GLORY BE TO THE BLESSED, THE HOLY, THE ALL-WISE ONE.
BOOK I.
No. 1.—Holding to the Truth.[237]
This discourse on the True (Apaṇṇaka), the Blessed One delivered while at the Jetavana Wihāra, near Sāvatthi.
What was the circumstance concerning which this tale arose? About the five hundred heretics, friends of the Merchant.
For one day, we are told, Anātha Piṇḍika the merchant took five hundred heretics, friends of his, and had many garlands and perfumes and ointments and oil and honey and molasses and clothes and vestments brought, and went to Jetavana. And saluting the Blessed One, he offered him garlands and other things, and bestowed medicines and clothes on the Order of Mendicants, and sat down in a respectful and becoming manner on one side of the Teacher.[238] And those followers of wrong belief also saluted the Blessed One, and sat down close to Anātha Piṇḍika. And they beheld the countenance of the Teacher like the full moon in glory; and his person endowed with all the greater and lesser marks of honour, and surrounded to a fathom’s length with brightness; and also the clustering rays (the peculiar attribute of a Buddha), which issued from him like halos, and in pairs. Then, though mighty in voice like a young lion roaring in his pride in the Red Rock Valley,[239] or like a monsoon thunder-cloud, he preached to them in a voice like an archangel’s voice, perfect and sweet and pleasant to hear, a discourse varied with many counsels,—as if he were weaving a garland of pearls out of the stars in the Milky Way!
When they had heard the Teacher’s discourse, they were pleased at heart; and rising up, they bowed down to the One Mighty by Wisdom, and giving up the wrong belief as their refuge, they took refuge in the Buddha. And from that time they were in the habit of going with Anātha Piṇḍika to the Wihāra, taking garlands and perfumes with them, and of hearing the Truth, and of giving gifts, and of keeping the Precepts, and of making confession.
Now the Blessed One went back again from Sāvatthi to Rājagaha. And they, as soon as the Successor of the Prophets was gone, gave up that faith; and again put their trust in heresy, and returned to their former condition.
And the Blessed One, after seven or eight months, returned to Jetavana. And Anātha Piṇḍika again brought those men with him, and going to the Teacher honoured him with gifts as before, and bowing down to him, seated himself respectfully by his side. Then he told the Blessed One that when the Successor of the Prophets had left, those men had broken the faith they had taken, had returned to their trust in heresy, and had resumed their former condition.
And the Blessed One, by the power of the sweet words he had continually spoken through countless ages, opened his lotus mouth as if he were opening a jewel-casket scented with heavenly perfume, and full of sweet-smelling odours; and sending forth his pleasant tones, he asked them, saying, “Is it true, then, that you, my disciples, giving up the Three Refuges,[240] have gone for refuge to another faith?”
And they could not conceal it, and said, “It is true, O Blessed One!”
And when they had thus spoken, the Teacher said, “Not in hell beneath, nor in heaven above, nor beyond in the countless world-systems of the universe, is there any one like to a Buddha in goodness and wisdom—much less, then, a greater.” And he described to them the qualities of the Three Gems as they are laid down in the Scripture passages beginning, “Whatever creatures there may be, etc., the Successor of the Prophets is announced to be the Chief of all.” And again, “Whatsoever treasure there be here or in other worlds,” etc. And again, “From the chief of all pleasant things,” etc.
And he said, “Whatever disciples, men or women, have taken as their refuge the Three Gems endowed with these glorious qualities, they will never be born in hell; but freed from birth in any place of punishment, they will be reborn in heaven, and enter into exceeding bliss. You, therefore, by leaving so safe a refuge, and placing your reliance on other teaching, have done wrong.”
And here the following passages should be quoted to show that those who, for the sake of Perfection and Salvation, have taken refuge in the Three Gems, will not be reborn in places of punishment:—
Those who have put their trust in Buddha,
They will not go to a world of pain:
Having put off this mortal coil,
They will enter some heavenly body!
Those who have put their trust in the Truth,
They will not go to a world of pain:
Having put off this mortal coil,
They will enter some heavenly body!
Those who have put their faith in the Order,
They will not go to a world of pain:
Having put off this mortal coil,
They will enter some heavenly body!
They go to many a refuge—
To the mountains and the forest....
(and so on down to)
Having gone to this as their refuge,
They are freed from every pain.[241]
The above was not all the discourse which the Teacher uttered to them. He also said, “Disciples! the meditation on the Buddha, the Truth, and the Order, gives the Entrance and the Fruit of the First Path, and of the Second, and of the Third, and of the Fourth.” And having in this way laid down the Truth to them, he added, “You have done wrong to reject so great salvation!”
