Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 109. Kuṇḍakapūva-Jātaka
No. 109.
KUṆḌAKAPŪVA-JĀTAKA.
"As fares his worshipper."--This story was told by the Master when at Sāvatthi,
about a very poor man.
Now at Sāvatthi the Brotherhood with the Buddha at their head used to be
entertained now by a single family, now by three or four families together. Or a
body of people or a whole street would club together, or sometimes the whole
city entertained them. But on the occasion now in question it was a street that
was skewing the hospitality. And the inhabitants had arranged to provide
rice-gruel followed by cakes.
Now in that street there lived a very poor man, a hired labourer, who could not
see how he could give the gruel, but resolved to give cakes. And he scraped out
the red powder from empty husks and kneaded it with water into a round cake.
This cake he wrapped in a leaf of swallow-wort, and baked it in the embers. When
it was done, he made up his mind that none but the Buddha should have it, and
accordingly took his stand immediately by the Master. No sooner had the word
been given to offer cakes, than he stepped forward quicker than anyone else and
put his cake in the Master's alms-bowl. And the Master declined all other cakes
offered him and ate the poor man's cake. Forthwith the whole city talked of
nothing but how the All-Enlightened One had not disdained to eat the poor roan's
bran-cake. And from porters to nobles and King, all classes flocked to the spot,
saluted the Master, and crowded round the poor man,
p. 253
offering him food, or two to five hundred pieces of money if he would make over
to them the merit of his act.
Thinking he had better ask the Master first, he went to him and stated his case.
"Take what they offer," said the Master, "and impute your righteousness to all
living creatures." So the man set to work to collect the offerings. Some gave
twice as much as others, some four times as much, others eight times as much,
and so on, till nine crores of gold were contributed.
Returning thanks for the hospitality, the Master went back to the monastery and
after instructing the Brethren and imparting his blessed teaching to them,
retired to his perfumed chamber.
In the evening the King sent for the poor man, and created him Lord Treasurer.
Assembling in the Hall of Truth the Brethren spoke together of how the Master,
not disdaining the poor man's bran-cake, had eaten it as though it were
ambrosia, and how the poor man had been enriched [423] and made Lord Treasurer
to his great good fortune. And when the Master entered the Hall and heard what
they were talking of, he said, "Brethren, this is not the first time that I have
not disdained to eat that poor man's cake of bran. I did the same when I was a
Tree-sprite, and then too was the means of his being made Lord Treasurer." So
saying he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was a
Tree-sprite dwelling in a castor-oil plant. And the villagers of those days were
superstitious about gods. A festival came round and the villagers offered
sacrifices to their respective Tree-sprites. Seeing this, a poor man shewed
worship to the castor-oil tree. All the others had come with garlands, odours,
perfumes, and cakes; but the poor man had only a cake of husk-powder and water
in a cocoanut shell for his tree. Standing before it, he thought within himself,
"Tree-sprites are used to heavenly food, and my Tree-sprite will not eat this
cake of husk-powder. Why then should I lose it outright? I will eat it myself."
And he turned to go away, when the Bodhisatta from the fork of his tree
exclaimed, "My good man, if you were a great lord you would bring me dainty
manchets; but as you are a poor man, what shall I have to eat if not that cake?
Rob me not of my portion." And he uttered this stanza:--
As fares his worshipper, a Sprite must fare.
Bring me the cake, nor rob me of my share.
Then the man turned again, and, seeing the Bodhisatta, offered up his sacrifice.
The Bodhisatta fed on the savour and said, "Why do you worship me?" "I am a poor
man, my lord, and I worship you to be eased of my poverty." [424] "Have no more
care for that. You have sacrificed to one who is grateful and mindful of kindly
deeds. Round this tree, neck to neck, are buried pots of treasure. Go tell the
King, and take the treasure away in waggons to the King's courtyard. There pile
it in a heap, and the King shall be so well-pleased that he will make you Lord
Treasurer." So saying, the Bodhisatta vanished from sight. The
p. 254
man did as he was bidden, and the King made him Lord Treasurer. Thus did the
poor man by aid of the Bodhisatta come to great fortune; and when he died, he
passed away to fare according to his deserts.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "The poor man of
to-day was also the poor man of those times, and I the Tree-sprite who dwelt in
the castor-oil tree."
Next: No. 110. Sabbasaṁhāraka-Pañha
Showing posts with label Ekanipata. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ekanipata. Show all posts
Monday, May 16, 2011
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Bahiya Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 108. Bāhiya-Jātaka
No. 108.
BĀHIYA-JĀTAKA.
"Learn thou betimes."--This story was told by the Master, while he was dwelling
in the Gabled Chamber at the Great Grove near Vesāli, about a Licchavi, a pious
prince who had embraced the Truth. He had invited the Brotherhood with the
Buddha at their head to his house, and there had shewn great bounty towards
them. Now his wife was a very fat woman, almost bloated in appearance, and she
was badly dressed.
Thanking the King for his hospitality, the Master returned to the monastery and,
after a discourse to the Brethren, retired to his perfumed chamber.
Assembled in the Hall of Truth, the Brethren expressed their surprise that a man
like this Licchavi prince should have such a fat badly-dressed woman for his
wife, and be so fond of her. Entering the Hall and hearing what they were
discussing, the Master said, "Brethren, as now, so in former times he was fond
of a fat woman." Then, at their request, he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
[421] Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta
was one of his courtiers. And a fat and badly-dressed country woman, who worked
for hire, was passing near the courtyard of the palace, when pressing need for
an occasion came upon her. Bending down with her raiment decently gathered round
her, she accomplished her purpose, and was erect again in a trice.
The King chanced to be looking out on to the courtyard through a window at the
time and saw this. Thought he, "A woman who could manage this with so much
decency must enjoy good health. She would be sure to be cleanly in her house;
and a son born into a cleanly house would be sure to grow up cleanly and
virtuous. I will make her my queen-consort." And accordingly the King, first
assuring himself that she
p. 252
was not another's, sent for her and made her his queen. And she became very near
and dear to him. Not long afterwards a son was born, and this son became an
Universal Monarch.
Observing her fortunes, the Bodhisatta took occasion to say to the King, "Sire,
why should not care be taken duly to fulfil all proper observances, when this
excellent woman by her modesty and decency in relieving nature won your
majesty's favour and rose to such fortune?" And he went on to utter this
stanza:--
Learn thou betimes, though headstrong folk there be;
The rustic pleased the King by modesty.
Thus did the Great Being commend the virtues of those who devoted themselves to
the study of proper observances.
_____________________________
[422] His story ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "The husband
and wife of to-day were also the husband and wife of those times, and I the wise
courtier."
Next: No. 109. Kuṇḍakapūva-Jātaka
No. 108.
BĀHIYA-JĀTAKA.
"Learn thou betimes."--This story was told by the Master, while he was dwelling
in the Gabled Chamber at the Great Grove near Vesāli, about a Licchavi, a pious
prince who had embraced the Truth. He had invited the Brotherhood with the
Buddha at their head to his house, and there had shewn great bounty towards
them. Now his wife was a very fat woman, almost bloated in appearance, and she
was badly dressed.
Thanking the King for his hospitality, the Master returned to the monastery and,
after a discourse to the Brethren, retired to his perfumed chamber.
Assembled in the Hall of Truth, the Brethren expressed their surprise that a man
like this Licchavi prince should have such a fat badly-dressed woman for his
wife, and be so fond of her. Entering the Hall and hearing what they were
discussing, the Master said, "Brethren, as now, so in former times he was fond
of a fat woman." Then, at their request, he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
[421] Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta
was one of his courtiers. And a fat and badly-dressed country woman, who worked
for hire, was passing near the courtyard of the palace, when pressing need for
an occasion came upon her. Bending down with her raiment decently gathered round
her, she accomplished her purpose, and was erect again in a trice.
The King chanced to be looking out on to the courtyard through a window at the
time and saw this. Thought he, "A woman who could manage this with so much
decency must enjoy good health. She would be sure to be cleanly in her house;
and a son born into a cleanly house would be sure to grow up cleanly and
virtuous. I will make her my queen-consort." And accordingly the King, first
assuring himself that she
p. 252
was not another's, sent for her and made her his queen. And she became very near
and dear to him. Not long afterwards a son was born, and this son became an
Universal Monarch.
Observing her fortunes, the Bodhisatta took occasion to say to the King, "Sire,
why should not care be taken duly to fulfil all proper observances, when this
excellent woman by her modesty and decency in relieving nature won your
majesty's favour and rose to such fortune?" And he went on to utter this
stanza:--
Learn thou betimes, though headstrong folk there be;
The rustic pleased the King by modesty.
Thus did the Great Being commend the virtues of those who devoted themselves to
the study of proper observances.
_____________________________
[422] His story ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "The husband
and wife of to-day were also the husband and wife of those times, and I the wise
courtier."
Next: No. 109. Kuṇḍakapūva-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Salittaka Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 107. Sālittaka-Jātaka
No. 107.
SĀLITTAKA-JĀTAKA.
[418] "Prize skill."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, about
a Brother who threw and hit a swan. We are told that this Brother, who came of a
good family in Sāvatthi, had acquired great skill in hitting things with stones;
and that hearing the Truth preached one day he gave his heart to it and, giving
up the world, was admitted to full Brotherhood. But neither in study nor
practice did he excel as a Brother. One day, with a youthful Brother, he went to
the river Aciravatī 1, and was standing on the hank after bathing, when he saw
two white swans flying by. Said he to the younger Brother, "I'll hit the hinder
swan in the eye and bring it down." "Bring it down indeed!" said the other; "you
can't hit it." "Just you wait a moment. I'll hit it on the eye this side through
the eye on the other." "Oh, nonsense." "Very well; you wait and see." Then he
took a three-cornered stone in his hand and flung it after the swan. 'Whiz' went
the stone through the air and the swan, suspecting danger, stopped to listen. At
once the Brother seized a smooth round stone and as the resting swan was looking
in another direction hit it full in the eye, so that the stone went in at one
eye and came out at the other. And with a loud scream the swan fell to the
ground at their feet. "That is a highly improper action," said the other
Brother, and brought him before the Master, with an account of what had
happened. After rebuking the Brother, the Master said, "The same skill was his,
Brethren, in past times as now." And he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was one
of the King's courtiers. And the royal chaplain of those days was so talkative
and longwinded that, when he once started, no
p. 250
one else could get a word in. So the King cast about for someone to cut the
chaplain short, and looked high and low for such an one. Now at that time there
was a cripple in Benares who was a wonderful marksman with stones, and the boys
used to put him on a little cart and [419] draw him to the gates of Benares,
where there is a large branching banyan-tree covered with leaves. There they
would gather round and give him half-pence, saying 'Make an elephant,' or 'Make
a horse.' And the cripple would throw stone after stone till he had cut the
foliage into the shapes asked for. And the ground was covered with fallen
leaves.
On his way to his pleasaunce the King came to, the spot, and all the boys
scampered off in fear of the King, leaving the cripple there helpless. At the
sight of the litter of leaves the King asked, as he rode by in his chariot, who
had cut the leaves off. And he was told that the cripple had done it. Thinking
that here might be a way to stop the chaplain's mouth, the King asked where the
cripple was, and was shewn him sitting at the foot of the tree. Then the King
had him brought to him and, motioning his retinue to stand apart, said to the
cripple, "I have a very talkative chaplain. Do you think you could stop his
talking?"
"Yes, sire,--if I had a peashooter full of dry goat's dung," said the cripple.
Then the King had him taken to the palace and set with a pea-shooter full of dry
goat's dung behind a curtain with a slit in it, facing the chaplain's seat. When
the brahmin came to wait upon the King and was seated on the seat prepared for
him, his majesty started a conversation. And the chaplain forthwith monopolized
the conversation, and no one else could get a word in. Hereon the cripple shot
the pellets of goat's dung one by one, like flies, through the slit in the
curtain right into the chaplain's gullet. And the brahmin swallowed the pellets
down as they came, like so much oil, till all had disappeared. When the whole
peashooter-full of pellets was lodged in the chaplain's stomach, they swelled to
the size of half a peck; and the King, knowing they were all gone, addressed the
brahmin in these words: "Reverend sir, so talkative are you, that you have
swallowed down a peashooter-full of goat's dung without noticing it. That's
about as much as you will be able to take at a sitting. Now go home and take a
dose of panick seed and water by way of emetic, and put yourself right again."
From that day [420] the chaplain kept his mouth shut and sat as silent during
conversation as though his lips were sealed.
"Well, my ears are indebted to the cripple for this relief," said the King, and
bestowed on him four villages, one in the North, one in the South, one in the
West, and one in the East, producing a hundred thousand a year.
The Bodhisatta drew near to the King and said, "In this world, sire,
p. 251
skill should be cultivated by the wise. Mere skill in aiming has brought this
cripple all this prosperity." So saying he uttered this stanza:--
Prize skill, and note the marksman lame;
--Four villages reward his aim.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "This Brother was
the cripple of those days, Ānanda the King, and I the wise courtier."
Footnotes
249:1 The modern Rāpti, in Oudh.
Next: No. 108. Bāhiya-Jātaka
No. 107.
SĀLITTAKA-JĀTAKA.
[418] "Prize skill."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, about
a Brother who threw and hit a swan. We are told that this Brother, who came of a
good family in Sāvatthi, had acquired great skill in hitting things with stones;
and that hearing the Truth preached one day he gave his heart to it and, giving
up the world, was admitted to full Brotherhood. But neither in study nor
practice did he excel as a Brother. One day, with a youthful Brother, he went to
the river Aciravatī 1, and was standing on the hank after bathing, when he saw
two white swans flying by. Said he to the younger Brother, "I'll hit the hinder
swan in the eye and bring it down." "Bring it down indeed!" said the other; "you
can't hit it." "Just you wait a moment. I'll hit it on the eye this side through
the eye on the other." "Oh, nonsense." "Very well; you wait and see." Then he
took a three-cornered stone in his hand and flung it after the swan. 'Whiz' went
the stone through the air and the swan, suspecting danger, stopped to listen. At
once the Brother seized a smooth round stone and as the resting swan was looking
in another direction hit it full in the eye, so that the stone went in at one
eye and came out at the other. And with a loud scream the swan fell to the
ground at their feet. "That is a highly improper action," said the other
Brother, and brought him before the Master, with an account of what had
happened. After rebuking the Brother, the Master said, "The same skill was his,
Brethren, in past times as now." And he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was one
of the King's courtiers. And the royal chaplain of those days was so talkative
and longwinded that, when he once started, no
p. 250
one else could get a word in. So the King cast about for someone to cut the
chaplain short, and looked high and low for such an one. Now at that time there
was a cripple in Benares who was a wonderful marksman with stones, and the boys
used to put him on a little cart and [419] draw him to the gates of Benares,
where there is a large branching banyan-tree covered with leaves. There they
would gather round and give him half-pence, saying 'Make an elephant,' or 'Make
a horse.' And the cripple would throw stone after stone till he had cut the
foliage into the shapes asked for. And the ground was covered with fallen
leaves.
On his way to his pleasaunce the King came to, the spot, and all the boys
scampered off in fear of the King, leaving the cripple there helpless. At the
sight of the litter of leaves the King asked, as he rode by in his chariot, who
had cut the leaves off. And he was told that the cripple had done it. Thinking
that here might be a way to stop the chaplain's mouth, the King asked where the
cripple was, and was shewn him sitting at the foot of the tree. Then the King
had him brought to him and, motioning his retinue to stand apart, said to the
cripple, "I have a very talkative chaplain. Do you think you could stop his
talking?"
"Yes, sire,--if I had a peashooter full of dry goat's dung," said the cripple.
Then the King had him taken to the palace and set with a pea-shooter full of dry
goat's dung behind a curtain with a slit in it, facing the chaplain's seat. When
the brahmin came to wait upon the King and was seated on the seat prepared for
him, his majesty started a conversation. And the chaplain forthwith monopolized
the conversation, and no one else could get a word in. Hereon the cripple shot
the pellets of goat's dung one by one, like flies, through the slit in the
curtain right into the chaplain's gullet. And the brahmin swallowed the pellets
down as they came, like so much oil, till all had disappeared. When the whole
peashooter-full of pellets was lodged in the chaplain's stomach, they swelled to
the size of half a peck; and the King, knowing they were all gone, addressed the
brahmin in these words: "Reverend sir, so talkative are you, that you have
swallowed down a peashooter-full of goat's dung without noticing it. That's
about as much as you will be able to take at a sitting. Now go home and take a
dose of panick seed and water by way of emetic, and put yourself right again."
From that day [420] the chaplain kept his mouth shut and sat as silent during
conversation as though his lips were sealed.
"Well, my ears are indebted to the cripple for this relief," said the King, and
bestowed on him four villages, one in the North, one in the South, one in the
West, and one in the East, producing a hundred thousand a year.
The Bodhisatta drew near to the King and said, "In this world, sire,
p. 251
skill should be cultivated by the wise. Mere skill in aiming has brought this
cripple all this prosperity." So saying he uttered this stanza:--
Prize skill, and note the marksman lame;
--Four villages reward his aim.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "This Brother was
the cripple of those days, Ānanda the King, and I the wise courtier."
Footnotes
249:1 The modern Rāpti, in Oudh.
Next: No. 108. Bāhiya-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Udancani Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 106. Udañcani-Jātaka
p. 248
No. 106.
UDAÑCANI-JĀTAKA.
"A happy life was mine."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana,
about a temptation by a fat girl. The incident will be related in the
Culla-Nārada-Kassapa Jātaka 1 in the Thirteenth Book.
On asking the Brother, the Master was told that it was true he was in love, and
in love with the fat girl. "Brother," said the Master, "she is leading you
astray. So too in times gone by she led you into evil, and you were only
restored to happiness by the wise and good of those days." So saying, he told
this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, those things came to
pass which will be told in the Culla-Nārada-Kassapa Jātaka. But on this occasion
the Bodhisatta at evening came with fruits to the hermitage, and, opening the
door, said to his son, "Every other day you brought wood and victuals, and lit a
fire. Why have you not done any of these things to-day, but sit sadly here
pining away?"
"Father," said the young man, "while you were away gathering fruits, there came
a woman who tried to lure me away with blandishments. But I would not go with
her till I had your leave, and so left her sitting waiting for me. And now my
wish is to depart."
Finding that the young man was too much in love to be able to give her up, the
Bodhisatta bade him go, saying "But when she wants meat [417] or fish or ghee or
salt or ride or any such thing to eat, and sends you hurrying to and fro on her
errands, then remember this hermitage and flee away back to me."
So the other went off with the woman to the haunts of men; and when he was come
to her house, she made him run about to fetch every single thing she wanted.
