slaying of one creature giveth not life to another'?" "My son, this means money
to us, a great deal of money. You only seem anxious to spare the king's
treasury!" "Do as you will, master," said the young brahmin; "as for me, to what
end shall I tarry longer here with you?" And so saying, he left him, and betook
himself to the royal pleasaunce.
That selfsame day the Bodhisatta, knowing all this, thought to himself: "If I
visit to-day the haunts of men, I shall work the deliverance of a great
multitude from their bondage." So, passing through the air, he alighted in the
royal pleasaunce and seated himself, radiant as a statue of gold, upon the
Ceremonial Stone. The young brahmin drew near and with due obeisance seated
himself by the Bodhisatta in all friendliness. Sweet converse passed; and the
Bodhisatta asked whether the young brahmin thought the king ruled righteously.
"Sir," answered the young man, "the king is righteous himself; but the brahmins
make him side with evil. Being consulted by the king as to sixteen dreams which
he had dreamed, the brahmins clutched at the opportunity for sacrifices [344]
and set to work thereon. Oh, sir, would it not be a good thing that you should
offer to make known to the king the real import of his dreams and so deliver
great numbers of creatures from their dread?" "But, my son, I do not know the
king, nor he me. Still, if he should cone here and ask me, I will tell him." "I
will bring the king, sir," said the young brahmin; "if you will only be so good
as to wait here a minute till I come back." And having gained the Bodhisatta's
consent, he went before the king, and said that there had alighted in the royal
pleasaunce an air-travelling ascetic, who said he would expound the king's
dreams; would not his majesty relate them to this ascetic?
When the king heard this, he repaired at once to the pleasaunce with a large
retinue. Saluting the ascetic, he sat down by the holy man's
p. 194
side, and asked whether it was true that he knew what would come of his dreams.
"Certainly, sire," said the Bodhisatta; "but first let me hear the dreams as you
dreamed them." "Readily, sir," answered the king; and he began as follows:--
Bulls first, and trees, and cows, and calves,
Horse, dish, she-jackal, waterpot,
A pond, raw rice, and sandal-wood,
And gourds that sank, and stones that swam,
and so forth, ending up with
And wolves in panic-fear of goats.
[paragraph continues] And his majesty went on to tell his dreams in just the
same manner as that in which King Pasenadi had described them. [345]
"Enough," said the Great Being; "you have nothing to fear or dread from all
this." Having thus reassured the king, and having freed a great multitude from
bondage, the Bodhisatta again took up his position in mid-air, whence he
exhorted the king and established him in the Five Commandments, ending with
these words:--"Henceforth, O king, join not with the brahmins in slaughtering
animals for sacrifice." His teaching ended, the Bodhisatta passed straight
through the air to his own abode. And the king, remaining stedfast in the
teaching he had heard, passed away after a life of alms-giving and other good
works to fare according to his deserts.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master said, "You have nothing to fear from these dreams;
away with the sacrifice!" Having had the sacrifice removed, and having saved the
lives of a multitude of creatures, he shewed the connexion and identified the
Birth by saying, "Ānanda was the king of those days, Sāriputta the young
Brahmin, and I the ascetic."
(Pāli note. But after the passing of the Blessed One, the Editors of the Great
Redaction put the three first lines into the Commentary, and making the lines
from 'And gourds that sank' into one Stanza (therewith) 1, put the whole story
into the First Book.)
[Note. Cf. Sacy's Kalilah and Dimnah, chapter 14; Benfey's Pañcatantra § 225;
JṚ.AṢ. for 1893 page 509; and Rouse ('A Jātaka in Pausanias') in 'Folklore' i.
409 (1890).]
Footnotes
188:1 See Mahā-Vīra-Carita, p. 13, Mahābhārata II. 2196.
189:1 Cf. the story of Ocnus in Pausanias x. 29.
191:1 Reading titthakarānaṁ pakkhe, as conjectured by Fausböll.
191:2 See Vinaya II. 294 for the same list; and see page 6 of Rhys Davids'
"Ancient Coins and Measures of Ceylon" in Numismata Orientalia (Trübner).
192:1 Here the Pāli interpolates the irrelevant remark that "the word hi is
nothing more than a particle."
194:1 I am not at all sure that this is the correct translation of this
difficult and corrupt passage.
Next: No. 78. Illīsa-Jātaka
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