And here the fact of the gift of the Paths to those who meditate on the Buddha, the Order, and the Truth, might be shown from the following and other similar passages: “There is one thing, O mendicants, which, if practised with increasing intensity, leads to complete weariness of the vanities of the world, to the end of longings, to the destruction of excitement, to peace of mind, to higher knowledge, to complete enlightenment, to Nirvāna. What is that one thing? The meditation on the Buddhas.”
Having thus exhorted the disciples in many ways, the Blessed One said, “Disciples! formerly, too, men trusting to their own reason foolishly mistook for a refuge that which was no refuge, and becoming the prey of demons in a wilderness haunted by evil spirits, came to a disastrous end. Whilst those who adhered to the absolute, the certain, the right belief, found good fortune in that very desert.” And when he had thus spoken, he remained silent.
Then Anātha Piṇḍika, the house-lord, arose from his seat, and did obeisance to the Blessed One, and exalted him, and bowed down before him with clasped hands, and said, “Now, at least, O Lord! the foolishness of these disciples in breaking with the best refuge is made plain to us. But how those self-sufficient reasoners were destroyed in the demon-haunted desert, while those who held to the truth were saved, is hid from us, though it is known to you. May it please the Blessed One to make this matter known to us, as one causing the full moon to rise in the sky!”
Then the Blessed One said, “O householder! it was precisely with the object of resolving the doubts of the world that for countless ages I have practised the Ten Cardinal Virtues,[242] and have so attained to perfect knowledge. Listen, then, and give ear attentively, as if you were filling up a golden measure with the most costly essence!” Having thus excited the merchant’s attention, he made manifest that which had been concealed by change of birth,—setting free, as it were, the full moon from the bosom of a dark snow-cloud.
Once upon a time in the country of Kāsi and the city of Benares, there was a king called Brahma-datta. The Bodisat was at that time born in a merchant’s family; and in due course he grew up, and went about trafficking with five hundred bullock-carts. Sometimes he travelled from east to west, and sometimes from west to east. At Benares too there was another young merchant, stupid, dull, and unskilful in resource.
Now the Bodisat collected in Benares merchandise of great value, and loaded it in five hundred bullock-carts, and made them ready for a journey. And that foolish merchant likewise loaded five hundred carts, and got them ready to start.
Then the Bodisat thought, “If this foolish young merchant should come with me, the road will not suffice for the thousand carts, all travelling together; the men will find it hard to get wood and water, and the bullocks to get grass. Either he or I ought to go on first.”
And sending for him he told him as much; saying, “We two can’t go together. Will you go on in front, or come on after me?”
And that other thought, “It will be much better for me to go first. I shall travel on a road that is not cut up, the oxen will eat grass that has not been touched, and for the men there will be curry-stuffs, of which the best have not been picked; the water will be undisturbed; and I shall sell my goods at what price I like.” So he said, “I, friend, will go on first.”
But the Bodisat saw that it would be better to go second: for thus it occurred to him, “Those who go in front will make the rough places plain, whilst I shall go over the ground they have traversed:—the old rank grass will have been eaten by the oxen that have gone first, whilst my oxen will eat the freshly grown and tender shoots:—for the men there will be the sweet curry-stuffs that have grown where the old was picked:—where there is no water these others will dig and get supplies, whilst we shall drink from the wells that they have dug:—and haggling about prices too is killing work; whereas by going afterwards, I shall sell my goods at the prices they have established.” So seeing all these advantages, he said, “Well, friend, you may go on first.”
The foolish merchant said, “Very well, then!” yoked his waggons and started; and in due course passed beyond the inhabited country, and came to the border of the wilderness.
Now there are five kinds of wildernesses, those that have become so by reason of thieves, of wild beasts, of the want of water, of the presence of demons, and of insufficiency of food; and of these this wilderness was demon-haunted and waterless.[243] So the merchant placed great water-pots on his carts, and filled them with water, and then entered the desert, which was sixty leagues across.
But, when he had reached the middle of the desert, the demon who dwelt there thought, “I will make these fellows throw away the water they have brought; and having thus destroyed their power of resistance, I will eat them every one!”
So he created a beautiful carriage drawn by milk-white bulls; and attended by ten or twelve demons with bows and arrows, and swords and shields, in their hands, he went to meet the merchant, seated like a lord in his carriage,—but adorned with a garland of water-lilies, with his hair and clothes all wet, and his carriage wheels begrimed with mud. His attendants too went before and after him, with their hair and clothes all wet, decked with garlands of white lotuses, carrying bunches of red lotuses, eating the edible stalks of water-plants, and with drops of water and mud trickling from them.
Now the chiefs of trading caravans, whenever a headwind blows, ride in their carriage in front, surrounded by their attendants, and thus escape the dust; and when it blows from behind, they, in the same manner, ride behind. At that time there was a headwind, so the merchant went in front.