"I might just as well be her slave as this," thought he, and promptly ran away
back to his father, and saluting him, stood and repeated this stanza:--
A happy life was mine till that fell she,
--That worrying, tiresome pitcher styled my wife--
Set me to run the errands of her whims.
And the Bodhisatta commended the young man, and exhorted him to kindliness and
mercy, setting forth the four forms of right feeling towards
p. 249
men and the modes of ensuring Insight. Nor was it long before the young man won
the Knowledges and Attainments, and attained to right feeling towards his
fellow-creatures, and with his father was re-born into the Brahma Realm.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, and the Four Truths preached (at the close whereof that
Brother entered the First Path) the Master identified the Birth by saying, "The
fat girl of to-day was also the fat girl of those days; this yoking Brother was
the son; and I the father of those days."
Footnotes
248:1 No. 477.
Next: No. 107. Sālittaka-Jātaka
p. 248
No. 106.
UDAÑCANI-JĀTAKA.
"A happy life was mine."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana,
about a temptation by a fat girl. The incident will be related in the
Culla-Nārada-Kassapa Jātaka 1 in the Thirteenth Book.
On asking the Brother, the Master was told that it was true he was in love, and
in love with the fat girl. "Brother," said the Master, "she is leading you
astray. So too in times gone by she led you into evil, and you were only
restored to happiness by the wise and good of those days." So saying, he told
this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, those things came to
pass which will be told in the Culla-Nārada-Kassapa Jātaka. But on this occasion
the Bodhisatta at evening came with fruits to the hermitage, and, opening the
door, said to his son, "Every other day you brought wood and victuals, and lit a
fire. Why have you not done any of these things to-day, but sit sadly here
pining away?"
"Father," said the young man, "while you were away gathering fruits, there came
a woman who tried to lure me away with blandishments. But I would not go with
her till I had your leave, and so left her sitting waiting for me. And now my
wish is to depart."
Finding that the young man was too much in love to be able to give her up, the
Bodhisatta bade him go, saying "But when she wants meat [417] or fish or ghee or
salt or ride or any such thing to eat, and sends you hurrying to and fro on her
errands, then remember this hermitage and flee away back to me."
So the other went off with the woman to the haunts of men; and when he was come
to her house, she made him run about to fetch every single thing she wanted.
"I might just as well be her slave as this," thought he, and promptly ran away
back to his father, and saluting him, stood and repeated this stanza:--
A happy life was mine till that fell she,
--That worrying, tiresome pitcher styled my wife--
Set me to run the errands of her whims.
And the Bodhisatta commended the young man, and exhorted him to kindliness and
mercy, setting forth the four forms of right feeling towards
p. 249
men and the modes of ensuring Insight. Nor was it long before the young man won
the Knowledges and Attainments, and attained to right feeling towards his
fellow-creatures, and with his father was re-born into the Brahma Realm.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, and the Four Truths preached (at the close whereof that
Brother entered the First Path) the Master identified the Birth by saying, "The
fat girl of to-day was also the fat girl of those days; this yoking Brother was
the son; and I the father of those days."
Footnotes
248:1 No. 477.
Next: No. 107. Sālittaka-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Dubbalakattha Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 105. Dubbalakaṭṭha-Jātaka
No. 105.
DUBBALAKAṬṬHA-JĀTAKA.
"Fear’st thou the wind."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana,
about a Brother who lived in a perpetual state of nervous alarm. We learn that
he came of a good family in Sāvatthi, and was led to give up the world by
hearing the Truth preached, and that he was always in fear of his life
p. 247
both by night and by day. The sough of the wind, the rustle of a fan, or the cry
of bird or beast would inspire him with such abject terror that he would shriek
and dash away. He never reflected that death was sure to come upon him; though,
had he practised meditation on the certainty of death, he would not have feared
it. [415] For only they that do not so meditate fear death. Now his constant
fear of dying became known to the Brethren, and one day they met in the Hall of
Truth and fell to discussing his fearfulness and the propriety of every
Brother's taking death as a theme for meditation. Entering the Hall, the Master
asked, and was told, what they were discussing. So he sent for that Brother and
asked him whether it was true he lived in fear of death. The Brother confessed
that he did. "Be not angry, Brethren," said the Master, "with this Brother. The
fear of death that fills his breast, now was no less strong in bygone times." So
saying he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was a
Tree-Sprite near the Himalayas. And in those days the king put his state
elephant in the elephant-trainers' hands to be broken in to stand firm. And they
tied the elephant up fast to a post, and with goads in their hands set about
training the animal. Unable to bear the pain whilst he was being made to do
their bidding, the elephant broke the post down, put the trainers to flight, and
made off to the Himalayas. And the men, being unable to catch it, had to come
back empty-handed. The elephant lived in the Himalayas in constant fear of
death. A breath of wind sufficed to fill him with fear and to start him off at
full speed, shaking his trunk to and fro. And it was with him as though he was
still tied to the post to be trained. All happiness of mind and body gone, he
wandered up and down in constant dread. Seeing this, the Tree-Sprite stood in
the fork of his tree and uttered this stanza:--
Fear'st thou the wind that ceaselessly
The rotten boughs doth rend alway?
Such fear will waste thee quite away!
[416] Such were the Tree-Sprite's cheering words. And the elephant thenceforth
feared no more.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master taught the Four Truths (at the close whereof the
Brother entered the Paths), and identified the Birth by saying, "This Brother
was the elephant of those days and I the Tree-Sprite."
Next: No. 106. Udañcani-Jātaka
No. 105.
DUBBALAKAṬṬHA-JĀTAKA.
"Fear’st thou the wind."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana,
about a Brother who lived in a perpetual state of nervous alarm. We learn that
he came of a good family in Sāvatthi, and was led to give up the world by
hearing the Truth preached, and that he was always in fear of his life
p. 247
both by night and by day. The sough of the wind, the rustle of a fan, or the cry
of bird or beast would inspire him with such abject terror that he would shriek
and dash away. He never reflected that death was sure to come upon him; though,
had he practised meditation on the certainty of death, he would not have feared
it. [415] For only they that do not so meditate fear death. Now his constant
fear of dying became known to the Brethren, and one day they met in the Hall of
Truth and fell to discussing his fearfulness and the propriety of every
Brother's taking death as a theme for meditation. Entering the Hall, the Master
asked, and was told, what they were discussing. So he sent for that Brother and
asked him whether it was true he lived in fear of death. The Brother confessed
that he did. "Be not angry, Brethren," said the Master, "with this Brother. The
fear of death that fills his breast, now was no less strong in bygone times." So
saying he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was a
Tree-Sprite near the Himalayas. And in those days the king put his state
elephant in the elephant-trainers' hands to be broken in to stand firm. And they
tied the elephant up fast to a post, and with goads in their hands set about
training the animal. Unable to bear the pain whilst he was being made to do
their bidding, the elephant broke the post down, put the trainers to flight, and
made off to the Himalayas. And the men, being unable to catch it, had to come
back empty-handed. The elephant lived in the Himalayas in constant fear of
death. A breath of wind sufficed to fill him with fear and to start him off at
full speed, shaking his trunk to and fro. And it was with him as though he was
still tied to the post to be trained. All happiness of mind and body gone, he
wandered up and down in constant dread. Seeing this, the Tree-Sprite stood in
the fork of his tree and uttered this stanza:--
Fear'st thou the wind that ceaselessly
The rotten boughs doth rend alway?
Such fear will waste thee quite away!
[416] Such were the Tree-Sprite's cheering words. And the elephant thenceforth
feared no more.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master taught the Four Truths (at the close whereof the
Brother entered the Paths), and identified the Birth by saying, "This Brother
was the elephant of those days and I the Tree-Sprite."
Next: No. 106. Udañcani-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Mittavinda Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 104. Mittavinda-Jātaka
p. 246
No. 104.
MITTAVINDA-JĀTAKA.
"From four to eight."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana,
concerning an unruly Brother. The incidents are the same as those in the
previous story of Mittavindaka 1, but belong to the days of the Buddha Kassapa.
_____________________________
[414] Now at that time one of the damned who had put on the circlet and was
suffering the tortures of hell, asked the Bodhisatta--"Lord, what sin have I
committed?" The Bodhisatta detailed the man's evil deeds to hire and uttered
this stanza:--
From four to eight, to sixteen thence, and so
To thirty-two insatiate greed doth go,
--Still pressing on till insatiety
Doth win the circlet's griding misery 2.
So saying he went back to the Realm of Devas, but the other abode in hell till
his sin had been purged from him. Then he passed thence to fare according to his
deserts.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "This unruly
Brother was then Mittavindaka and I the Deva."
Footnotes
246:1 No. 41.
246:2 Part of these lines occur in the Pañca Tantra 98.
Next: No. 105. Dubbalakaṭṭha-Jātaka
p. 246
No. 104.
MITTAVINDA-JĀTAKA.
"From four to eight."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana,
concerning an unruly Brother. The incidents are the same as those in the
previous story of Mittavindaka 1, but belong to the days of the Buddha Kassapa.
_____________________________
[414] Now at that time one of the damned who had put on the circlet and was
suffering the tortures of hell, asked the Bodhisatta--"Lord, what sin have I
committed?" The Bodhisatta detailed the man's evil deeds to hire and uttered
this stanza:--
From four to eight, to sixteen thence, and so
To thirty-two insatiate greed doth go,
--Still pressing on till insatiety
Doth win the circlet's griding misery 2.
So saying he went back to the Realm of Devas, but the other abode in hell till
his sin had been purged from him. Then he passed thence to fare according to his
deserts.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "This unruly
Brother was then Mittavindaka and I the Deva."
Footnotes
246:1 No. 41.
246:2 Part of these lines occur in the Pañca Tantra 98.
Next: No. 105. Dubbalakaṭṭha-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Veri Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 103. Veri-Jātaka
No. 103.
VERI-JĀTAKA.
"If wise, thou ’lt loiter not."--This story was told by the Master at Jetavana
about Anātha-piṇḍika. For we hear that Anātha-piṇḍika was returning from the
village of which he was headman, when he saw robbers on the road. "It won't do
to loiter by the way," thought he; "I must hurry on to Sāvatthi." So he urged
his oxen to speed [413] and got safely into Sāvatthi. Next day he went to the
monastery and told the Master what had befallen him. "Sir," said the Master, "in
other times too the wise and good espied robbers on the road and hastened
without delay to their homes." Then at the merchant's request he told this story
of the past.
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was a
rich merchant, who had been to a village to collect his dues and was on his
homeward way when he saw robbers on the road. At once he urged his oxen to their
topmost speed and reached home in safety. And as he sat on his couch of state
after a rich repast, he exclaimed, "I have escaped from the robbers' hand to
mine own house, where fear dwells not." And in his thankfulness he uttered this
stanza:--
If wise, thou 'lt loiter not 'mid enemies;
A night or two with such brings miseries.
So, from the fulness of his heart, spake the Bodhisatta, and after a life of
charity and other good deeds he passed away to fare according to his deserts.
_____________________________
His story ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "I was the merchant
of Benares of those days."
Next: No. 104. Mittavinda-Jātaka
No. 103.
VERI-JĀTAKA.
"If wise, thou ’lt loiter not."--This story was told by the Master at Jetavana
about Anātha-piṇḍika. For we hear that Anātha-piṇḍika was returning from the
village of which he was headman, when he saw robbers on the road. "It won't do
to loiter by the way," thought he; "I must hurry on to Sāvatthi." So he urged
his oxen to speed [413] and got safely into Sāvatthi. Next day he went to the
monastery and told the Master what had befallen him. "Sir," said the Master, "in
other times too the wise and good espied robbers on the road and hastened
without delay to their homes." Then at the merchant's request he told this story
of the past.
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was a
rich merchant, who had been to a village to collect his dues and was on his
homeward way when he saw robbers on the road. At once he urged his oxen to their
topmost speed and reached home in safety. And as he sat on his couch of state
after a rich repast, he exclaimed, "I have escaped from the robbers' hand to
mine own house, where fear dwells not." And in his thankfulness he uttered this
stanza:--
If wise, thou 'lt loiter not 'mid enemies;
A night or two with such brings miseries.
So, from the fulness of his heart, spake the Bodhisatta, and after a life of
charity and other good deeds he passed away to fare according to his deserts.
_____________________________
His story ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "I was the merchant
of Benares of those days."
Next: No. 104. Mittavinda-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Pannika Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 102. Paṇṇika-Jātaka
p. 244
No. 102.
PAṆṆIKA-JĀTAKA.
"He that should prove."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana,
about a lay-brother who was a greengrocer in Sāvatthi and made a living by the
sale of various roots and vegetables, and pumpkins and the like. Now he had a
pretty daughter who was as good and virtuous as she was pretty, but was always
laughing. And when she was asked in marriage by a family of his own station in
life, he thought "She ought to be married, but she's always laughing; and a bad
girl married into a strange family is her parents' shame. I must find out for
certain whether she is a good girl or not."
So one day he made his daughter take a basket and come with him to the forest to
gather herbs. Then to try her, he took her by the hand with whispered words of
love. Straightway the girl burst into tears and began to cry out that such a
thing would be as monstrous as fire rising out of water, and she besought him to
forbear. Then he told her that his only intent was to try her, and asked whether
she was virtuous. And she declared that she was and that she had never looked on
any man with eyes of love. Calming her fears and taking her back home, he made a
feast and gave her in marriage. Then feeling that he ought to go and pay his
respects to the Master, he took perfumes and garlands in his hand and went to
Jetavana. His salutations done and offerings made, he seated himself near the
Master, who observed that it was a long time since his last coming. Then the man
told the Blessed One the whole story.
"She has always been a good girl," said the Master. "You have put her to the
test now just as you did in days gone by." Then at the greengrocer's request he
told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares [412], the Bodhisatta
was a Tree-Sprite in a forest. And a lay-follower who was a greengrocer of
Benares had just the sane doubts of his daughter, and all fell out as in the
introductory story. And as her father took hold of her hand the weeping girl
repeated these verses:--
He that should prove my buckler strong,
My father, worketh me this wrong.
Forlorn in thickest wood I cry;
My helper proves my enemy.
Then her father calmed her fears, and asked whether she was a virgin. And when
she declared that she was, he brought her home and made a feast and gave the
girl in marriage.
_____________________________
p. 245
His story ended, the Master preached the Four Truths, at the close whereof the
greengrocer was established in the First Path of Salvation. Then the faster
identified the Birth by saying, "The father and daughter of to-day were the
father and daughter in the story, and I the Tree-Sprite who witnessed the
scene."
[Note. Cf. No. 217.]
Next: No. 103. Veri-Jātaka
p. 244
No. 102.
PAṆṆIKA-JĀTAKA.
"He that should prove."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana,
about a lay-brother who was a greengrocer in Sāvatthi and made a living by the
sale of various roots and vegetables, and pumpkins and the like. Now he had a
pretty daughter who was as good and virtuous as she was pretty, but was always
laughing. And when she was asked in marriage by a family of his own station in
life, he thought "She ought to be married, but she's always laughing; and a bad
girl married into a strange family is her parents' shame. I must find out for
certain whether she is a good girl or not."
So one day he made his daughter take a basket and come with him to the forest to
gather herbs. Then to try her, he took her by the hand with whispered words of
love. Straightway the girl burst into tears and began to cry out that such a
thing would be as monstrous as fire rising out of water, and she besought him to
forbear. Then he told her that his only intent was to try her, and asked whether
she was virtuous. And she declared that she was and that she had never looked on
any man with eyes of love. Calming her fears and taking her back home, he made a
feast and gave her in marriage. Then feeling that he ought to go and pay his
respects to the Master, he took perfumes and garlands in his hand and went to
Jetavana. His salutations done and offerings made, he seated himself near the
Master, who observed that it was a long time since his last coming. Then the man
told the Blessed One the whole story.
"She has always been a good girl," said the Master. "You have put her to the
test now just as you did in days gone by." Then at the greengrocer's request he
told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares [412], the Bodhisatta
was a Tree-Sprite in a forest. And a lay-follower who was a greengrocer of
Benares had just the sane doubts of his daughter, and all fell out as in the
introductory story. And as her father took hold of her hand the weeping girl
repeated these verses:--
He that should prove my buckler strong,
My father, worketh me this wrong.
Forlorn in thickest wood I cry;
My helper proves my enemy.
Then her father calmed her fears, and asked whether she was a virgin. And when
she declared that she was, he brought her home and made a feast and gave the
girl in marriage.
_____________________________
p. 245
His story ended, the Master preached the Four Truths, at the close whereof the
greengrocer was established in the First Path of Salvation. Then the faster
identified the Birth by saying, "The father and daughter of to-day were the
father and daughter in the story, and I the Tree-Sprite who witnessed the
scene."
[Note. Cf. No. 217.]
Next: No. 103. Veri-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Parosata Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 101. Parosata-Jātaka
No. 101.
PAROSATA-JĀTAKA.
Far better than a hundred fools, though they
Think hard a hundred years unceasingly,
Is one who, hearing, straightway understands.
[411] This story is in all respects analogous to the Parosahassa-Jātaka (No.
99), with the sole difference that 'think hard' is read here.
Next: No. 102. Paṇṇika-Jātaka
No. 101.
PAROSATA-JĀTAKA.
Far better than a hundred fools, though they
Think hard a hundred years unceasingly,
Is one who, hearing, straightway understands.
[411] This story is in all respects analogous to the Parosahassa-Jātaka (No.
99), with the sole difference that 'think hard' is read here.
Next: No. 102. Paṇṇika-Jātaka
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Asatarupa Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 100. Asātarūpa-Jātaka
p. 242
No. 100.
ASĀTARŪPA-JĀTAKA.
"In guise of joy."--This story was told by the Master while at Kuṇḍadhānavana
near the city of Kuṇḍiya about Suppavāsā, a lay-sister, who was daughter to King
Koliya. For at that time, she, who had carried a child seven years in her womb,
was in the seventh day of her throes, and her pains were grievous. In spite of
all her agony, she thought as follows:--"All-Enlightened is the Blessed One who
preaches the Truth to the end that such suffering may cease; righteous are the
Elect of the Blessed One who so walk that such suffering may cease; blessed is
Nirvana wherein such suffering cloth cease." These three thoughts were her
consolation in her pangs. And she sent her husband to the Buddha to tell her
state and bear a greeting for her.