As the demon saw him coming, he turned his carriage out of the way, and greeted him kindly, saying, “Where are you going to?”
And the merchant hurrying his carriage out of the way, made room for the carts to pass, and waiting beside him, said to the demon, “We have come thus far from Benares. And you I see with lotus wreaths, and water-lilies in your hands, eating lotus stalks, soiled with dirt, and dripping with water and mud. Pray, does it rain on the road you have come by, and are there tanks there covered with water-plants?”
No sooner had the demon heard that, than he answered; “What is this that you say? Yonder streak is green forest; from thence onwards the whole country abounds with water, it is always raining, the pools are full, and here and there are ponds covered with lotuses.” And as the carts passed by one after another, he asked, “Where are you going with these carts?”
“To such and such a country,” was the reply.
“And in this cart, and in this, what have you got?” said he.
“Such and such things.”
“This cart coming last comes along very heavily, what is there in this one?”
“There’s water in that.”
“You have done right to bring water as far as this; but further on there’s no need of it. In front of you there’s plenty of water. Break the pots and pour away the water, and go on at your ease.” Then he added, “Do you go on, we have already delayed too long!” and himself went on a little, and as soon as he was out of sight, went back to the demons’ home.
And that foolish merchant, in his folly, accepted the demon’s word, and had his pots broken, and the water poured away (without saving even a cupful), and sent on the carts. And before them there was not the least water. And the men, having nothing to drink, became weary. And journeying on till sunset, they unyoked the waggons, and ranged them in a circle, and tied the oxen to the wheels. And there was neither water for the oxen, nor could the men cook their rice. And the worn-out men fell down here and there and slept.
And at the end of the night the demons came up from their demon city, and slew them all, both men and oxen, and ate their flesh, and went away leaving their bones behind. So on account of one foolish young merchant these all came to destruction, and their bones were scattered to all the points of the compass! And the five hundred carts stood there just as they had been loaded!
Now for a month and a half after the foolish merchant had started, the Bodisat waited; and then left the city, and went straight on till he came to the mouth of the desert. There he filled the vessels, and laid up a plentiful store of water, and had the drum beaten in the encampment to call the men together, and addressed them thus: “Without asking me, let not even a cupful of water be used! There are poisonous trees in the wilderness: without asking me, let not a leaf nor a flower nor a fruit you have not eaten before, be eaten!” And when he had thus exhorted his followers, he entered the desert with his five hundred waggons.
When he had reached the middle of the desert, that demon, in the same way as before, showed himself to the Bodisat as if he were coming from the opposite direction. The Bodisat knew him as soon as he saw him, thinking thus: “There is no water in this wilderness; its very name is the arid desert. This fellow is red-eyed and bold, and throws no shadow. The foolish merchant who went on before me will doubtless have been persuaded by this fellow to throw away all his water; will have been wearied out; and, with all his people, have fallen a prey. But he doesn’t know, methinks, how clever I am, and how fertile in resource.”
Then he said to him, “Begone! We are travelling merchants, and don’t throw away the water we’ve got till we see some more; and as soon as we do see it, we understand quite well how to lighten carts by throwing ours away!”
The demon went on a little way, and when he got out of sight, returned to his demon city. When the demons were gone, his men said to the Bodisat, “Sir! those men told us that yonder was the beginning of the green forest, and from there onwards it was always raining. They had all kinds of lotuses with them in garlands and branches, and were chewing the edible lotus-stalks; their clothes and hair were all wet, and they came dripping with water. Let us throw away the water, and go on quickly with light carts!”
And when he heard what they said, the Bodisat made the waggons halt, and collecting all his men, put the question to them, “Have you ever heard anybody say that there was any lake or pond in this desert?”
“We never heard so.”
“And now some men are saying that it rains on the other side of that stretch of green forest. How far can a rain-wind be felt?”
“About a league, Sir.”
“Now does the rain-wind reach the body of any one of you?”
“No, Sir.”
“And how far off is the top of a rain-cloud visible?”
“About a league, Sir.”
“Now does any one of you see the top of a single cloud?”
“No one, Sir.”
“How far off can a flash of lightning be seen?”
“Four or five leagues, Sir.”
“Now has the least flash of lightning been seen by any one of you?”
“No, Sir.”
“How far off can thunder be heard?”
“A league or two, Sir.”
“Now has any of you heard the thunder?”
“No, Sir.”
“These fellows are not men, they are demons! They must have come to make us throw away our water with the hope of destroying us in our weakness. The foolish young merchant who went on before us had no power of resource. No doubt he has let himself be persuaded to throw away his supply of water, and has fallen a prey to those fellows. His waggons will be standing there just as they were loaded. We shall find them to-day. Go on as quickly as you can, and don’t throw away a single half-pint of water!”
With these words he sent them forward; and going on he found the five hundred carts as they had been loaded, and the bones of men and oxen scattered about. And he had his waggons unyoked, and ranged in a circle so as to form a strong encampment; and he had the men and oxen fed betimes, and the oxen made to lie down in the midst of the men. And he himself took the overseers of the company, and stood on guard with a drawn sword through the three watches of the night, and waited for the dawn. And quite early the next day he saw that everything that should be done was done, and the oxen fed; and leaving such carts as were weak he took strong ones, and throwing away goods of little value he loaded goods of greater value. And arriving at the proposed mart, he sold his merchandise for two or three times the cost price, and with all his company returned to his own city.
And when he had told this story, the Teacher added, “Thus, O householder, long ago those who relied on their own reason came to destruction, while those who held to the truth escaped the hands of the demons, went whither they had wished to go, and got back again to their own place.” And it was when he had become a Buddha that he uttered the following verse belonging to this lesson on Holding to the Truth; and thus uniting the two stories, he said—
1. Some speak that which none can question;
Mere logicians speak not so.
The wise man knows that this is so,
And takes for true what is the truth!
Thus the Blessed One taught those disciples the lesson regarding truth. “Life according to the Truth confers the three happy conditions of existence here below, and the six joys of the Brahmalokas in the heaven of delight, and finally leads to the attainment of Arahatship; but life according to the Untrue leads to rebirth in the four hells and among the five lowest grades of man.” He also proclaimed the Four Truths in sixteen ways. And at the end of the discourse on the Truths all those five hundred disciples were established in the Fruit of Conversion.
The Teacher having finished the discourse, and told the double narrative, established the connexion,[244] and summed up the Jātaka by concluding, “The foolish young merchant of that time was Devadatta, his men were Devadatta’s followers. The wise young merchant’s men were the attendants of the Buddha, and the wise young merchant was I myself.”
END OF THE STORY ON HOLDING TO THE TRUTH.
No. 2.
VAṆṆUPATHA JĀTAKA.
The Sandy Road.
“The Determined Ones,” etc.—This discourse was uttered by the Blessed One while at Sāvatthi. About what? About a mendicant who had no perseverance.
For whilst the Successor of the Prophets, we are told, was staying at Sāvatthi, a young man of good family dwelling there went to Jetavana, and heard a discourse from the Teacher. And with converted heart he saw the evil result of lusts, and entered the Order. When he had passed the five years of noviciate, he learnt two summaries of doctrine, and applied himself to the practice of meditation. And receiving from the Teacher a suitable subject as a starting-point for thought, he retired to a forest. There he proceeded to pass the rainy season; but after three months of constant endeavour, he was unable to obtain even the least hint or presentiment of the attainment of insight.[245] Then it occurred to him, “The Teacher said there were four kinds of men; I must belong to the lowest class. In this birth there will be, I think, neither Path nor Fruit for me. What is the good of my dwelling in the forest? Returning to the Teacher, I will live in the sight of the glorious person of the Buddha, and within hearing of the sweet sound of the Law.” And he returned to Jetavana.
His friends and intimates said to him, “Brother, you received from the Teacher a subject of meditation, and left us to devote yourself to religious solitude; and now you have come back, and have given yourself up again to the pleasures of social intercourse. Have you then really attained the utmost aim of those who have given up the world? Have you escaped transmigration?”[246]
“Brethren! I have gained neither the Path nor the Fruit thereof. I have come to the conclusion that I am fated to be a useless creature; and so have come back and given up the attempt.”
“You have done wrong, Brother! after taking vows according to the religion of the Teacher whose firmness is so immovable, to have given up the attempt. Come, let us show this matter to the Buddha.” And they took him to the Teacher.
When the Teacher saw them, he said, “I see, O mendicants! that you have brought this brother here against his will. What has he done?”
“Lord! this brother having taken the vows in so sanctifying a faith, has abandoned the endeavour to accomplish the aim of a member of the Order, and has come back to us.”
Then the Teacher said to him, “Is it true you have given up trying?”
“It is true, O Blessed One!” was the reply.
“How is it, brother, that you, who have now taken the vows according to such a system, have proved yourself to be—not a man of few desires, contented, separate from the world, persevering in effort—but so irresolute! Why, formerly you were full of determination. By your energy alone the men and bullocks of five hundred waggons obtained water in the sandy desert, and were saved. How is it that you give up trying, now?”
Then by those few words that brother was established in resolution!