Her message was given to the Blessed One, who said, [408] "May Suppavāsā,
daughter of the king of the Koliyas, grow strong and well again, and bear a
healthy child." And at the word of the Blessed One, Suppavāsā, daughter of the
king of the Koliyas, became well and strong, and bore a healthy child. Finding
on his return that his wife had been safely delivered, the husband marvelled
greatly at the exalted powers of the Buddha. Now that her child was born,
Suppavāsā was eager to show bounty for seven days to the Brotherhood with the
Buddha at its head, and sent her husband back to invite them. Now it chanced
that at that time the Brotherhood with the Buddha at its head had received an
invitation from the layman who supported the Elder Moggallāna the Great; but the
Master, wishing to gratify Suppavāsā's charitable desires, sent to the Elder to
explain the matter, and with the Brotherhood accepted for seven days the
hospitality of Suppavāsā. On the seventh day she dressed up her little boy,
whose name was Sīvali, and made him bow before the Buddha and the Brotherhood.
And when he was brought in due course to Sāriputta, the Elder in all kindness
greeted the infant, saying, "Well, Sīvali, is all well with you?" "How could it
be, sir?" said the infant. "Seven long years have I had to wallow in blood."
Then in joy Suppavāsā exclaimed, "My child, only seven days old, is actually
discoursing on religion with the apostle Sāriputta, the Captain of the Faith?"
"Would you like another such a child?" asked the Master. "Yes, sir;" said
Suppavāsā, "seven more, if I could have them like him." In solemn phrase the
Master gave thanks for Suppavāsā's hospitality and departed.
At seven years of age the child Sīvali gave his heart to the Faith and forsook
the world to join the Brotherhood; at twenty he was admitted a full Brother.
Righteous was he and won the crown of righteousness which is Arahatship, and the
earth shouted aloud for joy.
So one day the assembled Brethren talked with one another in the Hall of Truth
respecting the matter, saying, "The Elder Sīvali, who is now so shining a light,
was the child of many prayers; seven long years was he in the womb and seven
days in birth. How great must have been the pains of mother and child! Of what
deeds were their pains the fruit?"
Entering the hall, the Master asked the subject of their discourse. "Brethren,"
said he, "the righteous Sīvali [409] was seven years in the womb and seven days
in birth all because of his own past deeds. And similarly Suppavāsā's seven
years' pregnancy and seven days' travail resulted from her own past deeds." So
saying, he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
p. 243
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was the
child of the queen-consort, and grew up and was educated at Takkasilā, and at
his father's death became king and ruled righteously. Now in those days the King
of Kosala came up with a great force against Benares and slew the king and bore
off his queen to be his own wife.
When the king was slain, his son made his escape through the sewer. Afterwards
he collected a mighty force and came to Benares. Encamping hard by, he sent a
message to the king to either surrender the kingdom or give battle. And the king
sent back the answer that he would give battle. But the mother of the young
prince, hearing of this, sent a message to her son, saying, "There is no need to
do battle. Let every approach to the city on every side be invested and barred,
till lack of firewood and water and food wears out the people. Then the city
will fall into your hands without any fighting." Following his mother's advice,
the prince for seven days invested the city with so close a blockade that the
citizens on the seventh day cut off their king's head and brought it to the
prince. Then he entered the city and made himself king, and when his life ended
he passed away to fare according to his deserts.
_____________________________
The result and consequence of his acts in blockading the city for those seven
days was that for seven years he abode in the womb and was seven days in birth.
But, inasmuch as he had fallen at the feet of the Buddha Padumuttara and had
prayed with many gifts that the crown of Arahatship might be his; and, inasmuch
as, in the days of the Buddha Vipassī, he had offered up the same prayer, he and
his townsfolk, with gifts of great price;--[410] therefore, by his merit, he won
the crown of Arahatship. And because Suppavāsā sent the message bidding her son
take the city by blockade, she was doomed to a seven years' pregnancy and to a
seven days' travail.
His story ended, the Master, as Buddha, repeated these verses:--
In guise of joy and blessings, sorrow comes
And trouble, sluggards' hearts to overwhelm.
And when he had taught this lesson, the Master identified the Birth by saying,
"Sīvali was the prince who in those days blockaded the city, and became king;
Suppavāsā was his mother, and I his father, the king of Benares."
Next: No. 101. Parosata-Jātaka
p. 242
No. 100.
ASĀTARŪPA-JĀTAKA.
"In guise of joy."--This story was told by the Master while at Kuṇḍadhānavana
near the city of Kuṇḍiya about Suppavāsā, a lay-sister, who was daughter to King
Koliya. For at that time, she, who had carried a child seven years in her womb,
was in the seventh day of her throes, and her pains were grievous. In spite of
all her agony, she thought as follows:--"All-Enlightened is the Blessed One who
preaches the Truth to the end that such suffering may cease; righteous are the
Elect of the Blessed One who so walk that such suffering may cease; blessed is
Nirvana wherein such suffering cloth cease." These three thoughts were her
consolation in her pangs. And she sent her husband to the Buddha to tell her
state and bear a greeting for her.
Her message was given to the Blessed One, who said, [408] "May Suppavāsā,
daughter of the king of the Koliyas, grow strong and well again, and bear a
healthy child." And at the word of the Blessed One, Suppavāsā, daughter of the
king of the Koliyas, became well and strong, and bore a healthy child. Finding
on his return that his wife had been safely delivered, the husband marvelled
greatly at the exalted powers of the Buddha. Now that her child was born,
Suppavāsā was eager to show bounty for seven days to the Brotherhood with the
Buddha at its head, and sent her husband back to invite them. Now it chanced
that at that time the Brotherhood with the Buddha at its head had received an
invitation from the layman who supported the Elder Moggallāna the Great; but the
Master, wishing to gratify Suppavāsā's charitable desires, sent to the Elder to
explain the matter, and with the Brotherhood accepted for seven days the
hospitality of Suppavāsā. On the seventh day she dressed up her little boy,
whose name was Sīvali, and made him bow before the Buddha and the Brotherhood.
And when he was brought in due course to Sāriputta, the Elder in all kindness
greeted the infant, saying, "Well, Sīvali, is all well with you?" "How could it
be, sir?" said the infant. "Seven long years have I had to wallow in blood."
Then in joy Suppavāsā exclaimed, "My child, only seven days old, is actually
discoursing on religion with the apostle Sāriputta, the Captain of the Faith?"
"Would you like another such a child?" asked the Master. "Yes, sir;" said
Suppavāsā, "seven more, if I could have them like him." In solemn phrase the
Master gave thanks for Suppavāsā's hospitality and departed.
At seven years of age the child Sīvali gave his heart to the Faith and forsook
the world to join the Brotherhood; at twenty he was admitted a full Brother.
Righteous was he and won the crown of righteousness which is Arahatship, and the
earth shouted aloud for joy.
So one day the assembled Brethren talked with one another in the Hall of Truth
respecting the matter, saying, "The Elder Sīvali, who is now so shining a light,
was the child of many prayers; seven long years was he in the womb and seven
days in birth. How great must have been the pains of mother and child! Of what
deeds were their pains the fruit?"
Entering the hall, the Master asked the subject of their discourse. "Brethren,"
said he, "the righteous Sīvali [409] was seven years in the womb and seven days
in birth all because of his own past deeds. And similarly Suppavāsā's seven
years' pregnancy and seven days' travail resulted from her own past deeds." So
saying, he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
p. 243
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was the
child of the queen-consort, and grew up and was educated at Takkasilā, and at
his father's death became king and ruled righteously. Now in those days the King
of Kosala came up with a great force against Benares and slew the king and bore
off his queen to be his own wife.
When the king was slain, his son made his escape through the sewer. Afterwards
he collected a mighty force and came to Benares. Encamping hard by, he sent a
message to the king to either surrender the kingdom or give battle. And the king
sent back the answer that he would give battle. But the mother of the young
prince, hearing of this, sent a message to her son, saying, "There is no need to
do battle. Let every approach to the city on every side be invested and barred,
till lack of firewood and water and food wears out the people. Then the city
will fall into your hands without any fighting." Following his mother's advice,
the prince for seven days invested the city with so close a blockade that the
citizens on the seventh day cut off their king's head and brought it to the
prince. Then he entered the city and made himself king, and when his life ended
he passed away to fare according to his deserts.
_____________________________
The result and consequence of his acts in blockading the city for those seven
days was that for seven years he abode in the womb and was seven days in birth.
But, inasmuch as he had fallen at the feet of the Buddha Padumuttara and had
prayed with many gifts that the crown of Arahatship might be his; and, inasmuch
as, in the days of the Buddha Vipassī, he had offered up the same prayer, he and
his townsfolk, with gifts of great price;--[410] therefore, by his merit, he won
the crown of Arahatship. And because Suppavāsā sent the message bidding her son
take the city by blockade, she was doomed to a seven years' pregnancy and to a
seven days' travail.
His story ended, the Master, as Buddha, repeated these verses:--
In guise of joy and blessings, sorrow comes
And trouble, sluggards' hearts to overwhelm.
And when he had taught this lesson, the Master identified the Birth by saying,
"Sīvali was the prince who in those days blockaded the city, and became king;
Suppavāsā was his mother, and I his father, the king of Benares."
Next: No. 101. Parosata-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Parosahassa Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 99. Parosahassa-Jātaka
No. 99.
PAROSAHASSA-JĀTAKA.
"Far better than a thousand fools."--This story was told by the Master when at
Jetavana, concerning the question of the unconverted. [406]
(The incidents will be related in the Sarabhaṅga-jātaka 1.)
On a certain occasion the Brethren met in the Hall of Truth and praised the
wisdom of Sāriputta, the Captain of the Faith, who had expounded the meaning of
the Buddha's pithy saying. Entering the hall, the Master asked and was told what
the Brethren were talking about. "This is not the first time, Brethren," said
he, "that the meaning of a pithy saying of mine has been brought out by
Sāriputta. He did the like in times gone by." So saying, he told this story of
the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
a Northern brahmin and perfected his education at Takkasilā. Putting Lusts from
him and renouncing the world for the hermit's life, he
p. 241
won the Five Knowledges and the Eight Attainments, and dwelt in the Himalayas,
where five 'hundred hermits gathered round him. One rainy season, his chief
disciple went with half the hermits to the haunts of men to get salt and
vinegar. And that was the time when the Bodhisatta should die. And his
disciples, wishing to know his spiritual attainment, said to him, "What
excellence have you won?"
"Won?" said he; "I have won Nothing 1." So saying, he died, but was reborn in
the Brahma Realm of Radiant Devils. (For Bodhisattas even though they may have
attained to the highest state are never reborn in the Formless World, because
they are incapable of passing beyond the Realm of Form.) Mistaking his meaning,
his disciples concluded that he had failed to win any spiritual attainment. So
they did not pay the customary honours at cremation.
On his return the chief disciple learnt that the master was dead, and asked
whether they had asked what he had won. "He said he had won nothing," said they.
"So we did not pay him the usual honours at cremation."
"You understood not his meaning," said that chief disciple. "Our master meant
that he had attained to the insight called the insight into the Nothingness of
Things." But though he explained this again and again to the disciples, they
believed him not.
Knowing their unbelief, the Bodhisatta cried, "Fools! they do not believe my
chief disciple. I will make this thing plain unto them." And he came from the
Brahma Realm and by virtue of his mighty powers rested in mid-air above the
hermitage and uttered this stanza in praise of the wisdom of the chief
disciple:--[407]
Far better than a thousand fools, though they
Cry out a hundred years unceasingly,
Is one who, hearing, straightway understands.
Thus did the Great Being from mid-air proclaim the Truth and rebuke the band of
hermits. Then he passed back to the Brahma Realm, and all those hermits too
qualified themselves for rebirth in the same Realm.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "Sāriputta was the
chief disciple of those days, and I Mahā-Brahma."
Footnotes
240:1 No. 522.
241:1 One of the highest Attainments was the insight into the nothingness of
things; everything being a delusion.
Next: No. 100. Asātarūpa-Jātaka
No. 99.
PAROSAHASSA-JĀTAKA.
"Far better than a thousand fools."--This story was told by the Master when at
Jetavana, concerning the question of the unconverted. [406]
(The incidents will be related in the Sarabhaṅga-jātaka 1.)
On a certain occasion the Brethren met in the Hall of Truth and praised the
wisdom of Sāriputta, the Captain of the Faith, who had expounded the meaning of
the Buddha's pithy saying. Entering the hall, the Master asked and was told what
the Brethren were talking about. "This is not the first time, Brethren," said
he, "that the meaning of a pithy saying of mine has been brought out by
Sāriputta. He did the like in times gone by." So saying, he told this story of
the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
a Northern brahmin and perfected his education at Takkasilā. Putting Lusts from
him and renouncing the world for the hermit's life, he
p. 241
won the Five Knowledges and the Eight Attainments, and dwelt in the Himalayas,
where five 'hundred hermits gathered round him. One rainy season, his chief
disciple went with half the hermits to the haunts of men to get salt and
vinegar. And that was the time when the Bodhisatta should die. And his
disciples, wishing to know his spiritual attainment, said to him, "What
excellence have you won?"
"Won?" said he; "I have won Nothing 1." So saying, he died, but was reborn in
the Brahma Realm of Radiant Devils. (For Bodhisattas even though they may have
attained to the highest state are never reborn in the Formless World, because
they are incapable of passing beyond the Realm of Form.) Mistaking his meaning,
his disciples concluded that he had failed to win any spiritual attainment. So
they did not pay the customary honours at cremation.
On his return the chief disciple learnt that the master was dead, and asked
whether they had asked what he had won. "He said he had won nothing," said they.
"So we did not pay him the usual honours at cremation."
"You understood not his meaning," said that chief disciple. "Our master meant
that he had attained to the insight called the insight into the Nothingness of
Things." But though he explained this again and again to the disciples, they
believed him not.
Knowing their unbelief, the Bodhisatta cried, "Fools! they do not believe my
chief disciple. I will make this thing plain unto them." And he came from the
Brahma Realm and by virtue of his mighty powers rested in mid-air above the
hermitage and uttered this stanza in praise of the wisdom of the chief
disciple:--[407]
Far better than a thousand fools, though they
Cry out a hundred years unceasingly,
Is one who, hearing, straightway understands.
Thus did the Great Being from mid-air proclaim the Truth and rebuke the band of
hermits. Then he passed back to the Brahma Realm, and all those hermits too
qualified themselves for rebirth in the same Realm.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "Sāriputta was the
chief disciple of those days, and I Mahā-Brahma."
Footnotes
240:1 No. 522.
241:1 One of the highest Attainments was the insight into the nothingness of
things; everything being a delusion.
Next: No. 100. Asātarūpa-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Kutavanija Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 98. Kūṭavāṇija-Jātaka
p. 239
No. 98.
KŪṬAVĀṆIJA-JĀTAKA.
[404] "Wise rightly, Wisest wrongly."--This story was told by the Master while
at Jetavana, about a cheating merchant. There were two merchants in partnership
at Sāvatthi, we are told, who travelled with their merchandise and came back
with the proceeds. And the cheating merchant thought to himself, "My partner has
been badly fed and badly lodged for so many days past that he will die of
indigestion now he has got home again and can feast to his heart's content on
dainties manifold. My plan is to divide what we have made into three portions,
giving one to his orphans and keeping two for myself." And with this object he
made some excuse day by day for putting off the division of the profits.
Finding that it was in vain to press for a division, the honest partner went to
the Master at the monastery, made his salutation, and was received kindly. "It
is a very long time," said the Buddha, "since you came last to see me." And
hereupon the merchant told the Master what had befallen him.
"This is not the first time, lay-follower," said the Master, "that this man has
been a cheating merchant; he was no less a cheat in times past. As he tries to
defraud you now, so did he try to defraud the wise and good of other days." So
saying, at the merchant's request, the Master told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
into a merchant's family and on name-day was named 'Wise.' When he grew up he
entered into partnership with another merchant named 'Wisest,' and traded with
him. And these two took five hundred waggons of merchandise from Benares to the
country-districts, where they disposed of their wares, returning afterwards with
the proceeds to the city. When the time for dividing came, Wisest said, "I must
have a double share." "Why so?" asked Wise. "Because while you are only Wise, I
am Wisest. And Wise ought to have only one share to Wisest's two." "But we both
had an equal interest in the stock-in-trade and in the oxen and waggons. Why
should you have two shares?" "Because I am Wisest." And so they talked away till
they fell to quarrelling.
"Ah!" thought Wisest, "I have a plan." And he made his father hide in [405] a
hollow tree, enjoining the old man to say, when the two came, "Wisest should
have a double portion." This arranged, he went to the Bodhisatta and proposed to
him to refer the claim for a double share to the competent decision of the
Tree-Sprite. Then he made his appeal in these words: "Lord Tree-Sprite, decide
our cause!" Hereupon the father, who was hidden in the tree, in a changed voice
asked them to state the
p. 240
case. The cheat addressed the tree as follows: "Lord, here stands Wise, and here
stand I Wisest. We have been partners in trade. Declare what share each should
receive."
"Wise should receive one share, and Wisest two," was the response.
Hearing this decision, the Bodhisatta resolved to find out whether it was indeed
a Tree-Sprite or not. So he filled the hollow trunk with straw and set it on
fire. And Wisest's father was half roasted by the rising flames and clambered up
by clutching hold of a bough. Falling to the ground, he uttered this stanza:--
Wise rightly, Wisest wrongly got his name;
Through Wisest, I'm nigh roasted in the flame.
Then the two merchants made an equal division and each took half, and at their
deaths passed away to fare according to their deserts.
_____________________________
"Thus you see," said the Master, "that your partner was as great a cheat in past
times as now." Having ended his story, he identified the Birth by saying, "The
cheating merchant of to-day was the cheating merchant in the story, and I the
honest merchant named Wise."
Next: No. 99. Parosahassa-Jātaka
p. 239
No. 98.
KŪṬAVĀṆIJA-JĀTAKA.
[404] "Wise rightly, Wisest wrongly."--This story was told by the Master while
at Jetavana, about a cheating merchant. There were two merchants in partnership
at Sāvatthi, we are told, who travelled with their merchandise and came back
with the proceeds. And the cheating merchant thought to himself, "My partner has
been badly fed and badly lodged for so many days past that he will die of
indigestion now he has got home again and can feast to his heart's content on
dainties manifold. My plan is to divide what we have made into three portions,
giving one to his orphans and keeping two for myself." And with this object he
made some excuse day by day for putting off the division of the profits.
Finding that it was in vain to press for a division, the honest partner went to
the Master at the monastery, made his salutation, and was received kindly. "It
is a very long time," said the Buddha, "since you came last to see me." And
hereupon the merchant told the Master what had befallen him.