But the others, hearing that story, besought of the Blessed One, saying, “Lord! We know that this brother has given up trying now; and yet you tell how formerly by his energy alone the men and bullocks of five hundred waggons obtained water in the sandy desert, and were saved. Tell us how this was.”
“Listen, then, O mendicants!” said the Blessed One: and having thus excited their attention, he made manifest a thing concealed through change of birth.
Once upon a time, when Brahma-datta was reigning in Benares, in the country of Kāsi, the future Buddha was born in a merchant’s family; and when he grew up, he went about trafficking with five hundred carts.
One day he arrived at a sandy desert twenty leagues across. The sand in that desert was so fine, that when taken in the closed fist, it could not be kept in the hand. After the sun had risen it became as hot as a mass of charcoal, so that no man could walk on it. Those, therefore, who had to travel over it took wood, and water, and oil, and rice in their carts; and travelled during the night. And at daybreak they formed an encampment, and spread an awning over it, and taking their meals early, they passed the day sitting in the shade. At sunset they supped; and when the ground had become cool, they yoked their oxen and went on. The travelling was like a voyage over the sea: a so-called land-pilot had to be chosen, and he brought the caravan safe to the other side by his knowledge of the stars.
On this occasion the merchant of our story traversed the desert in that way. And when he had passed over fifty-nine leagues he thought, “Now in one more night we shall get out of the sand,” and after supper he directed the wood and water to be thrown away, and the waggons to be yoked; and so set out. The pilot had cushions arranged on the foremost cart, and lay down looking at the stars, and directing them where to drive. But worn out by want of rest during the long march, he fell asleep, and did not perceive that the oxen had turned round and taken the same road by which they had come.
The oxen went on the whole night through. Towards dawn the pilot woke up, and, observing the stars, called out, “Stop the waggons, stop the waggons!” The day broke just as they had stopped, and were drawing up the carts in a line. Then the men cried out, “Why, this is the very encampment we left yesterday! Our wood and water is all gone! We are lost!” And unyoking the oxen, and spreading the canopy over their heads, they lay down, in despondency, each one under his waggon.
But the Bodisat, saying to himself, “If I lose heart, all these will perish,” walked about while the morning was yet cool. And on seeing a tuft of Kusa-grass, he thought, “This must have grown by attracting some water which there must be beneath it.”
And he made them bring a hoe and dig in that spot. And they dug sixty cubits deep. And when they had got thus far, the spade of the diggers struck on a rock: and as soon as it struck, they all gave up in despair.
But the Bodisat thought, “There must be water under that rock,” and descending into the well, he got upon the stone, and, stooping down, applied his ear to it, and tested the sound of it. And he heard the sound of water gurgling beneath. And he got out, and called his page. “My lad, if you give up now, we shall all be lost. Don’t you lose heart. Take this iron hammer, and go down into the pit, and give the rock a good blow.”
The lad obeyed, and though they all stood by in despair, he went down full of determination, and struck at the stone. And the rock split in two, and fell below, and no longer blocked up the stream. And water rose till its brim was the height of a palm-tree in the well. And they all drank of the water, and bathed in it. Then they split up their extra yokes and axles, and cooked rice, and ate it, and fed their oxen with it. And when the sun set, they put up a flag by the well, and went to the place appointed. There they sold their merchandise at double and treble profit, and returned to their own home, and lived to a good old age, and then passed away according to their deeds. And the Bodisat gave gifts, and did other virtuous acts, and passed away according to his deeds.
When the Buddha had told the story, he, as Buddha, uttered the verse—
2. The men of firm resolve dug on into the sand,
Till in the very road they found whereof to drink.
And so the wise, strong by continuing effort,
Finds—if he weary not—Rest for his heart!
When he had thus discoursed, he declared the Four Truths. And when he had concluded, the despairing priest was established in the highest Fruit, in Arahatship (which is Nirvāna).
After the Teacher had told the two stories, he formed the connexion, and summed up the Jātaka, by saying, in conclusion, “The page who at that time despaired not, but broke the stone, and gave water to the multitude, was this brother without perseverance: the other men were the attendants on the Buddha; and the caravan leader was I myself.”
END OF THE STORY OF THE SANDY ROAD.
No. 3.
SERI-VĀNIJA JĀTAKA.
The Merchant of Sēri.
“If you fail here,” etc.—This discourse, too, the Blessed One uttered, while staying at Sāvatthi, about a monk who was discouraged in his efforts to obtain spiritual enlightenment.
For we are told that when he too was brought up by the brethren in the same manner as before, the Teacher said, “Brother! you who have given up trying, after taking the vows according to a system so well fitted to lead you to the Paths and Fruit thereof, will sorrow long, like the Seriva trader when he had lost the golden vessel worth a hundred thousand.”