"This is not the first time, lay-follower," said the Master, "that this man has
been a cheating merchant; he was no less a cheat in times past. As he tries to
defraud you now, so did he try to defraud the wise and good of other days." So
saying, at the merchant's request, the Master told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
into a merchant's family and on name-day was named 'Wise.' When he grew up he
entered into partnership with another merchant named 'Wisest,' and traded with
him. And these two took five hundred waggons of merchandise from Benares to the
country-districts, where they disposed of their wares, returning afterwards with
the proceeds to the city. When the time for dividing came, Wisest said, "I must
have a double share." "Why so?" asked Wise. "Because while you are only Wise, I
am Wisest. And Wise ought to have only one share to Wisest's two." "But we both
had an equal interest in the stock-in-trade and in the oxen and waggons. Why
should you have two shares?" "Because I am Wisest." And so they talked away till
they fell to quarrelling.
"Ah!" thought Wisest, "I have a plan." And he made his father hide in [405] a
hollow tree, enjoining the old man to say, when the two came, "Wisest should
have a double portion." This arranged, he went to the Bodhisatta and proposed to
him to refer the claim for a double share to the competent decision of the
Tree-Sprite. Then he made his appeal in these words: "Lord Tree-Sprite, decide
our cause!" Hereupon the father, who was hidden in the tree, in a changed voice
asked them to state the
p. 240
case. The cheat addressed the tree as follows: "Lord, here stands Wise, and here
stand I Wisest. We have been partners in trade. Declare what share each should
receive."
"Wise should receive one share, and Wisest two," was the response.
Hearing this decision, the Bodhisatta resolved to find out whether it was indeed
a Tree-Sprite or not. So he filled the hollow trunk with straw and set it on
fire. And Wisest's father was half roasted by the rising flames and clambered up
by clutching hold of a bough. Falling to the ground, he uttered this stanza:--
Wise rightly, Wisest wrongly got his name;
Through Wisest, I'm nigh roasted in the flame.
Then the two merchants made an equal division and each took half, and at their
deaths passed away to fare according to their deserts.
_____________________________
"Thus you see," said the Master, "that your partner was as great a cheat in past
times as now." Having ended his story, he identified the Birth by saying, "The
cheating merchant of to-day was the cheating merchant in the story, and I the
honest merchant named Wise."
Next: No. 99. Parosahassa-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Namasiddhi Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 97. Nāmasiddhi-Jātaka
No. 97.
NĀMASIDDHI-JĀTAKA.
"Seeing Quick dead."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, about
a Brother who thought luck went by names. For we hear that a young man of good
family, named 'Base,' had given his heart to the Faith, and joined the
Brotherhood. [402] And the Brethren used to call to him, "Here, Brother Base!"
and "Stay, Brother Base," till he resolved that, as 'Base' gave the idea of
incarnate wickedness and ill-luck, he would change his name to one of better
omen. Accordingly he asked his teachers and preceptors to give him a new name.
But they said that a name only served to denote, and did not impute qualities;
and they bade him rest content with the name he had. Time after time he renewed
his request, till the whole Brotherhood knew what importance he attached to a
mere name. And as they sat discussing the matter in the Hall of Truth, the
Master entered and asked what it was they were speaking about. Being told, he
said "This is not the first time this Brother has believed luck went by names;
he was equally dissatisfied with the name he bore in a former age." So saying he
told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time the Bodhisatta was a teacher of world-wide fame at Takkasilā, and
five hundred young brahmins learnt the Vedas from his lips. One of these young
men was named Base. And from continually hearing his fellows say, "Go, Base" and
"Come, Base," he longed to get rid of his name and to take one that had a less
ill-omened ring about it. So he went to his master and asked that a new name of
a respectable character might be given him. Said his master, "Go, my son, and
travel through the land till you have found a name you fancy. Then come back and
I will change your name for you."
The young man did as he was bidden, and taking provisions for the
p. 238
journey wandered from village to village till he cane to a certain town. Here a
man named Quick had died, and the young brahmin seeing him borne to the cemetery
asked what his name was.
"Quick," was the reply. "What, can Quick be dead?" "Yes, Quick is dead; both
Quick and Dead die just the same. A name only serves to mark who's who. You seem
a fool."
Hearing this he went on into the city, feeling neither satisfied nor
dissatisfied with his own name.
Now a slave-girl had been thrown down at the door of a house, while her master
and mistress beat her with rope-ends because she had not brought home her wages.
And the girl's name was Rich. [403] Seeing the girl being beaten, as he walked
along the street, he asked the reason, and was told in reply that it was because
she had no wages to shew.
"And what is the girl's name?"
"Rich," said they. "And cannot Rich make good a paltry day's pay?" "Be she
called Rich or Poor, the money's not forthcoming any the more. A name only
serves to mark who's who. You seem a fool."
More reconciled to his own name, the young brahmin left the city and on the road
found a. man who had lost his way. Having learnt that he had lost his way, the
young man asked what his name was. "Guide," was the reply. "And has Guide lost
his way?" "Guide or Misguide, you can lose your way just the same. A name only
serves to mark who's who. You seem a fool."
Quite reconciled now to his name, the young brahmin came back to his master.
"Well, what name have you chosen?" asked the Bodhisatta. "Master," said he, "I
find that death comes to 'Quick' and 'Dead' alike, that 'Rich' and 'Poor' may be
poor together, and that 'Guide' and 'Misguide' alike miss their way. I know now
that a name serves only to tell who is who, and does not govern its owner's
destiny. So I am satisfied with my own name, and do not want to change it for
any other."
Then the Bodhisatta uttered this stanza, combining what the young brahmin had
done with the sights he had seen:--
Seeing Quick dead, Guide lost, Rich poor,
Base learned content nor travelled more.
_____________________________
His story told, the Master said "So you see, Brethren, that in former days as
now this Brother imagined there was a great deal in a name." And he identified
the Birth by saying, "This Brother who is discontented with his name was the
discontented young brahmin of those days; the Buddha's disciples were the
pupils; and I myself their master."
Next: No. 98. Kūṭavāṇija-Jātaka
No. 97.
NĀMASIDDHI-JĀTAKA.
"Seeing Quick dead."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, about
a Brother who thought luck went by names. For we hear that a young man of good
family, named 'Base,' had given his heart to the Faith, and joined the
Brotherhood. [402] And the Brethren used to call to him, "Here, Brother Base!"
and "Stay, Brother Base," till he resolved that, as 'Base' gave the idea of
incarnate wickedness and ill-luck, he would change his name to one of better
omen. Accordingly he asked his teachers and preceptors to give him a new name.
But they said that a name only served to denote, and did not impute qualities;
and they bade him rest content with the name he had. Time after time he renewed
his request, till the whole Brotherhood knew what importance he attached to a
mere name. And as they sat discussing the matter in the Hall of Truth, the
Master entered and asked what it was they were speaking about. Being told, he
said "This is not the first time this Brother has believed luck went by names;
he was equally dissatisfied with the name he bore in a former age." So saying he
told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time the Bodhisatta was a teacher of world-wide fame at Takkasilā, and
five hundred young brahmins learnt the Vedas from his lips. One of these young
men was named Base. And from continually hearing his fellows say, "Go, Base" and
"Come, Base," he longed to get rid of his name and to take one that had a less
ill-omened ring about it. So he went to his master and asked that a new name of
a respectable character might be given him. Said his master, "Go, my son, and
travel through the land till you have found a name you fancy. Then come back and
I will change your name for you."
The young man did as he was bidden, and taking provisions for the
p. 238
journey wandered from village to village till he cane to a certain town. Here a
man named Quick had died, and the young brahmin seeing him borne to the cemetery
asked what his name was.
"Quick," was the reply. "What, can Quick be dead?" "Yes, Quick is dead; both
Quick and Dead die just the same. A name only serves to mark who's who. You seem
a fool."
Hearing this he went on into the city, feeling neither satisfied nor
dissatisfied with his own name.
Now a slave-girl had been thrown down at the door of a house, while her master
and mistress beat her with rope-ends because she had not brought home her wages.
And the girl's name was Rich. [403] Seeing the girl being beaten, as he walked
along the street, he asked the reason, and was told in reply that it was because
she had no wages to shew.
"And what is the girl's name?"
"Rich," said they. "And cannot Rich make good a paltry day's pay?" "Be she
called Rich or Poor, the money's not forthcoming any the more. A name only
serves to mark who's who. You seem a fool."
More reconciled to his own name, the young brahmin left the city and on the road
found a. man who had lost his way. Having learnt that he had lost his way, the
young man asked what his name was. "Guide," was the reply. "And has Guide lost
his way?" "Guide or Misguide, you can lose your way just the same. A name only
serves to mark who's who. You seem a fool."
Quite reconciled now to his name, the young brahmin came back to his master.
"Well, what name have you chosen?" asked the Bodhisatta. "Master," said he, "I
find that death comes to 'Quick' and 'Dead' alike, that 'Rich' and 'Poor' may be
poor together, and that 'Guide' and 'Misguide' alike miss their way. I know now
that a name serves only to tell who is who, and does not govern its owner's
destiny. So I am satisfied with my own name, and do not want to change it for
any other."
Then the Bodhisatta uttered this stanza, combining what the young brahmin had
done with the sights he had seen:--
Seeing Quick dead, Guide lost, Rich poor,
Base learned content nor travelled more.
_____________________________
His story told, the Master said "So you see, Brethren, that in former days as
now this Brother imagined there was a great deal in a name." And he identified
the Birth by saying, "This Brother who is discontented with his name was the
discontented young brahmin of those days; the Buddha's disciples were the
pupils; and I myself their master."
Next: No. 98. Kūṭavāṇija-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Telapatta Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 96. Telapatta-Jātaka
No. 96.
TELAPATTA-JĀTAKA.
"As one with care."--This story was told by the Master while dwelling in a
forest near the town of Desaka in the Sumbha country, concerning the
Janapada-Kalyāṇi Sutta 2. For on that occasion the Blessed One said:--"Just as
if, Brethren, a great crowd were to gather together, crying 'Hail to the Belle
of the Land! Hail to the Belle of the Land!' and just as if in like manner a
greater crowd were to gather together, crying 'The Belle of the Land is singing
and dancing'; and then suppose there came a man fond of life, fearful of death,
fond of pleasure, and averse to pain, and suppose such an one were addressed as
follows,--'Hi, there! you are to carry this pot of oil, which is full to the
brim, betwixt the crowd and the Belle of the Land; a man with a drawn sword will
follow in your footsteps; and if you spill a single drop, he will cut off your
head';--what think you, Brethren? Would that man, under these circumstances, be
careless, and take no pains in carrying that pot of oil?" "By no manner of
means, sir." "This is an allegory [394], which I framed to make my
p. 233
meaning clear, Brethren; and here is its meaning:--The brimming pot of oil
typifies a collected state of mind as regards things concerning the body, and
the lesson to be learnt is that such mindfulness should be practised and
perfected. Fail not in this, Brethren." So saying, the Master gave forth the
Sutta concerning the Belle of the Land, with both text and interpretation. [395]
Then, by way of application, the Blessed One went on to say,--"A Brother
desirous of practising right mindfulness concerning the body, should be as
careful not to let his mindfulness drop, as the man in the allegory was not to
let drop the pot of oil."
When they had heard the Sutta and its meaning, the Brethren said:--"It was a
hard task, sir, for the man to pass by with the pot of oil without gazing on the
charms of the Belle of the Land." "Not hard at all, Brethren; it was quite an
easy task,--easy for the very good reason that he was escorted along by one who
threatened him with a drawn sword. But it was a truly hard task for the wise and
good of bygone days to preserve right mindfulness and to curb their passions so
as not to look at celestial beauty in all its perfection. Still they triumphed,
and passing on won a kingdom." So saying, he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was the
youngest of the King's hundred sons, and grew up to manhood. Now in those days
there were Pacceka Buddhas who used to come to take their meals at the palace,
and the Bodhisatta ministered to them.
Thinking one day of the great number of brothers he had, the Bodhisatta asked
himself whether there was any likelihood of his coming to the throne of his
fathers in that city, and determined to ask the Pacceka Buddhas to tell him what
should come to pass. Next day the Buddhas came, took the water-pot that was
consecrated to holy uses, filtered the water, washed and dried their feet, and
sate down to their meal. And as they sat, the Bodhisatta came and seating
himself by them with a courteous salutation, put his question. And they answered
and said, "Prince, you will never come to be king in this city. But in Gandhāra,
two thousand leagues away, there stands the city of Takkasilā. If you can reach
that city, in seven days you will become king there. But there is peril on the
road thither, in journeying through a great forest. It is double the distance
round the forest that it is to pass through it. Ogres have their dwelling
therein, and ogresses make villages and houses arise by the wayside. Beneath a
goodly canopy embroidered with stars overhead, their magic sets a costly couch
shut in by fair curtains of wondrous dye. Arranged in celestial splendour the
ogresses sit within their abodes, seducing wayfarers [396] with honied words.
'Weary you seem,' they say; 'come hither, and eat and drink before you journey
further on your way.' Those that come at their bidding are given seats and fired
to lust by the charm of their wanton beauty. But scarce have they sinned, before
the ogresses slay them and eat them while the warm
p. 234
blood is still flowing. And they ensnare men's senses; captivating the sense of
beauty with utter loveliness, the ear with sweet minstrelsy, the nostrils with
heavenly odours, the taste with heavenly dainties of exquisite savour, and the
touch with red-cushioned couches divinely soft. But if you can subdue your
senses, and be strong in your resolve not to look upon them, then on the seventh
day you will become king of the city of Takkasilā."
"Oh, sirs; how could I look upon the ogresses after your advice to me?" So
saying, the Bodhisatta besought the Pacceka Buddhas to give him something to
keep him safe on his journey. Receiving from them a charmed thread and some
charmed sand, he first bade farewell to the Pacceka Buddhas and to his father
and mother; and then, going to his own abode, he addressed his household as
follows:--"I am going to Takkasilā to make myself king there. You will stop
behind here." But five of them answered, "Let us go too."
"You may not come with me," answered the Bodhisatta; "for I am told that the way
is beset by ogresses who captivate men's senses, and destroy those who succumb
to their charms. Great is the danger, but I will rely on myself and go."
"If we go with you, prince, we should not gaze upon their baleful charms. We too
will go to Takkasilā." "Then shew yourselves steadfast," said the Bodhisatta,
and took those five with him on his journey.
The ogresses sat waiting by the way in their villages. And one of the five, the
lover of beauty, looked upon the ogresses, and being ensnared by their beauty,
lagged behind the rest. "Why are you dropping behind?" asked the Bodhisatta. "My
feet hurt me, prince. I'll just sit down for a bit in one of these pavilions,
and then catch you up." "My good mall, these are ogresses; don't hanker after
them." "Be that as it may, prince, I can't go any further." "Well, you will soon
be shewn in your real colours," said the Bodhisatta, as he went on with the
other four.
Yielding to his senses, the lover of beauty drew near to the ogresses, who [397]
tempted him to sin, and killed him then and there. Thereon they departed, and
further along the road raised by magic arts a new pavilion, in which they sat
singing to the music of divers instruments. And now the lover of music dropped
behind and was eaten. Then the ogresses went on further and sat waiting in a
bazaar stocked with all sweet scents and perfumes. And here the lover of
sweet-smelling things fell behind. And when they had eaten him, they went on
further and sat in a provision-booth where a profusion of heavenly viands of
exquisite savour was offered for sale. And here the gourmet fell behind. And
when they had eaten him, they went on further, and sat on heavenly conches
wrought by their magic arts. And here the lover of comfort fell behind. And him
too they ate.
p. 235
Only the Bodhisatta was left now. And one of the ogresses followed him,
promising herself that for all his stern resolution she would succeed in
devouring him ere she turned back. Further on in the forest, woodmen and others,
seeing the ogress, asked her who the man was that walked on ahead.
"He is my husband, good gentlemen."
"Hi, there!" said they to the Bodhisatta; "when you have got a sweet young wife,
fair as the flowers, to leave her home and put her trust in you, why don't you
walk with her instead of letting her trudge wearily behind you?" "She is no wife
of mine, but an ogress. She has eaten my five companions." "Alas! good
gentlemen," said she, "anger will drive men to say their very wives are ogresses
and ghouls."
Next, she simulated pregnancy and then the look of a woman who has borne one
child; and child on hip, she followed after the Bodhisatta. Everyone they met
asked just the same questions about the pair, and the Bodhisatta gave just the
same answer as he journeyed on.
At last he came to Takkasilā, where the ogress made the child disappear, and
followed alone. At the gates of the city the Bodhisatta entered a Rest-house and
sat down. Because of the Bodhisatta's efficacy and power, she could not enter
too; so she arrayed herself in divine beauty and stood on the threshold.
The King of Takkasilā was at that moment passing by on his way to his
pleasaunce, and was snared by her loveliness. "Go, find out," said he to an
attendant, "whether she has a husband [398] with her or not." And when the
messenger came and asked whether she had a husband with her, she said, "Yes,
sir; my husband is sitting within in the chamber."
"She is no wife of mine," said the Bodhisatta. "She is an ogress and has eaten
my five companions."
And, as before, she said, "Alas! good gentlemen, anger will drive men to say
anything that comes into their heads."
Then the man went back to the King and told him what each had said.
"Treasure-trove is a royal perquisite," said the King. And he sent for the
ogress and had her seated on the back of his elephant. After a solemn procession
round the city, the King came back to his palace and had the ogress lodged in
the apartments reserved for a queen-consort. After bathing and perfuming
himself, the King ate his evening meal and then lay down on his royal bed. The
ogress too prepared herself a meal, and donned all her splendour. And as she lay
by the side of the delighted King, she turned on to her side and burst into
tears. Being asked why she wept, she said, "Sire, you found me by the wayside,
and the women of the harem are many. Dwelling here among enemies I shall feel
crushed when they say 'Who knows who your father and mother are, or anything
about your family? You were picked up by the wayside.' But if your
p. 236
majesty would give me power and authority over the whole kingdom, nobody would
dare to annoy me with such taunts."
"Sweetheart, I have no power over those that dwell throughout my kingdom; I am
not their lord and master. I have only jurisdiction over those who revolt or do
iniquity 1. So I cannot give you power and authority over the whole kingdom."
"Then, sire, if you cannot give me authority over the kingdom or over the city,
at least give me authority within the palace, that I may have rule here over
those that dwell in the palace."
Too deeply smitten with her charms to refuse, the King gave her authority over
all within the palace and bade her have rule over them [399]. Contented, she
waited till the King was asleep, and then making her way to the city of the
ogres returned with the whole crew of ogres to the palace. And she herself slew
the King and devoured him, skin, tendons and flesh, leaving only the bare bones.
And the rest of the ogres entering the gate devoured everything as it came in
their way, not leaving even a fowl or a dog alive. Next day when people came and
found the gate shut, they beat on it with impatient cries, and effected an
entrance,--only to find the whole palace strewn with bones. And they exclaimed,
"So the man was right in saying she was not his wife but an ogress. In his
unwisdom the King brought her home to be his wife, and doubtless she has
assembled the other ogres, devoured everybody, and then made off."
Now on that day the Bodhisatta, with the charmed sand on his head and the
charmed thread twisted round his brow, was standing in the Rest-house, sword in
hand, waiting for the dawn. Those others, meantime, cleansed the palace,
garnished the floors afresh, sprinkled perfumes on them, scattered flowers,
hanging nosegays from the roof and festooning the walls with garlands, and
burning incense in the place. Then they took counsel together, as follows:--
"The man that could so master his senses as not so much as to look at the ogress
as she followed him in her divine beauty, is a noble and steadfast man, filled
with wisdom. With such an one as king, it would be well with the whole kingdom.
Let us make him our king."
And all the courtiers and all the citizens of the kingdom were one-minded in the
matter. So the Bodhisatta, being chosen king, was escorted into the capital and
there decked in jewels and anointed king of Takkasilā. Shunning the four evil
paths, and following the ten paths of kingly duty, he ruled his kingdom in
righteousness, and after a life spent in charity and other good works passed
away to fare according to his deserts.
_____________________________
p. 237
His story told, the Master, as Buddha, uttered this stanza:-- [400]
As one with care a pot of oil will bear,
Full to the brim, that none may overflow,
So he who forth to foreign lands doth fare
O’er his own heart like governaunce should shew.
[401] When the Master had thus led up to the highest point of instruction, which
is Arahatship, he identified the Birth by saying, "The Buddha's disciples were
in those days the king's courtiers, and I the prince that won a kingdom."
Footnotes
232:1 This is the general style in the canon of the wife of Goiania the Buddha.
Cf. Oldenberg's Vinaya, Vol. I. page 82, and the translation in Sacred Books of
the East, Vol. XIII. p. 208. It is not however correct to say that the Vinaya
passage is "the only passage in the Pāli Piṭakas which mentions this lady." For
she is mentioned in the Buddhavaṃsa (P. T. S. edition, page 65), and her name is
there given as Bhaddakaccā.
232:2 It is not yet known where this Sutta occurs. A Pāli summary of it has been
left untranslated, as adding little or nothing to the above 'Introductory
Story.'
236:1 Cf. Milinda-pañho 359 for an exposition of the limited prerogative of
kings.
Next: No. 97. Nāmasiddhi-Jātaka
No. 96.
TELAPATTA-JĀTAKA.
"As one with care."--This story was told by the Master while dwelling in a
forest near the town of Desaka in the Sumbha country, concerning the
Janapada-Kalyāṇi Sutta 2. For on that occasion the Blessed One said:--"Just as
if, Brethren, a great crowd were to gather together, crying 'Hail to the Belle
of the Land! Hail to the Belle of the Land!' and just as if in like manner a
greater crowd were to gather together, crying 'The Belle of the Land is singing
and dancing'; and then suppose there came a man fond of life, fearful of death,
fond of pleasure, and averse to pain, and suppose such an one were addressed as
follows,--'Hi, there! you are to carry this pot of oil, which is full to the
brim, betwixt the crowd and the Belle of the Land; a man with a drawn sword will
follow in your footsteps; and if you spill a single drop, he will cut off your
head';--what think you, Brethren? Would that man, under these circumstances, be
careless, and take no pains in carrying that pot of oil?" "By no manner of
means, sir." "This is an allegory [394], which I framed to make my
p. 233
meaning clear, Brethren; and here is its meaning:--The brimming pot of oil
typifies a collected state of mind as regards things concerning the body, and
the lesson to be learnt is that such mindfulness should be practised and
perfected. Fail not in this, Brethren." So saying, the Master gave forth the
Sutta concerning the Belle of the Land, with both text and interpretation. [395]
Then, by way of application, the Blessed One went on to say,--"A Brother
desirous of practising right mindfulness concerning the body, should be as
careful not to let his mindfulness drop, as the man in the allegory was not to
let drop the pot of oil."
When they had heard the Sutta and its meaning, the Brethren said:--"It was a
hard task, sir, for the man to pass by with the pot of oil without gazing on the
charms of the Belle of the Land." "Not hard at all, Brethren; it was quite an
easy task,--easy for the very good reason that he was escorted along by one who
threatened him with a drawn sword. But it was a truly hard task for the wise and
good of bygone days to preserve right mindfulness and to curb their passions so
as not to look at celestial beauty in all its perfection. Still they triumphed,
and passing on won a kingdom." So saying, he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was the
youngest of the King's hundred sons, and grew up to manhood. Now in those days
there were Pacceka Buddhas who used to come to take their meals at the palace,
and the Bodhisatta ministered to them.
Thinking one day of the great number of brothers he had, the Bodhisatta asked
himself whether there was any likelihood of his coming to the throne of his
fathers in that city, and determined to ask the Pacceka Buddhas to tell him what
should come to pass. Next day the Buddhas came, took the water-pot that was
consecrated to holy uses, filtered the water, washed and dried their feet, and
sate down to their meal. And as they sat, the Bodhisatta came and seating
himself by them with a courteous salutation, put his question. And they answered
and said, "Prince, you will never come to be king in this city. But in Gandhāra,
two thousand leagues away, there stands the city of Takkasilā. If you can reach
that city, in seven days you will become king there. But there is peril on the
road thither, in journeying through a great forest. It is double the distance
round the forest that it is to pass through it. Ogres have their dwelling
therein, and ogresses make villages and houses arise by the wayside. Beneath a
goodly canopy embroidered with stars overhead, their magic sets a costly couch
shut in by fair curtains of wondrous dye. Arranged in celestial splendour the
ogresses sit within their abodes, seducing wayfarers [396] with honied words.
'Weary you seem,' they say; 'come hither, and eat and drink before you journey
further on your way.' Those that come at their bidding are given seats and fired
to lust by the charm of their wanton beauty. But scarce have they sinned, before
the ogresses slay them and eat them while the warm
p. 234
blood is still flowing. And they ensnare men's senses; captivating the sense of
beauty with utter loveliness, the ear with sweet minstrelsy, the nostrils with
heavenly odours, the taste with heavenly dainties of exquisite savour, and the
touch with red-cushioned couches divinely soft. But if you can subdue your
senses, and be strong in your resolve not to look upon them, then on the seventh
day you will become king of the city of Takkasilā."
"Oh, sirs; how could I look upon the ogresses after your advice to me?" So
saying, the Bodhisatta besought the Pacceka Buddhas to give him something to
keep him safe on his journey. Receiving from them a charmed thread and some
charmed sand, he first bade farewell to the Pacceka Buddhas and to his father
and mother; and then, going to his own abode, he addressed his household as
follows:--"I am going to Takkasilā to make myself king there. You will stop
behind here." But five of them answered, "Let us go too."
"You may not come with me," answered the Bodhisatta; "for I am told that the way
is beset by ogresses who captivate men's senses, and destroy those who succumb
to their charms. Great is the danger, but I will rely on myself and go."
"If we go with you, prince, we should not gaze upon their baleful charms. We too
will go to Takkasilā." "Then shew yourselves steadfast," said the Bodhisatta,
and took those five with him on his journey.
The ogresses sat waiting by the way in their villages. And one of the five, the
lover of beauty, looked upon the ogresses, and being ensnared by their beauty,
lagged behind the rest. "Why are you dropping behind?" asked the Bodhisatta. "My
feet hurt me, prince. I'll just sit down for a bit in one of these pavilions,
and then catch you up." "My good mall, these are ogresses; don't hanker after
them." "Be that as it may, prince, I can't go any further." "Well, you will soon
be shewn in your real colours," said the Bodhisatta, as he went on with the
other four.
Yielding to his senses, the lover of beauty drew near to the ogresses, who [397]
tempted him to sin, and killed him then and there. Thereon they departed, and
further along the road raised by magic arts a new pavilion, in which they sat
singing to the music of divers instruments. And now the lover of music dropped
behind and was eaten. Then the ogresses went on further and sat waiting in a
bazaar stocked with all sweet scents and perfumes. And here the lover of
sweet-smelling things fell behind. And when they had eaten him, they went on
further and sat in a provision-booth where a profusion of heavenly viands of
exquisite savour was offered for sale. And here the gourmet fell behind. And
when they had eaten him, they went on further, and sat on heavenly conches
wrought by their magic arts. And here the lover of comfort fell behind. And him
too they ate.
p. 235
Only the Bodhisatta was left now. And one of the ogresses followed him,
promising herself that for all his stern resolution she would succeed in
devouring him ere she turned back. Further on in the forest, woodmen and others,
seeing the ogress, asked her who the man was that walked on ahead.
"He is my husband, good gentlemen."
"Hi, there!" said they to the Bodhisatta; "when you have got a sweet young wife,
fair as the flowers, to leave her home and put her trust in you, why don't you
walk with her instead of letting her trudge wearily behind you?" "She is no wife
of mine, but an ogress. She has eaten my five companions." "Alas! good
gentlemen," said she, "anger will drive men to say their very wives are ogresses
and ghouls."
Next, she simulated pregnancy and then the look of a woman who has borne one
child; and child on hip, she followed after the Bodhisatta. Everyone they met
asked just the same questions about the pair, and the Bodhisatta gave just the
same answer as he journeyed on.
At last he came to Takkasilā, where the ogress made the child disappear, and
followed alone. At the gates of the city the Bodhisatta entered a Rest-house and
sat down. Because of the Bodhisatta's efficacy and power, she could not enter
too; so she arrayed herself in divine beauty and stood on the threshold.
The King of Takkasilā was at that moment passing by on his way to his
pleasaunce, and was snared by her loveliness. "Go, find out," said he to an
attendant, "whether she has a husband [398] with her or not." And when the
messenger came and asked whether she had a husband with her, she said, "Yes,
sir; my husband is sitting within in the chamber."
"She is no wife of mine," said the Bodhisatta. "She is an ogress and has eaten
my five companions."
And, as before, she said, "Alas! good gentlemen, anger will drive men to say
anything that comes into their heads."
Then the man went back to the King and told him what each had said.
"Treasure-trove is a royal perquisite," said the King. And he sent for the
ogress and had her seated on the back of his elephant. After a solemn procession
round the city, the King came back to his palace and had the ogress lodged in
the apartments reserved for a queen-consort. After bathing and perfuming
himself, the King ate his evening meal and then lay down on his royal bed. The
ogress too prepared herself a meal, and donned all her splendour. And as she lay
by the side of the delighted King, she turned on to her side and burst into
tears. Being asked why she wept, she said, "Sire, you found me by the wayside,
and the women of the harem are many. Dwelling here among enemies I shall feel
crushed when they say 'Who knows who your father and mother are, or anything
about your family? You were picked up by the wayside.' But if your
p. 236
majesty would give me power and authority over the whole kingdom, nobody would
dare to annoy me with such taunts."
"Sweetheart, I have no power over those that dwell throughout my kingdom; I am
not their lord and master. I have only jurisdiction over those who revolt or do
iniquity 1. So I cannot give you power and authority over the whole kingdom."
"Then, sire, if you cannot give me authority over the kingdom or over the city,
at least give me authority within the palace, that I may have rule here over
those that dwell in the palace."
Too deeply smitten with her charms to refuse, the King gave her authority over
all within the palace and bade her have rule over them [399]. Contented, she
waited till the King was asleep, and then making her way to the city of the
ogres returned with the whole crew of ogres to the palace. And she herself slew
the King and devoured him, skin, tendons and flesh, leaving only the bare bones.
And the rest of the ogres entering the gate devoured everything as it came in
their way, not leaving even a fowl or a dog alive. Next day when people came and
found the gate shut, they beat on it with impatient cries, and effected an
entrance,--only to find the whole palace strewn with bones. And they exclaimed,
"So the man was right in saying she was not his wife but an ogress. In his
unwisdom the King brought her home to be his wife, and doubtless she has
assembled the other ogres, devoured everybody, and then made off."
Now on that day the Bodhisatta, with the charmed sand on his head and the
charmed thread twisted round his brow, was standing in the Rest-house, sword in
hand, waiting for the dawn. Those others, meantime, cleansed the palace,
garnished the floors afresh, sprinkled perfumes on them, scattered flowers,
hanging nosegays from the roof and festooning the walls with garlands, and
burning incense in the place. Then they took counsel together, as follows:--
"The man that could so master his senses as not so much as to look at the ogress
as she followed him in her divine beauty, is a noble and steadfast man, filled
with wisdom. With such an one as king, it would be well with the whole kingdom.
Let us make him our king."
And all the courtiers and all the citizens of the kingdom were one-minded in the
matter. So the Bodhisatta, being chosen king, was escorted into the capital and
there decked in jewels and anointed king of Takkasilā. Shunning the four evil
paths, and following the ten paths of kingly duty, he ruled his kingdom in
righteousness, and after a life spent in charity and other good works passed
away to fare according to his deserts.
_____________________________
p. 237
His story told, the Master, as Buddha, uttered this stanza:-- [400]
As one with care a pot of oil will bear,
Full to the brim, that none may overflow,
So he who forth to foreign lands doth fare
O’er his own heart like governaunce should shew.
[401] When the Master had thus led up to the highest point of instruction, which
is Arahatship, he identified the Birth by saying, "The Buddha's disciples were
in those days the king's courtiers, and I the prince that won a kingdom."
Footnotes
232:1 This is the general style in the canon of the wife of Goiania the Buddha.
Cf. Oldenberg's Vinaya, Vol. I. page 82, and the translation in Sacred Books of
the East, Vol. XIII. p. 208. It is not however correct to say that the Vinaya
passage is "the only passage in the Pāli Piṭakas which mentions this lady." For
she is mentioned in the Buddhavaṃsa (P. T. S. edition, page 65), and her name is
there given as Bhaddakaccā.
232:2 It is not yet known where this Sutta occurs. A Pāli summary of it has been
left untranslated, as adding little or nothing to the above 'Introductory
Story.'
236:1 Cf. Milinda-pañho 359 for an exposition of the limited prerogative of
kings.
Next: No. 97. Nāmasiddhi-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Mahasudassana Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 95. Mahāsudassana-Jātaka
No. 95.
MAHĀSUDASSANA-JĀTAKA.
"How transient."--This story was told by the Master as he lay on his death-bed,
concerning Ānanda's words, "O Blessed One, suffer not your end to be in this
sorry little town."
"When the Buddha was dwelling at Jetavana," thought the Master, "the Elder
Sāriputta 1, who was born in Nāla village, died at Varaka in the month of
Kattika, when the moon was at the full; and in the selfsame month, when the
p. 231
moon was on the wane, the great Moggallāna died 1. My two chief disciples being
dead, I too will pass away, in Kusinārā."--So thought the Blessed One; and
coming in his alms-pilgrimage to Kusinārā, there upon the Northward bench
between the twin Sāl-trees he lay down never to rise again. Then said the Elder
Ānanda, "O Blessed One, suffer not your end to be in this sorry little town,
this rough little town in the jungle, this little suburban town. Shall not
Rājagaha or some other large city be the death-place of the Buddha?"
"Nay, Ānanda," said the Master; "call not this a sorry little town, a little
town in the jungle, a little suburban town. In bygone days, in the days of
Sudassana's universal monarchy, it was in this town that I had my dwelling. It
was then a mighty city encompassed by jewelled walls [392] twelve leagues
round." Therewithal, at the Elder's request, he told this story of the past and
uttered the Mahā-Sudassana Sutta 2.
_____________________________
Then it was that Sudassana's queen Subhaddā marked how, after coming down from
the Palace of Truth, her lord was lying hard by on his right side on the couch
prepared for him in the Palm-grove 3 which was all of gold and jewels,--that
couch from which he was not to rise again. And she said, "Eighty-four thousand
cities, chief of which is the royal-city of Kusāvatī, own your sovereignty,
sire. Set your heart on them."
"Say not so, my queen," said Sudassana; "rather exhort me, saying, 'Keep your
heart set on this town, and yearn not after those others'."
"Why so, my lord?"
"Because I shall die to-day," answered the king.
In tears, wiping her streaming eyes, the queen managed to sob out the words the
king bade her say. Then she broke into weeping and lamentation; and the other
women of the harem, to the number of eighty-four thousand, also wept and wailed;
nor could any of the courtiers forbear, but all alike joined in one universal
lament.
"Peace!" said the Bodhisatta; and at his word their lamentation was stilled.
Then, turning to the queen, he said,--"Weep not, my queen, nor wail. For, even
down to a tiny seed of sesamum, there is no such thing as a compound thing which
is permanent; all are transient, all must break up." Then, for the queen's
behoof, he uttered this stanza:--
How transient are all component things!
Growth is their nature and decay:
They are produced, they are dissolved again:
And then is best,--when they have sunk to rest 4.
p. 232
[393] Thus did the great Sudassana lead his discourse up to ambrosial Nirvana as
its goal. Moreover, to the rest of the multitude he gave the exhortation to be
charitable, to obey the Commandments, and to keep hallowed the fast days. The
destiny be won was to be re-born thereafter in the Realm of Devas.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "The mother of
Rāhula 1 was the Queen Subhaddā of those days; Rāhula was the King's eldest son;
the disciples of the Buddha were his courtiers; and I myself the great
Sudassana."
[Note. For the evolution of this Jātaka, see the Mahā-parinibbāna Sutta and the
Mahā-Sudassana Sutta, translated by Prof. Rhys Davids in his volume of "Buddhist
Suttas."]
Footnotes
230:1 For the death of Sāriputta, see Bigandet's 'Legend of the Burmese Buddha.'
231:1 For the death of Moggallāna, see Fausböll's Dhammapada, p. 298, and
Bigandet, op. cit.
231:2 The 17th Sutta of the Dīgha Nikāya, translated by Rhys Davids in Vol. XI.
of the S. B. E.
231:3 See pp. 267 and 277 of Vol. XI. of the S. B. E. for this palm-grove.
231:4 This translation is borrowed from the Hibbert Lectures of Prof. Rhys
Davids (2nd edition, p. 212), where a translation is given of the commentary on
these "perhaps the most frequently quoted and most popular verses in Pāli
Buddhist books."
Next: No. 96. Telapatta-Jātaka
No. 95.
MAHĀSUDASSANA-JĀTAKA.
"How transient."--This story was told by the Master as he lay on his death-bed,
concerning Ānanda's words, "O Blessed One, suffer not your end to be in this
sorry little town."