The monks asked the Blessed One to explain to them the matter. The Blessed One made manifest that which had been hidden by change of birth.
Long ago, in the fifth dispensation before the present one, the Bodisat was a dealer in tin and brass ware, named Seriva, in the country of that name. This Seriva, together with another dealer in tin and brass ware, who was an avaricious man, crossed the river Tēla-vāha, and entered the town called Andhapura. And dividing the streets of the city between them, the Bodisat went round selling his goods in the street allotted to him, while the other took the street that fell to him.
Now in that city there was a wealthy family reduced to abject poverty. All the sons and brothers in the family had died, and all its property had been lost. Only one girl and her grandmother were left; and those two gained their living by serving others for hire. There was indeed in the house the vessel of gold out of which the head of the house used to eat in the days of its prosperity; but it was covered with dirt, and had long lain neglected and unused among the pots and pans. And they did not even know that it was of gold.
At that time the avaricious hawker, as he was going along, calling out, “Buy my water-pots! Buy my water-pots!” came to the door of their house. When the girl saw him, she said to her grandmother, “Mother! do buy me an ornament.”
“But we are poor, dear. What shall we give in exchange for it?”
“This dish of ours is no use to us; you can give that away and get one.”
The old woman called the hawker, and after asking him to take a seat, gave him the dish, and said, “Will you take this, Sir, and give something to your little sister[247] for it?”
The hawker took the dish, and thought, “This must be gold!” And turning it round, he scratched a line on its back with a needle, and found that it was so. Then hoping to get the dish without giving them anything, he said, “What is this worth? It is not even worth a halfpenny.” And throwing it on the ground, he got up from his seat, and went away.
Now, it was allowed to either hawker to enter the street which the other had left. And the Bodisat came into that street, and calling out, “Buy my water-pots,” came up to the door of that very house. And the girl spoke to her grandmother as before. But the grandmother said, “My child, the dealer who came just now threw the dish on the floor, and went away; what have I now got to give him in exchange?”
“That merchant, mother dear, was a surly man; but this one looks pleasant, and has a kind voice: perchance he may take it.”
“Call him, then,” said she.
So she called him. And when he had come in and sat down, they gave him the dish. He saw that it was gold, and said, “Mother! this dish is worth a hundred thousand. All the goods in my possession are not equal to it in value!”
“But, Sir, a hawker who came just now threw it on the ground, and went away, saying it was not worth a halfpenny. It must have been changed into gold by the power of your virtue, so we make you a present of it. Give us some trifle for it, and take it.”
The Bodisat gave them all the cash he had in hand (five hundred pieces), and all his stock-in-trade, worth five hundred more. He asked of them only to let him keep eight pennies, and the bag and the yoke that he used to carry his things with. And these he took and departed.
And going quickly to the river-side, he gave those eight pennies to a boatman, and got into the boat.
But that covetous hawker came back to the house, and said: “Bring out that dish, I’ll give you something for it!”
Then she scolded him, and said, “You said our gold dish, worth a hundred thousand, was not worth a halfpenny. But a just dealer, who seems to be your master,[248] gave us a thousand for it, and has taken it away.”
When he heard this he called out, “Through this fellow I have lost a golden pot worth—O, worth a hundred thousand! He has ruined me altogether!” And bitter sorrow overcame him, and he was unable to retain his presence of mind; and he lost all self-command. And scattering the money he had, and all the goods, at the door of the house, he seized as a club the yoke by which he had carried them, and tore off his clothes, and pursued after the Bodisat.
When he reached the river-side, he saw the Bodisat going away, and he cried out, “Hallo, Boatman! stop the boat!”
But the Bodisat said, “Don’t stop!” and so prevented that. And as the other gazed and gazed at the departing Bodisat, he was torn with violent grief; his heart grew hot, and blood flowed from his mouth until his heart broke—like tank-mud in the heat of the sun!
Thus harbouring hatred against the Bodisat, he brought about on that very spot his own destruction. This was the first time that Devadatta harboured hatred against the Bodisat.
But the Bodisat gave gifts, and did other good acts, and passed away according to his deeds.
It was when the Buddha had finished this discourse, that he, as Buddha, uttered the following verse—
3. If in this present time of Grace,
You fail to reach the Happy State;[249]
Long will you suffer deep Remorse
Like this trading man of Seriva.
So the Teacher, discoursing in such a manner as to lead up to the subject of Arahatship, dwelt on the Four Truths. And at the end of the discourse the monk who had given up in despondency was established in the highest Fruit—that is, in Nirvāna.
And when the Teacher had told the double story, he made the connexion, and summed up the Jātaka by concluding, “The then foolish dealer was Devadatta, but the wise dealer was I myself.”
END OF THE STORY OF THE MERCHANT OF SĒRI.
No. 4.
CULLAKA-SEṬṬHI JĀTAKA.
The Story of Chullaka the Treasurer.[250]
“The wise, far-seeing man,” etc.—This discourse the Blessed One uttered, while at Jīvaka’s Mango-grove near Rājagaha, concerning the Elder whose name was Roadling the Younger.
Now here it ought to be explained how Roadling the Younger came to be born. The daughter of a wealthy house in Rājagaha, they say, had contracted an intimacy with a slave, and being afraid that people would find out what she had done, she said to him, “We can’t stay here. If my parents discover this wrongdoing, they will tear us in pieces. Let us go to some far-off country, and dwell there.” So, taking the few things they had, they went out privately together to go and dwell in some place, it did not matter where, where they would not be known.
And settling in a certain place, they lived together there, and she conceived. And when she was far gone with child, she consulted with her husband, saying, “I am far gone with child; and it will be hard for both of us if the confinement were to take place where I have no friends and relations. Let us go home again!”
But he let the days slip by, saying all the while, “Let us go to-day; let us go to-morrow.”
Then she thought, “This silly fellow dares not go home because his offence has been so great. But parents are, after all, true friends. Whether he goes or not, it will be better for me to go.”
So, as soon as he had gone out, she set her house in order, and telling her nearest neighbours that she was going to her own home, she started on her way. The man returned to the house; and when he could not find her, and learned on inquiry from the neighbours that she had gone home, he followed her quickly, and came up to her halfway on the road. There the pains of labour had just seized her. And he accosted her, saying, “Wife, what is this?”
“Husband, I have given birth to a son,” replied she.
“What shall we do now?” said he.
“The very thing we were going home for has happened on the road. What’s the use of going there? Let us stop!”
So saying, they both agreed to stop. And as the child was born on the road, they called him Roadling. Now not long after she conceived again, and all took place as before; and as that child too was born on the road, they called the firstborn Great Roadling, and the second Little Roadling. And taking the two babies with them, they went back to the place where they were living.
And whilst they were living there this child of the road heard other children talking about uncles, and grandfathers, and grandmothers; and he asked his mother, saying, “Mother, the other boys talk of their uncles, and grandfathers, and grandmothers. Have we no relations?”
“Certainly, my dear! You have no relations here, but you have a grandfather, a rich gentleman, at Rājagaha; and there you have plenty of relations.”
“Then why don’t we go there, mother?” said he.
Then she told him the reason of their not going. But when the children spoke to her again and again about it, she said to her husband, “These children are continually troubling me. Can our parents kill us and eat us when they see us? Come, let us make the boys acquainted with their relatives on the grandfather’s side.”
“Well, I myself daren’t meet them face to face, but I will take you there.”
“Very well, then; any way you like: the children ought to be made acquainted with their grandfather’s family.”
So they two took the children, and in due course arrived at Rājagaha, and put up at a chowltrie (a public resting-place) at the gate of the town. And the mother, taking the two boys, let her parents know of her arrival. When they heard the message, they sent her back word to the following effect: “To be without sons and daughters is an unheard-of thing among ordinary people;[251] but these two have sinned so deeply against us, that they cannot stand in our sight. Let them take such and such a sum, and go and dwell wherever they two may like. But the children they may send here.” And their daughter took the money her parents sent, and handing over her children to the messengers, let them go.
And the children grew up in their grandfather’s house. Little Roadling was much the younger of the two, but Great Roadling used to go with his grandfather to hear the Buddha preach; and by constantly hearing the Truth from the mouth of the Teacher himself, his mind turned towards renunciation of the world. And he said to his grandfather, “If you would allow it, I should enter the Order.”
“What are you saying, my child?” answered the old, man. “Of all persons in the world I would rather have you enter the Order. Become a monk by all means, if you feel yourself able to do so.” So, granting his request, he took him to the Teacher.
The Teacher said, “What, Sir, have you then a son?”
“Yes, my Lord, this lad is my grandson, and he wants to take the vows under you.”
The Teacher called a monk, and told him to ordain the lad: and the monk, repeating to him the formula of meditation on the perishable nature of the human body,[252] received him as a novice into the Order. After he had learnt by heart much scripture, and had reached the full age required, he was received into full membership; and applying himself to earnest thought, he attained the state of an Arahat. And whilst he was thus himself enjoying the delight which arises from wise and holy thoughts, and wise and holy life, he considered whether he could not procure the same bliss for Little Roadling.
So he went to his grandfather, and said: “If, noble Sir, you will grant me your consent, I will receive Little Roadling into the Order!”