"When the Buddha was dwelling at Jetavana," thought the Master, "the Elder
Sāriputta 1, who was born in Nāla village, died at Varaka in the month of
Kattika, when the moon was at the full; and in the selfsame month, when the
p. 231
moon was on the wane, the great Moggallāna died 1. My two chief disciples being
dead, I too will pass away, in Kusinārā."--So thought the Blessed One; and
coming in his alms-pilgrimage to Kusinārā, there upon the Northward bench
between the twin Sāl-trees he lay down never to rise again. Then said the Elder
Ānanda, "O Blessed One, suffer not your end to be in this sorry little town,
this rough little town in the jungle, this little suburban town. Shall not
Rājagaha or some other large city be the death-place of the Buddha?"
"Nay, Ānanda," said the Master; "call not this a sorry little town, a little
town in the jungle, a little suburban town. In bygone days, in the days of
Sudassana's universal monarchy, it was in this town that I had my dwelling. It
was then a mighty city encompassed by jewelled walls [392] twelve leagues
round." Therewithal, at the Elder's request, he told this story of the past and
uttered the Mahā-Sudassana Sutta 2.
_____________________________
Then it was that Sudassana's queen Subhaddā marked how, after coming down from
the Palace of Truth, her lord was lying hard by on his right side on the couch
prepared for him in the Palm-grove 3 which was all of gold and jewels,--that
couch from which he was not to rise again. And she said, "Eighty-four thousand
cities, chief of which is the royal-city of Kusāvatī, own your sovereignty,
sire. Set your heart on them."
"Say not so, my queen," said Sudassana; "rather exhort me, saying, 'Keep your
heart set on this town, and yearn not after those others'."
"Why so, my lord?"
"Because I shall die to-day," answered the king.
In tears, wiping her streaming eyes, the queen managed to sob out the words the
king bade her say. Then she broke into weeping and lamentation; and the other
women of the harem, to the number of eighty-four thousand, also wept and wailed;
nor could any of the courtiers forbear, but all alike joined in one universal
lament.
"Peace!" said the Bodhisatta; and at his word their lamentation was stilled.
Then, turning to the queen, he said,--"Weep not, my queen, nor wail. For, even
down to a tiny seed of sesamum, there is no such thing as a compound thing which
is permanent; all are transient, all must break up." Then, for the queen's
behoof, he uttered this stanza:--
How transient are all component things!
Growth is their nature and decay:
They are produced, they are dissolved again:
And then is best,--when they have sunk to rest 4.
p. 232
[393] Thus did the great Sudassana lead his discourse up to ambrosial Nirvana as
its goal. Moreover, to the rest of the multitude he gave the exhortation to be
charitable, to obey the Commandments, and to keep hallowed the fast days. The
destiny be won was to be re-born thereafter in the Realm of Devas.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "The mother of
Rāhula 1 was the Queen Subhaddā of those days; Rāhula was the King's eldest son;
the disciples of the Buddha were his courtiers; and I myself the great
Sudassana."
[Note. For the evolution of this Jātaka, see the Mahā-parinibbāna Sutta and the
Mahā-Sudassana Sutta, translated by Prof. Rhys Davids in his volume of "Buddhist
Suttas."]
Footnotes
230:1 For the death of Sāriputta, see Bigandet's 'Legend of the Burmese Buddha.'
231:1 For the death of Moggallāna, see Fausböll's Dhammapada, p. 298, and
Bigandet, op. cit.
231:2 The 17th Sutta of the Dīgha Nikāya, translated by Rhys Davids in Vol. XI.
of the S. B. E.
231:3 See pp. 267 and 277 of Vol. XI. of the S. B. E. for this palm-grove.
231:4 This translation is borrowed from the Hibbert Lectures of Prof. Rhys
Davids (2nd edition, p. 212), where a translation is given of the commentary on
these "perhaps the most frequently quoted and most popular verses in Pāli
Buddhist books."
Next: No. 96. Telapatta-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Lomahamsa Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 94. Lomahaṁsa-Jātaka
p. 229
No. 94.
LOMAHAṀSA-JĀTAKA.
"Now scorched."--This story the Master told while at Pāṭikārāma near Vesāli,
about Sunakkhatta.
For at that time Sunakkhatta, having become an adherent of the Master, was
travelling about the country as a Brother with bowl and robes, when he was
perverted to the tenets of Kora the Kshatriya 1. So he returned to the Blessed
Buddha his bowl and robes-and reverted to a lay life by reason of Kora the
Kshatriya, about the time when this latter had been re-born as the offspring of
the Kālakañjaka Asura. And he went about within the three walls of Vesāli
defaming the Master by affirming that there was nothing superhuman about the
sage Gotama, who was not distinguished from other men by preaching a saving
faith; that the sage Gotama had simply worked out a system which was the outcome
of his own individual thought and study; and that the ideal for the attainment
of which his doctrine was preached, did not lead to the destruction of sorrow in
those who followed it 2.
Now the reverend Sāriputta was on his round for alms when he heard Sunakkhatta's
blasphemies; and on his return from his round he reported this to the Blessed
One. Said the Master, "Sunakkhatta is a hot-headed person, Sāriputta, and speaks
idle words. His hot-headedness has led him to talk like this and to deny the
saving grace of my doctrine. Unwittingly, this foolish person is extolling me; I
say unwittingly, for he has no knowledge [390] of my efficacy. In me, Sāriputta,
dwell the Six Knowledges, and herein am more than human; the Ten Powers are
within me, and the Four Grounds of Confidence. I know the limits of the four
types of earthly existence and the five states of possible re-birth after
earthly death. This too is a superhuman quality in me; and whose denies it must
retract his words, change his belief, and renounce his heresy, or he will
without ado be cast into hell." Having thus magnified the superhuman nature and
power which existed within him, the Master went on to say, "Sunakkhatta, I hear,
Sāriputta, took delight in the misguided self-mortifications of the asceticism
of Kora the Kshatriya; and therefore it was that he could take no pleasure in
me. Ninety-one aeons ago I lived the higher life in ail its four forms 3,
examining into that false asceticism to discover whether the truth abode
therein. An ascetic was I, the chief of ascetics; worn and emaciated was I,
beyond all others; loathing of comfort had I, a loathing surpassing that of all
others; I dwelt apart, and unapproachable was my passion for solitude." Then, at
the Elder's request, he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time, ninety-one æons ago, the Bodhisatta set himself to examine into
the false asceticism. So he became a recluse, according to the Naked Ascetics
(Ājīvikas),--unclothed and covered with dust, solitary and lonely, fleeing like
a deer from the face of men; his food was small
p. 230
fish, cowdung, and other refuse; and in order that his vigil might not be
disturbed, he took up his abode in a dread thicket in the jungle. In the snows
of winter, he came forth by night from the sheltering thicket to the open air,
returning with the sun-rise to his thicket again; and, as he was wet with the
driving snows by night, so in the day time he was drenched by the drizzle from
the branches of the thicket. Thus day and night alike he endured the extremity
of cold. In summer, he abode by day in the open air, and by night in the
forest--scorched by the blazing sun by day, and fanned by no cooling breezes by
night, so that the sweat streamed from him. And there presented itself to his
mind this stanza, which was new and never uttered before:--
Now scorched, now frore, lone in the lonesome woods,
Beside no fire, but all afire within,
Naked, the hermit wrestles for the Truth.
[391] But when after a life spent in the rigours of this asceticism, the vision
of hell rose before the Bodhisatta as he lay dying, he realised the
worthlessness of all his austerities, and in that supreme moment broke away from
his delusions, laid hold of the real truth, and was re-born in the Heaven of
Devas.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "I was the naked
ascetic of those days."
[Note. For the 'story of the past'? cf. Cariyā Piṭaka, p. 102. For the
introductory story see Sutta No. 12 of the Majjhima Nikāya.]
Footnotes
229:1 See Hardy's Manual of Budhism, p. 330.
229:2 This is a quotation from the Majjhima Nikāya I. 68.
229:3 i.e. as a learner, householder, réligieux, and recluse.
Next: No. 95. Mahāsudassana-Jātaka
p. 229
No. 94.
LOMAHAṀSA-JĀTAKA.
"Now scorched."--This story the Master told while at Pāṭikārāma near Vesāli,
about Sunakkhatta.
For at that time Sunakkhatta, having become an adherent of the Master, was
travelling about the country as a Brother with bowl and robes, when he was
perverted to the tenets of Kora the Kshatriya 1. So he returned to the Blessed
Buddha his bowl and robes-and reverted to a lay life by reason of Kora the
Kshatriya, about the time when this latter had been re-born as the offspring of
the Kālakañjaka Asura. And he went about within the three walls of Vesāli
defaming the Master by affirming that there was nothing superhuman about the
sage Gotama, who was not distinguished from other men by preaching a saving
faith; that the sage Gotama had simply worked out a system which was the outcome
of his own individual thought and study; and that the ideal for the attainment
of which his doctrine was preached, did not lead to the destruction of sorrow in
those who followed it 2.
Now the reverend Sāriputta was on his round for alms when he heard Sunakkhatta's
blasphemies; and on his return from his round he reported this to the Blessed
One. Said the Master, "Sunakkhatta is a hot-headed person, Sāriputta, and speaks
idle words. His hot-headedness has led him to talk like this and to deny the
saving grace of my doctrine. Unwittingly, this foolish person is extolling me; I
say unwittingly, for he has no knowledge [390] of my efficacy. In me, Sāriputta,
dwell the Six Knowledges, and herein am more than human; the Ten Powers are
within me, and the Four Grounds of Confidence. I know the limits of the four
types of earthly existence and the five states of possible re-birth after
earthly death. This too is a superhuman quality in me; and whose denies it must
retract his words, change his belief, and renounce his heresy, or he will
without ado be cast into hell." Having thus magnified the superhuman nature and
power which existed within him, the Master went on to say, "Sunakkhatta, I hear,
Sāriputta, took delight in the misguided self-mortifications of the asceticism
of Kora the Kshatriya; and therefore it was that he could take no pleasure in
me. Ninety-one aeons ago I lived the higher life in ail its four forms 3,
examining into that false asceticism to discover whether the truth abode
therein. An ascetic was I, the chief of ascetics; worn and emaciated was I,
beyond all others; loathing of comfort had I, a loathing surpassing that of all
others; I dwelt apart, and unapproachable was my passion for solitude." Then, at
the Elder's request, he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time, ninety-one æons ago, the Bodhisatta set himself to examine into
the false asceticism. So he became a recluse, according to the Naked Ascetics
(Ājīvikas),--unclothed and covered with dust, solitary and lonely, fleeing like
a deer from the face of men; his food was small
p. 230
fish, cowdung, and other refuse; and in order that his vigil might not be
disturbed, he took up his abode in a dread thicket in the jungle. In the snows
of winter, he came forth by night from the sheltering thicket to the open air,
returning with the sun-rise to his thicket again; and, as he was wet with the
driving snows by night, so in the day time he was drenched by the drizzle from
the branches of the thicket. Thus day and night alike he endured the extremity
of cold. In summer, he abode by day in the open air, and by night in the
forest--scorched by the blazing sun by day, and fanned by no cooling breezes by
night, so that the sweat streamed from him. And there presented itself to his
mind this stanza, which was new and never uttered before:--
Now scorched, now frore, lone in the lonesome woods,
Beside no fire, but all afire within,
Naked, the hermit wrestles for the Truth.
[391] But when after a life spent in the rigours of this asceticism, the vision
of hell rose before the Bodhisatta as he lay dying, he realised the
worthlessness of all his austerities, and in that supreme moment broke away from
his delusions, laid hold of the real truth, and was re-born in the Heaven of
Devas.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "I was the naked
ascetic of those days."
[Note. For the 'story of the past'? cf. Cariyā Piṭaka, p. 102. For the
introductory story see Sutta No. 12 of the Majjhima Nikāya.]
Footnotes
229:1 See Hardy's Manual of Budhism, p. 330.
229:2 This is a quotation from the Majjhima Nikāya I. 68.
229:3 i.e. as a learner, householder, réligieux, and recluse.
Next: No. 95. Mahāsudassana-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Vissasabhojana Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 93. Vissāsabhojana-Jātaka
No. 93.
VISSĀSABHOJANA-JĀTAKA.
"Trust not the trusted." This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana,
about taking things on trust.
Tradition tells us that in those days the Brethren, for the most part, used to
rest content if anything was given them by their mothers or fathers, brothers or
sisters, or uncles or aunts, or other kinsfolk. Arguing that in their lay state
they had as a matter of course received things from the same hands, they, as
Brethren,
p. 228
likewise shewed no circumspection or caution before using food, clothing and
other requisites which their relations gave them. Observing this the Master felt
that he must read the Brethren a lesson. So he called them together, and said,
"Brethren, no matter whether [388] the giver be a relation or not, let
circumspection accompany use. The Brother who without circumspection uses the
requisites which are given to him, may entail on himself a subsequent existence
as an ogre or as a ghost. Use without circumspection is like unto taking poison;
and poison kills just the same, whether it be given by a relative or by a
stranger. There were those who in bygone days actually did take poison because
it was offered by those near and dear to them, and thereby they met their end."
So saying, he told the following story of the past.
_____________________________
Once upon a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was a
very wealthy merchant. He had a herdsman who, when the corn was growing thick,
drove his cows to the forest and kept them there at a shieling, bringing the
produce from time to time to the merchant. Now hard by the shieling in the
forest there dwelt a lion; and so afraid of the lion were the cows that they
gave but little milk. So when the herdsman brought in his ghee one day, the
merchant asked why there was so little of it. Then the herdsman told him the
reason. "Well, has the lion formed an attachment to anything?" "Yes, master;
he's fond of a doe." "Could you catch that doe?" "Yes, master." "Well, catch
her, and rub her all over with poison and sugar, and let her dry. Keep her a day
or two, and then turn her loose. Because of his affection for her, the lion will
lick her all over with his tongue, and die. Take his hide with the claws and
teeth and fat, and bring them back to me." So saying, he gave deadly poison to
the herdsman and sent him off. With the aid of a net which he made, the herdsman
caught the doe and carried out the Bodhisatta's orders.
As soon as he saw the doe again, the lion, in his great love for her, licked her
with his tongue so that he died. And the herdsman took the lion's hide and the
rest, and brought them to the Bodhisatta, who said, "Affection for others should
be eschewed. Mark how, for all his strength, the king of beasts, the lion, was
led by his sinful love for a doe to poison himself by licking her and so to
die." So saying, he uttered this stanza for the instruction of those gathered
around:--
[389] Trust not the trusted, nor th’ untrusted trust;
Trust kills; through trust the lion bit the dust.
Such was the lesson which the Bodhisatta taught to those around him. After a
life spent in charity and other good works, he passed away to fare according to
his deserts.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "I was the merchant
of those days."
[Note. Cf. Böhtlingk's "Indische Sprüche," (1st ed.) Nos. 1465-7 and 4346.]
Next: No. 94. Lomahaṁsa-Jātaka
No. 93.
VISSĀSABHOJANA-JĀTAKA.
"Trust not the trusted." This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana,
about taking things on trust.
Tradition tells us that in those days the Brethren, for the most part, used to
rest content if anything was given them by their mothers or fathers, brothers or
sisters, or uncles or aunts, or other kinsfolk. Arguing that in their lay state
they had as a matter of course received things from the same hands, they, as
Brethren,
p. 228
likewise shewed no circumspection or caution before using food, clothing and
other requisites which their relations gave them. Observing this the Master felt
that he must read the Brethren a lesson. So he called them together, and said,
"Brethren, no matter whether [388] the giver be a relation or not, let
circumspection accompany use. The Brother who without circumspection uses the
requisites which are given to him, may entail on himself a subsequent existence
as an ogre or as a ghost. Use without circumspection is like unto taking poison;
and poison kills just the same, whether it be given by a relative or by a
stranger. There were those who in bygone days actually did take poison because
it was offered by those near and dear to them, and thereby they met their end."
So saying, he told the following story of the past.
_____________________________
Once upon a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was a
very wealthy merchant. He had a herdsman who, when the corn was growing thick,
drove his cows to the forest and kept them there at a shieling, bringing the
produce from time to time to the merchant. Now hard by the shieling in the
forest there dwelt a lion; and so afraid of the lion were the cows that they
gave but little milk. So when the herdsman brought in his ghee one day, the
merchant asked why there was so little of it. Then the herdsman told him the
reason. "Well, has the lion formed an attachment to anything?" "Yes, master;
he's fond of a doe." "Could you catch that doe?" "Yes, master." "Well, catch
her, and rub her all over with poison and sugar, and let her dry. Keep her a day
or two, and then turn her loose. Because of his affection for her, the lion will
lick her all over with his tongue, and die. Take his hide with the claws and
teeth and fat, and bring them back to me." So saying, he gave deadly poison to
the herdsman and sent him off. With the aid of a net which he made, the herdsman
caught the doe and carried out the Bodhisatta's orders.
As soon as he saw the doe again, the lion, in his great love for her, licked her
with his tongue so that he died. And the herdsman took the lion's hide and the
rest, and brought them to the Bodhisatta, who said, "Affection for others should
be eschewed. Mark how, for all his strength, the king of beasts, the lion, was
led by his sinful love for a doe to poison himself by licking her and so to
die." So saying, he uttered this stanza for the instruction of those gathered
around:--
[389] Trust not the trusted, nor th’ untrusted trust;
Trust kills; through trust the lion bit the dust.
Such was the lesson which the Bodhisatta taught to those around him. After a
life spent in charity and other good works, he passed away to fare according to
his deserts.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "I was the merchant
of those days."
[Note. Cf. Böhtlingk's "Indische Sprüche," (1st ed.) Nos. 1465-7 and 4346.]
Next: No. 94. Lomahaṁsa-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Mahasara Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 92. Mahāsāra-Jātaka
No. 92.
[381] MAHĀSĀRA-JĀTAKA.
"For war men crave."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, about
the venerable Ānanda.
Once the wives of the King of Kosala thought among themselves, as follows, "Very
rare is the coming of a Buddha; and very rare is birth in a human form with all
one's faculties in perfection. Yet, though we have happened on a human form in a
Buddha's lifetime, we cannot go at will to the Monastery to hear the
p. 223
truth from his own lips, to do obeisance, and to make offerings to him. We live
here as in a box. Let us ask the King to send for a fitting Brother to come here
and teach us the truth. Let us learn what we can from him, and he charitable and
do good works, to the end that we may profit by our having been born at this
happy juncture." So they all went in a body to the King, and told him what was
in their minds; and the King gave his consent.
Now it fell out on a day that the King was minded to take his pleasure in the
royal pleasaunce, and gave orders that the grounds should be made ready for his
coming. As the gardener was working away, he espied the Master seated at the
foot of a tree. So he went to the King and said, "The pleasaunce is made ready,
sire; but the Blessed One is sitting there at the foot of a tree." "Very good,"
said the King, "we will go and hear the Master." Mounting his chariot of state,
he went to the Master in the pleasaunce.
Now there was then seated at the Master's feet, listening to his teaching, a
lay-brother named Chattapāṇi, who had entered the Third Path. On catching sight
of this lay-brother, the King hesitated; but, on reflection that this must be a
virtuous man, or he would not be sitting by the Master for instruction, he
approached and with a bow seated himself on one side of the Master. Out of
reverence for the supreme Buddha, the lay-brother neither rose in the King's
honour nor saluted his majesty; and this made the King very angry. Noticing the
King's displeasure, the Master proceeded to extol the merits of that
lay-brother, saying, "Sire, this lay-brother is master of all tradition; he
knows by heart the scriptures that have been handed down; and he has set himself
free from the bondage of passion." "Surely," thought the King, "he whose praises
the Master is telling can be no ordinary person." And he said to him, "Let me
know, lay-brother, if you are in need of anything." "Thank you," said the man.
Then the King listened to the Master's teaching, and at its close rose up and
ceremoniously withdrew.
Another day, meeting that same lay-brother going after breakfast umbrella in
hand to Jetavana, the King had him summoned to his presence and said, "I hear,
lay-brother, that you are a man of great learning. Now my wives are very anxious
to hear and learn the truth; I should be glad if you would teach them." "It is
not meet, sire, that a layman [382] should expound or teach the truth in the
King's harem; that is the prerogative of the Brethren."
Recognising the force of this remark, the King, after dismissing the layman,
called his wives together and announced to them his intention of sending to the
Master for, one of the Brethren to come as their instructor in the doctrine.
Which of the eighty chief disciples would they have? After talking it over
together, the ladies with one accord chose Ānanda 1 the Elder, surnamed the
Treasurer of the Faith. So the King went to the Master and with a courteous
greeting sat down by his side, after which he proceeded to state his wives'
wish, and his own hope, that Ānanda might be their teacher. The Master, having
consented to send Ānanda, the King's wives now began to be regularly taught by
the Elder and to learn from him.
One day the jewel out of the King's turban was missing. When the King heard of
the loss he sent for his ministers and bade them seize everyone who had access
to the precincts and find the jewel. So the Ministers searched everybody, women
and all, for the missing jewel, till they had worried everybody almost out of
their lives; but no trace of it could they find. That day Ānanda came to the
palace, only to find the King's wives as dejected as they had hitherto been
delighted when he taught them. "What has made you like this to-day?" asked the
Elder. "Oh, sir," said they, "the King has lost the jewel out of his turban; and
by his orders the ministers are worrying everybody, women and all, out of their
lives, in order to find it. We can't say what may not happen to anyone of us;
and that is why we are so sad." "Don't think
p. 224
any more about it," said the Elder cheerily, as he went to find the King. Taking
the seat set for him, the Elder asked whether it was true that his majesty had
lost his jewel. "Quite true, sir," said the King. "And can it not be found?" "I
have had all the inmates of the palaces worried out of their lives, and yet I
can't find it." "There is one way, sire, to find it, without worrying people out
of their lives." "What way is that, sir?" "By wisp-giving, sire." "Wisp-giving?
What may that be, pray?" "Call together, sire, all the persons you suspect, and
privately give each one of them separately a wisp of straw, or a lump of clay
will do, saying, 'Take this and put it in such and such a place to-morrow at
daybreak.' The man that took the jewel will put it in the straw or clay, and so
bring it back. If it be brought back the very first day, well and good. If not,
the same thing must be done on the second and third clays. In this way, a large
number of persons will escape worry, and you will get your jewel back." With
these words the Elder departed.
Following the above counsel, the King caused the straw and clay to be dealt out
for three successive days; but yet the jewel was not recovered. [383] On the
third day the Elder came again, and asked whether the jewel had been brought
back. "No, sir," said the King. "Then, sire, you must have a large water-pot set
in a retired corner of your courtyard, and you must have the pot filled with
water and a screen put up before it. Then give orders that all who frequent the
precincts, men and women alike, are to put off their outer-garments, and one by
one wash their hands behind the screen and then come back." With this advice the
Elder departed. And the King did as he bade.
Thought the thief, "Ānanda has seriously taken the matter in hand; and, if he
does not find the jewel, he'll not let things rest here. The time has really
come to give the jewel up without more ado." So he secreted the jewel about his
person, and going behind the screen, dropped it in the water before he went
away. When everyone had gone, the pot was emptied, and the jewel found. "It's
all owing to the Elder," exclaimed the King in his joy, "that I have got my
jewel back, and that without worrying a host of people out of their lives." And
all the persons about the precincts were equally grateful to Ānanda for the
trouble he had saved them from. The story how Ānanda's marvellous powers had
found the jewel, spread through all the city, till it reached the Brotherhood.
Said the Brethren, "The great knowledge, learning, and cleverness of the Elder
Ānanda have been the means at once of recovering the lost jewel and of saving
many persons from being worried out of their lives." And as they sate together
in the Hall of Truth, singing the praises of Ānanda, the Master entered and
asked the subject of their conversation. Being told, he said, "Brethren, this is
not the first time that what had been stolen has been found, nor is Ānanda the
only one who has brought about such a discovery. In bygone days too the wise and
good discovered what had been stolen away, and also saved a host of people from
trouble, sheaving that the lost property had fallen into the hands of animals."
So saying, he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta, having
perfected his education, became one of the King's ministers. One day the King
with a large following went into his pleasaunce, and, after walking about the
woods, felt a desire to disport himself in the water. So he went down into the
royal tank and sent for his harem. The women of the harem, removing the jewels
from their heads and necks and so forth, laid them aside with their upper
garments in boxes under the charge of female slaves, and then went down into
p. 225
the water. Now, as the queen was taking off her jewels and ornaments, and laying
them with her upper robe on a box, she was watched by a female monkey, which was
hidden in the branches of a tree hard by. Conceiving a longing to wear the
queen's pearl necklace, this monkey watched for the slave in charge to be off
her guard. At first the girl kept looking all about her in order to keep the
jewels [384] safe; but as time wore on, she began to nod. As soon as the monkey
saw this, quick as the wind she jumped down, and quick as the wind she was up
the tree again, with the pearls round her own neck. Then, for fear the other
monkeys should see it, she hid the string of pearls in a hole in the tree and
sat on guard over her spoils as demurely as though nothing had happened. By and
by the slave awoke, and, terrified at finding the jewels gone, saw nothing else
to do but to scream out, "A man has run off with the queen's pearl necklace." Up
ran the guards from every side, and hearing this story fold it to the King.
"Catch the thief," said his majesty; and away went the guards searching high and
low for the thief in the pleasaunce. Hearing the din, a poor superstitious
rustic 1 took to his heels in alarm. "There he goes," cried the guards, catching
sight of the runaway; and they followed him up till they caught him, and with
blows demanded what he meant by stealing such precious jewels.
Thought he, "If I deny the charge, I shall die with the beating I shall get from
these ruffians. I'd better say I took it." So he confessed to the theft and was
hauled off a prisoner to the King. "Did you take those precious jewels?" asked
the King. "Yes, your majesty." "Where are they now?" "Please your majesty, I'm a
poor man; I've never in my life owned anything, even a bed or a chair, of any
value,--much less a jewel. It was the Treasurer who made me take that valuable
necklace; and I took it and gave it to him. He knows all about it."
Then the King sent for the Treasurer, and asked whether the rustic had passed
the necklace on to him. "Yes, sire," was the answer. "Where is it then?" "I gave
it to your majesty's Chaplain." Then the Chaplain was sent for, and interrogated
in the same way. And he said he had given it to the Chief Musician, who in his
turn said he had given it to a courtesan [385] as a present. But she, being
brought before the King, utterly denied ever having received it.
Whilst the five were thus being questioned, the sun set. "It's too late now,"
said the King; "we will look into this to-morrow." So he handed the five over to
his ministers and went back into the city. Here-upon the Bodhisatta fell
a-thinking. "These jewels," thought he, "were lost inside the grounds, whilst
the rustic was outside. There was a strong guard at the gates, and it was
impossible for anyone inside to get away
p. 226
with the necklace. I do not see how anyone, whether inside or out, could have
managed to secure it. The truth is this poor wretched fellow must have said he
gave it to the Treasurer merely in order to save his own skin; and the Treasurer
must have said he gave it to the Chaplain, in the hope that he would get off if
he could mix the Chaplain up. in the matter. Further, the Chaplain must have
said he gave it to the Chief Musician, because he thought the latter would make
the time pass merrily in prison; whilst the Chief Musician's object in
implicating the courtesan, was simply to solace himself with her company during
imprisonment. Not one of the whole five has anything to do with the theft. On
the other hand, the grounds swarm with monkeys, and the necklace must have got
into the hands of one of the female monkeys."
When he had arrived at this conclusion, the Bodhisatta went to the King with the
request that the suspects might be handed over to him and that he might be
allowed to examine personally into the matter. "By all means, my wise friend,"
said the King; "examine into it."
Then the Bodhisatta sent for his servants and told them where to lodge the five
prisoners, saying, "Keep strict watch over them; listen to everything they say,
and report it all to me," And his servants did as he bade them. As the prisoners
sat together, the Treasurer said to the rustic, "Tell me, you wretch, where you
and I ever met before this day; tell me when you gave me that necklace."
"Worshipful sir," said the other, "it has never been mine to own aught so
valuable even as a stool or bedstead that wasn't rickety. I thought that with
your help I should get out of this trouble, and that's why I said what I did. Be
not angry with me, my lord." Said the Chaplain [386] in his turn to the
Treasurer, "How then came you to pass on to me what this fellow had never given
to you?" "I only said so because I thought that if you and I, both high officers
of state, stand together, we can soon put the matter right." "Brahmin," now said
the Chief Musician to the Chaplain, "when, pray, did you give the jewel to me?"
"I only said I did," answered the Chaplain, "because I thought you would help to
make the time pass more agreeably." Lastly the courtesan said, "Oh, you wretch
of a musician, you know you never visited me, nor I you. So when could you have
given me the necklace, as you say?" "Why be angry, my dear?" said the Musician,
"we five have got to keep house together for a bit; so let us put a cheerful
face on it and be happy together."
This conversation being reported to the Bodhisatta by his agents, he felt
convinced the five were all innocent of the robbery, and that a female monkey
had taken the necklace. "And I must find a means to make her drop it," said he
to himself. So he had a number of bead necklaces made. Next he had a number of
monkeys caught and turned loose again, with strings of beads on their necks,
wrists and ancles. Meantime, the guilty
p. 227
monkey kept sitting in the trees watching her treasure. Then the Bodhisatta
ordered a number of men to carefully observe every monkey in the grounds, till
they saw one wearing the missing pearl necklace, and then frighten her into
dropping it.
Tricked out in their new splendour, the other monkeys strutted about till they
came to the real thief, before whom they flaunted their finery. Jealousy
overcoming her prudence, she exclaimed, "They're only beads!" and put on her own
necklace of real pearls. This was at once seen by the watchers, who promptly
made her drop the necklace, which they picked up and brought to the Bodhisatta.
He took it to the King, saying, "Here, sire, is the necklace. The five prisoners
are innocent; it was a female monkey in the pleasaunce that took it." "How came
you to find that out?" asked the King; "and how did you manage to get possession
of it again?" Then the Bodhisatta told the whole story, and the King thanked
[387] the Bodhisatta, saying, "You are the right man in the right place." And he
uttered this stanza in praise of the Bodhisatta:--
For war men crave the hero's might,
For counsel sage sobriety,
Boon comrades for their jollity,
But judgment when in parlous plight.
[paragraph continues] Over and above these words of praise and gratitude, the
King showered treasures upon the Bodhisatta like a storm-cloud pouring rain from
the heavens. After following the Bodhisatta's counsels through a long life spent
in charity and good works, the King passed away to fare thereafter according to
his deserts.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master, after extolling the Elder's merits, identified the
Birth by saying, "Ānanda was the King of those clays and I his wise counsellor."
Footnotes
223:1 Ānanda held 'advanced views on the woman question.' It was he who
persuaded the reluctant Buddha into admitting women to the Order, as recorded in
the Vinaya (S. B. E. XX, 320 et seqq.).
225:1 Or perhaps "a taxpaying ryot."
Next: No. 93. Vissāsabhojana-Jātaka
No. 92.
[381] MAHĀSĀRA-JĀTAKA.
"For war men crave."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, about
the venerable Ānanda.
Once the wives of the King of Kosala thought among themselves, as follows, "Very
rare is the coming of a Buddha; and very rare is birth in a human form with all
one's faculties in perfection. Yet, though we have happened on a human form in a
Buddha's lifetime, we cannot go at will to the Monastery to hear the
p. 223
truth from his own lips, to do obeisance, and to make offerings to him. We live
here as in a box. Let us ask the King to send for a fitting Brother to come here
and teach us the truth. Let us learn what we can from him, and he charitable and
do good works, to the end that we may profit by our having been born at this
happy juncture." So they all went in a body to the King, and told him what was
in their minds; and the King gave his consent.
Now it fell out on a day that the King was minded to take his pleasure in the
royal pleasaunce, and gave orders that the grounds should be made ready for his
coming. As the gardener was working away, he espied the Master seated at the
foot of a tree. So he went to the King and said, "The pleasaunce is made ready,
sire; but the Blessed One is sitting there at the foot of a tree." "Very good,"
said the King, "we will go and hear the Master." Mounting his chariot of state,
he went to the Master in the pleasaunce.
Now there was then seated at the Master's feet, listening to his teaching, a
lay-brother named Chattapāṇi, who had entered the Third Path. On catching sight
of this lay-brother, the King hesitated; but, on reflection that this must be a
virtuous man, or he would not be sitting by the Master for instruction, he
approached and with a bow seated himself on one side of the Master. Out of
reverence for the supreme Buddha, the lay-brother neither rose in the King's
honour nor saluted his majesty; and this made the King very angry. Noticing the
King's displeasure, the Master proceeded to extol the merits of that
lay-brother, saying, "Sire, this lay-brother is master of all tradition; he
knows by heart the scriptures that have been handed down; and he has set himself
free from the bondage of passion." "Surely," thought the King, "he whose praises
the Master is telling can be no ordinary person." And he said to him, "Let me
know, lay-brother, if you are in need of anything." "Thank you," said the man.
Then the King listened to the Master's teaching, and at its close rose up and
ceremoniously withdrew.
Another day, meeting that same lay-brother going after breakfast umbrella in
hand to Jetavana, the King had him summoned to his presence and said, "I hear,
lay-brother, that you are a man of great learning. Now my wives are very anxious
to hear and learn the truth; I should be glad if you would teach them." "It is
not meet, sire, that a layman [382] should expound or teach the truth in the
King's harem; that is the prerogative of the Brethren."
Recognising the force of this remark, the King, after dismissing the layman,
called his wives together and announced to them his intention of sending to the
Master for, one of the Brethren to come as their instructor in the doctrine.
Which of the eighty chief disciples would they have? After talking it over
together, the ladies with one accord chose Ānanda 1 the Elder, surnamed the
Treasurer of the Faith. So the King went to the Master and with a courteous
greeting sat down by his side, after which he proceeded to state his wives'
wish, and his own hope, that Ānanda might be their teacher. The Master, having
consented to send Ānanda, the King's wives now began to be regularly taught by
the Elder and to learn from him.
One day the jewel out of the King's turban was missing. When the King heard of
the loss he sent for his ministers and bade them seize everyone who had access
to the precincts and find the jewel. So the Ministers searched everybody, women
and all, for the missing jewel, till they had worried everybody almost out of
their lives; but no trace of it could they find. That day Ānanda came to the
palace, only to find the King's wives as dejected as they had hitherto been
delighted when he taught them. "What has made you like this to-day?" asked the
Elder. "Oh, sir," said they, "the King has lost the jewel out of his turban; and
by his orders the ministers are worrying everybody, women and all, out of their
lives, in order to find it. We can't say what may not happen to anyone of us;
and that is why we are so sad." "Don't think
p. 224
any more about it," said the Elder cheerily, as he went to find the King. Taking
the seat set for him, the Elder asked whether it was true that his majesty had
lost his jewel. "Quite true, sir," said the King. "And can it not be found?" "I
have had all the inmates of the palaces worried out of their lives, and yet I
can't find it." "There is one way, sire, to find it, without worrying people out
of their lives." "What way is that, sir?" "By wisp-giving, sire." "Wisp-giving?
What may that be, pray?" "Call together, sire, all the persons you suspect, and
privately give each one of them separately a wisp of straw, or a lump of clay
will do, saying, 'Take this and put it in such and such a place to-morrow at
daybreak.' The man that took the jewel will put it in the straw or clay, and so
bring it back. If it be brought back the very first day, well and good. If not,
the same thing must be done on the second and third clays. In this way, a large
number of persons will escape worry, and you will get your jewel back." With
these words the Elder departed.
Following the above counsel, the King caused the straw and clay to be dealt out
for three successive days; but yet the jewel was not recovered. [383] On the
third day the Elder came again, and asked whether the jewel had been brought
back. "No, sir," said the King. "Then, sire, you must have a large water-pot set
in a retired corner of your courtyard, and you must have the pot filled with
water and a screen put up before it. Then give orders that all who frequent the
precincts, men and women alike, are to put off their outer-garments, and one by
one wash their hands behind the screen and then come back." With this advice the
Elder departed. And the King did as he bade.
Thought the thief, "Ānanda has seriously taken the matter in hand; and, if he
does not find the jewel, he'll not let things rest here. The time has really
come to give the jewel up without more ado." So he secreted the jewel about his
person, and going behind the screen, dropped it in the water before he went
away. When everyone had gone, the pot was emptied, and the jewel found. "It's
all owing to the Elder," exclaimed the King in his joy, "that I have got my
jewel back, and that without worrying a host of people out of their lives." And
all the persons about the precincts were equally grateful to Ānanda for the
trouble he had saved them from. The story how Ānanda's marvellous powers had
found the jewel, spread through all the city, till it reached the Brotherhood.
Said the Brethren, "The great knowledge, learning, and cleverness of the Elder
Ānanda have been the means at once of recovering the lost jewel and of saving
many persons from being worried out of their lives." And as they sate together
in the Hall of Truth, singing the praises of Ānanda, the Master entered and
asked the subject of their conversation. Being told, he said, "Brethren, this is
not the first time that what had been stolen has been found, nor is Ānanda the
only one who has brought about such a discovery. In bygone days too the wise and
good discovered what had been stolen away, and also saved a host of people from
trouble, sheaving that the lost property had fallen into the hands of animals."
So saying, he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta, having
perfected his education, became one of the King's ministers. One day the King
with a large following went into his pleasaunce, and, after walking about the
woods, felt a desire to disport himself in the water. So he went down into the
royal tank and sent for his harem. The women of the harem, removing the jewels
from their heads and necks and so forth, laid them aside with their upper
garments in boxes under the charge of female slaves, and then went down into
p. 225
the water. Now, as the queen was taking off her jewels and ornaments, and laying
them with her upper robe on a box, she was watched by a female monkey, which was
hidden in the branches of a tree hard by. Conceiving a longing to wear the
queen's pearl necklace, this monkey watched for the slave in charge to be off
her guard. At first the girl kept looking all about her in order to keep the
jewels [384] safe; but as time wore on, she began to nod. As soon as the monkey
saw this, quick as the wind she jumped down, and quick as the wind she was up
the tree again, with the pearls round her own neck. Then, for fear the other
monkeys should see it, she hid the string of pearls in a hole in the tree and
sat on guard over her spoils as demurely as though nothing had happened. By and
by the slave awoke, and, terrified at finding the jewels gone, saw nothing else
to do but to scream out, "A man has run off with the queen's pearl necklace." Up
ran the guards from every side, and hearing this story fold it to the King.
"Catch the thief," said his majesty; and away went the guards searching high and
low for the thief in the pleasaunce. Hearing the din, a poor superstitious
rustic 1 took to his heels in alarm. "There he goes," cried the guards, catching
sight of the runaway; and they followed him up till they caught him, and with
blows demanded what he meant by stealing such precious jewels.
Thought he, "If I deny the charge, I shall die with the beating I shall get from
these ruffians. I'd better say I took it." So he confessed to the theft and was
hauled off a prisoner to the King. "Did you take those precious jewels?" asked
the King. "Yes, your majesty." "Where are they now?" "Please your majesty, I'm a
poor man; I've never in my life owned anything, even a bed or a chair, of any
value,--much less a jewel. It was the Treasurer who made me take that valuable
necklace; and I took it and gave it to him. He knows all about it."
Then the King sent for the Treasurer, and asked whether the rustic had passed
the necklace on to him. "Yes, sire," was the answer. "Where is it then?" "I gave
it to your majesty's Chaplain." Then the Chaplain was sent for, and interrogated
in the same way. And he said he had given it to the Chief Musician, who in his
turn said he had given it to a courtesan [385] as a present. But she, being
brought before the King, utterly denied ever having received it.
Whilst the five were thus being questioned, the sun set. "It's too late now,"
said the King; "we will look into this to-morrow." So he handed the five over to
his ministers and went back into the city. Here-upon the Bodhisatta fell
a-thinking. "These jewels," thought he, "were lost inside the grounds, whilst
the rustic was outside. There was a strong guard at the gates, and it was
impossible for anyone inside to get away
p. 226
with the necklace. I do not see how anyone, whether inside or out, could have
managed to secure it. The truth is this poor wretched fellow must have said he
gave it to the Treasurer merely in order to save his own skin; and the Treasurer
must have said he gave it to the Chaplain, in the hope that he would get off if
he could mix the Chaplain up. in the matter. Further, the Chaplain must have
said he gave it to the Chief Musician, because he thought the latter would make
the time pass merrily in prison; whilst the Chief Musician's object in
implicating the courtesan, was simply to solace himself with her company during
imprisonment. Not one of the whole five has anything to do with the theft. On
the other hand, the grounds swarm with monkeys, and the necklace must have got
into the hands of one of the female monkeys."
When he had arrived at this conclusion, the Bodhisatta went to the King with the
request that the suspects might be handed over to him and that he might be
allowed to examine personally into the matter. "By all means, my wise friend,"
said the King; "examine into it."
Then the Bodhisatta sent for his servants and told them where to lodge the five
prisoners, saying, "Keep strict watch over them; listen to everything they say,
and report it all to me," And his servants did as he bade them. As the prisoners
sat together, the Treasurer said to the rustic, "Tell me, you wretch, where you
and I ever met before this day; tell me when you gave me that necklace."
"Worshipful sir," said the other, "it has never been mine to own aught so
valuable even as a stool or bedstead that wasn't rickety. I thought that with
your help I should get out of this trouble, and that's why I said what I did. Be
not angry with me, my lord." Said the Chaplain [386] in his turn to the
Treasurer, "How then came you to pass on to me what this fellow had never given
to you?" "I only said so because I thought that if you and I, both high officers
of state, stand together, we can soon put the matter right." "Brahmin," now said
the Chief Musician to the Chaplain, "when, pray, did you give the jewel to me?"
"I only said I did," answered the Chaplain, "because I thought you would help to
make the time pass more agreeably." Lastly the courtesan said, "Oh, you wretch
of a musician, you know you never visited me, nor I you. So when could you have
given me the necklace, as you say?" "Why be angry, my dear?" said the Musician,
"we five have got to keep house together for a bit; so let us put a cheerful
face on it and be happy together."
This conversation being reported to the Bodhisatta by his agents, he felt
convinced the five were all innocent of the robbery, and that a female monkey
had taken the necklace. "And I must find a means to make her drop it," said he
to himself. So he had a number of bead necklaces made. Next he had a number of
monkeys caught and turned loose again, with strings of beads on their necks,
wrists and ancles. Meantime, the guilty
p. 227
monkey kept sitting in the trees watching her treasure. Then the Bodhisatta
ordered a number of men to carefully observe every monkey in the grounds, till
they saw one wearing the missing pearl necklace, and then frighten her into
dropping it.
Tricked out in their new splendour, the other monkeys strutted about till they
came to the real thief, before whom they flaunted their finery. Jealousy
overcoming her prudence, she exclaimed, "They're only beads!" and put on her own
necklace of real pearls. This was at once seen by the watchers, who promptly
made her drop the necklace, which they picked up and brought to the Bodhisatta.
He took it to the King, saying, "Here, sire, is the necklace. The five prisoners
are innocent; it was a female monkey in the pleasaunce that took it." "How came
you to find that out?" asked the King; "and how did you manage to get possession
of it again?" Then the Bodhisatta told the whole story, and the King thanked
[387] the Bodhisatta, saying, "You are the right man in the right place." And he
uttered this stanza in praise of the Bodhisatta:--
For war men crave the hero's might,
For counsel sage sobriety,
Boon comrades for their jollity,
But judgment when in parlous plight.
[paragraph continues] Over and above these words of praise and gratitude, the
King showered treasures upon the Bodhisatta like a storm-cloud pouring rain from
the heavens. After following the Bodhisatta's counsels through a long life spent
in charity and good works, the King passed away to fare thereafter according to
his deserts.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master, after extolling the Elder's merits, identified the
Birth by saying, "Ānanda was the King of those clays and I his wise counsellor."
Footnotes
223:1 Ānanda held 'advanced views on the woman question.' It was he who
persuaded the reluctant Buddha into admitting women to the Order, as recorded in
the Vinaya (S. B. E. XX, 320 et seqq.).
225:1 Or perhaps "a taxpaying ryot."
Next: No. 93. Vissāsabhojana-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Litta Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 91. Litta-Jātaka
No. 91.
LITTA-JĀTAKA.
"He bolts the die."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, about
using things thoughtlessly.
Tradition says that most of the Brethren of that day were in the habit of using
robes and so forth, which were given them, in a thoughtless manner. And their
thoughtless use of the Four Requisites as a rule barred their escape from the
doom of re-birth in hell and the animal world. Knowing this, the Master set
forth the lessons of virtue and showed the danger of such thoughtless use of
things, exhorting them to be careful in the use of the Four Requisites, and
laying down this rule, "The thoughtful Brother has a definite object in view
when he wears a robe, namely, to keep off the cold." After laying down similar
rules for the other Requisites, he concluded by saying, "Such is the thoughtful
use which should be made of the Four Requisites. Thoughtlessly to use them is
like taking deadly poison; and there were those in bygone days who through their
thoughtlessness did inadvertently take poison, to their exceeding hurt in due
season." 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 well-to-do family, and when he grew up, he became a dice-player. With him
used to play a sharper, who kept on playing while he was winning, but, when luck
turned, broke up the game by putting one of the dice in his mouth and pretending
it was lost,--after which he would take himself off. [380] "Very good," said the
Bodhisatta
p. 222
when he realised what was being done; "we'll look into this." So he took some
dice, anointed them at home with poison, dried them carefully, and then carried
them with him to the sharper, whom he challenged to a game. The other was
willing, the dice-board was got ready, and play began. No sooner did the sharper
begin to lose than he popped one of the dice into his mouth. Observing him in
the act, the Bodhisatta remarked, "Swallow away; you will not fail to find out
what it really is in a little time." And he uttered this stanza of rebuke:--
He bolts the die quite boldly,--knowing not
What burning poison thereon lurks unseen.
--Aye, bolt it, sharper! Soon you'll burn within.
[paragraph continues] But while the Bodhisatta was talking away, the poison
began to work on the sharper; he grew faint, rolled his eyes, and bending double
with pain fell to the ground. "Now," said the Bodhisatta, "I must save the
rascal's life." So he mixed some simples and administered an emetic until
vomiting ensued. Then he administered a draught of ghee with honey and sugar and
other ingredients, and by this means made the fellow all right again. Then he
exhorted him not to do such a thing again. 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 said, "Brethren, the thoughtless use of things is
like the thoughtless taking of deadly poison." So saying, he identified the
Birth in these words, "I was myself the wise and good gambler of those days."
(Pāli Note. "No mention is made of the sharper,--the reason being that, here as
elsewhere, no mention is made of persons who are not spoken of at this date.")
Next: No. 92. Mahāsāra-Jātaka
No. 91.
LITTA-JĀTAKA.
"He bolts the die."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, about
using things thoughtlessly.
Tradition says that most of the Brethren of that day were in the habit of using
robes and so forth, which were given them, in a thoughtless manner. And their
thoughtless use of the Four Requisites as a rule barred their escape from the
doom of re-birth in hell and the animal world. Knowing this, the Master set
forth the lessons of virtue and showed the danger of such thoughtless use of
things, exhorting them to be careful in the use of the Four Requisites, and
laying down this rule, "The thoughtful Brother has a definite object in view
when he wears a robe, namely, to keep off the cold." After laying down similar
rules for the other Requisites, he concluded by saying, "Such is the thoughtful
use which should be made of the Four Requisites. Thoughtlessly to use them is
like taking deadly poison; and there were those in bygone days who through their
thoughtlessness did inadvertently take poison, to their exceeding hurt in due
season." 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 well-to-do family, and when he grew up, he became a dice-player. With him
used to play a sharper, who kept on playing while he was winning, but, when luck
turned, broke up the game by putting one of the dice in his mouth and pretending
it was lost,--after which he would take himself off. [380] "Very good," said the
Bodhisatta
p. 222
when he realised what was being done; "we'll look into this." So he took some
dice, anointed them at home with poison, dried them carefully, and then carried
them with him to the sharper, whom he challenged to a game. The other was
willing, the dice-board was got ready, and play began. No sooner did the sharper
begin to lose than he popped one of the dice into his mouth. Observing him in
the act, the Bodhisatta remarked, "Swallow away; you will not fail to find out
what it really is in a little time." And he uttered this stanza of rebuke:--
He bolts the die quite boldly,--knowing not
What burning poison thereon lurks unseen.
--Aye, bolt it, sharper! Soon you'll burn within.
[paragraph continues] But while the Bodhisatta was talking away, the poison
began to work on the sharper; he grew faint, rolled his eyes, and bending double
with pain fell to the ground. "Now," said the Bodhisatta, "I must save the
rascal's life." So he mixed some simples and administered an emetic until
vomiting ensued. Then he administered a draught of ghee with honey and sugar and
other ingredients, and by this means made the fellow all right again. Then he
exhorted him not to do such a thing again. 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 said, "Brethren, the thoughtless use of things is
like the thoughtless taking of deadly poison." So saying, he identified the
Birth in these words, "I was myself the wise and good gambler of those days."
(Pāli Note. "No mention is made of the sharper,--the reason being that, here as
elsewhere, no mention is made of persons who are not spoken of at this date.")
Next: No. 92. Mahāsāra-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Akatannu Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 90. Akataññu-Jātaka
p. 220
No. 90.
AKATAÑÑU-JĀTAKA.
"The man ungrateful."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana,
about Anātha-piṇḍika.
On the borders, so the tale goes, there lived a merchant, who was a
correspondent and a friend of Anātha-piṇḍika's, but they had never met. There
came a time when this merchant loaded five hundred carts with local produce and
gave orders to the men in charge to go to the great merchant Anātha-piṇḍika, and
barter the wares in his correspondent's shop for their value, and bring back the
goods received in exchange. So they came to Sāvatthi, and found Anātha-piṇḍika.
First making him a present, they told him their business. "You are welcome,"
said the great man, and ordered them to be lodged there and provided with money
for their needs. After kindly enquiries after their master's health, he bartered
their merchandise and gave them the goods in exchange. Then they went back to
their own district, and reported what had happened.
Shortly afterwards, Anātha-piṇḍika similarly despatched five hundred carts with
merchandise to the very district in which they dwelt; and his people, when they
had got there, went, present in hand, to call upon the border merchant. "Where
do you come from?" said he. "From Sāvatthi," replied they; "from your
correspondent, Anātha-piṇḍika." "Anyone can call himself Anātha-piṇḍika," said
he with a sneer; and taking their present, he bade them begone, giving them
neither lodging nor douceur. So they bartered their goods for themselves and
brought back the wares in exchange to Sāvatthi, with the story of the reception
they had had.
Now it chanced [378] that this border merchant despatched another caravan of
five hundred carts to Sāvatthi; and his people came with a present in their
hands to wait upon Anātha-piṇḍika. But, as soon as Anātha-piṇḍika's people
caught sight of them, they said, "Oh, we'll see, sir, that they are properly
lodged, fed, and supplied with money for their needs." And they took the
strangers outside the city and bade them unyoke their carts at a suitable spot,
adding that rice and a douceur would come from Anātha-piṇḍika's house. About the
middle watch of the night, having collected a baud of serving-men and slaves,
they looted the whole caravan, carried off every garment the men had got, drove
away their oxen, and took the wheels off the carts, leaving the latter but
removing the wheels. Without so much as a shirt among the lot of them, the
terrified strangers sped away and managed to reach their home on the border.
Then Anātha-piṇḍika's people told him the whole story. "This capital story,"
said he, "shall be my gift to the Master to-day;" and away he went and told it
to the Master.
"This is not the first time, sir," said the Master, "that this border merchant
has shewn this disposition; he was just the same in days gone by." Then, at
Anātha-piṇḍika's request, he told the following story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was a
very wealthy merchant in that city. And he too had as a correspondent a border
merchant whom he had never seen and all came to pass as above.
p. 221
Being told by his people what they had done, he said, "This trouble is the
result of their ingratitude for kindness shewn them." And he went on to instruct
the assembled crowd in this stanza:--
The man ungrateful for a kindly deed,
Thenceforth shall find no helper in his need.
[paragraph continues] After this wise did the Bodhisatta teach the truth in this
stanza. After a life spent in charity and other good works, he passed away to
fare according to his deserts.
_____________________________
[379] His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "The border
merchant of to-day was the border merchant of those days also; and I was the
merchant of Benares."
Next: No. 91. Litta-Jātaka
p. 220
No. 90.
AKATAÑÑU-JĀTAKA.
"The man ungrateful."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana,
about Anātha-piṇḍika.
On the borders, so the tale goes, there lived a merchant, who was a
correspondent and a friend of Anātha-piṇḍika's, but they had never met. There
came a time when this merchant loaded five hundred carts with local produce and
gave orders to the men in charge to go to the great merchant Anātha-piṇḍika, and
barter the wares in his correspondent's shop for their value, and bring back the
goods received in exchange. So they came to Sāvatthi, and found Anātha-piṇḍika.
First making him a present, they told him their business. "You are welcome,"
said the great man, and ordered them to be lodged there and provided with money
for their needs. After kindly enquiries after their master's health, he bartered
their merchandise and gave them the goods in exchange. Then they went back to
their own district, and reported what had happened.
Shortly afterwards, Anātha-piṇḍika similarly despatched five hundred carts with
merchandise to the very district in which they dwelt; and his people, when they
had got there, went, present in hand, to call upon the border merchant. "Where
do you come from?" said he. "From Sāvatthi," replied they; "from your
correspondent, Anātha-piṇḍika." "Anyone can call himself Anātha-piṇḍika," said
he with a sneer; and taking their present, he bade them begone, giving them
neither lodging nor douceur. So they bartered their goods for themselves and
brought back the wares in exchange to Sāvatthi, with the story of the reception
they had had.
Now it chanced [378] that this border merchant despatched another caravan of
five hundred carts to Sāvatthi; and his people came with a present in their
hands to wait upon Anātha-piṇḍika. But, as soon as Anātha-piṇḍika's people
caught sight of them, they said, "Oh, we'll see, sir, that they are properly
lodged, fed, and supplied with money for their needs." And they took the
strangers outside the city and bade them unyoke their carts at a suitable spot,
adding that rice and a douceur would come from Anātha-piṇḍika's house. About the
middle watch of the night, having collected a baud of serving-men and slaves,
they looted the whole caravan, carried off every garment the men had got, drove
away their oxen, and took the wheels off the carts, leaving the latter but
removing the wheels. Without so much as a shirt among the lot of them, the
terrified strangers sped away and managed to reach their home on the border.
Then Anātha-piṇḍika's people told him the whole story. "This capital story,"
said he, "shall be my gift to the Master to-day;" and away he went and told it
to the Master.
"This is not the first time, sir," said the Master, "that this border merchant
has shewn this disposition; he was just the same in days gone by." Then, at
Anātha-piṇḍika's request, he told the following story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was a
very wealthy merchant in that city. And he too had as a correspondent a border
merchant whom he had never seen and all came to pass as above.
p. 221
Being told by his people what they had done, he said, "This trouble is the
result of their ingratitude for kindness shewn them." And he went on to instruct
the assembled crowd in this stanza:--
The man ungrateful for a kindly deed,
Thenceforth shall find no helper in his need.
[paragraph continues] After this wise did the Bodhisatta teach the truth in this
stanza. After a life spent in charity and other good works, he passed away to
fare according to his deserts.
_____________________________
[379] His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "The border
merchant of to-day was the border merchant of those days also; and I was the
merchant of Benares."
Next: No. 91. Litta-Jātaka
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