“Ordain him, reverend Sir,” was the reply. The Elder accordingly initiated Little Roadling, and taught him to live in accordance with the Ten Commandments. But though he had reached the noviciate, Little Roadling was dull, and in four months he could not get by heart even this one verse—
As a sweet-smelling Kokanada lily
Blooming all fragrant in the early dawn,
Behold the Sage, bright with exceeding glory
E’en as the burning sun in the vault of heaven!
For long ago, we are told, in the time of Kassapa the Buddha, he had been a monk, who, having acquired learning himself, had laughed to scorn a dull brother as he was learning a recitation. That brother was so overwhelmed with confusion by his contempt, that he could neither commit to memory, nor recite the passage. In consequence of this conduct he now, though initiated, became dull; he forgot each line he learnt as soon as he learnt the next; and whilst he was trying to learn this one verse four months had passed away.
Then his elder brother said to him: “Roadling, you are not fit for this discipline. In four months you have not been able to learn a single stanza, how can you hope to reach the utmost aim of those who have given up the world? Go away, out of the monastery!” And he expelled him. But Little Roadling, out of love for the religion of the Buddhas, did not care for a layman’s life.
Now at that time it was the elder Roadling’s duty to regulate the distribution of food to the monks. And the nobleman Jīvaka brought many sweet-scented flowers, and going to his Mango-grove presented them to the Teacher, and listened to the discourse. Then, rising from his seat, he saluted the Buddha, and going up to Great Roadling, asked him, “How many brethren are there with the Teacher?”
“About five hundred,” was the reply.
“Will the Buddha and the five hundred brethren come and take their morning meal to-morrow at our house?”
“One called Little Roadling, O disciple, is dull, and makes no progress in the faith; but I accept the invitation for all excepting him.”
Little Roadling overheard this, and thought, “Though accepting for so many monks, the Elder accepts in such a manner as to leave me out. Surely my brother’s love for me has been broken. What’s the good of this discipline to me now? I must become a layman, and give alms, and do such good deeds as laymen can.” And early the next day he went away, saying he would re-enter the world.
Now the Teacher, very early in the morning, when he surveyed the world, became aware of this matter.[253] And going out before him, he remained walking up and down by the gateway on the road along which Little Roadling would have to pass. And Little Roadling, as he left the house, saw the Teacher, and going up to him, paid him reverence. Then the Teacher said to him, “How now, Little Roadling! whither are you going at this time in the morning?”
“Lord! my brother has expelled me, so I am going away to wander again in the ways of the world!”
“Little Roadling! It was under me that your profession of religion took place. When your brother expelled you, why did you not come to me? What will a layman’s life advantage you? You may stay with me!”
And he took Little Roadling, and seated him in front of his own apartment, and gave him a piece of very white cloth, created for the purpose, and said, “Now, Little Roadling, stay here, sitting with your face to the East, and rub this cloth up and down, repeating to yourself the words, “The removal of impurity! The removal of impurity!” And so saying he went, when time was called, to Jīvaka’s house, and sat down on the seat prepared for him.[254]
But Little Roadling did as he was desired: and as he did so, the cloth became soiled, and he thought, “This piece of cloth was just now exceeding white; and now, through me, it has lost its former condition, and is become soiled. Changeable indeed are all component things!” And he felt the reality of decay and death, and the eyes of his mind were opened!
Then the Teacher, knowing that the eyes of his mind were opened, sent forth a glorious vision of himself, which appeared as if sitting before him in visible form, and saying, “Little Roadling! be not troubled at the thought that this cloth has become so soiled and stained. Within thee, too, are the stains of lust and care and sin; but these thou must remove!” And the vision uttered these stanzas:
It is not dust, but lust, that really is the stain:
This—’stain’—is the right word for lust.
’Tis the monks who have put away this stain,
Who live up to the Word of the Stainless One!
It is not dust, but anger, that really is the stain:
This—’stain’—is the right word for anger.
’Tis the monks who have put away this stain,
Who live up to the Word of the Stainless One!
It is not dust, but delusion, that really is the stain:
This—’stain’—is the right word for delusion.
’Tis the monks who have put away this stain,
Who live up to the Word of the Stainless One!
And as the stanzas were finished, Little Roadling attained to Arahatship, and with it to the intellectual gifts of an Arahat; and by them he understood all the Scriptures.
Long ago, we are told, he had been a king, who, as he was once going round the city, and the sweat trickled down from his forehead, wiped the top of his forehead with his pure white robe. When the robe became dirty, he thought, “By this body the pure white robe has lost its former condition, and has become soiled. Changeable indeed are all component things!” And so he realized the doctrine of impermanency. It was on this account that the incident of the transfer of impurity brought about his conversion.
But to return to our story. Jīvaka, the nobleman, brought to the Buddha the so-called water of presentation. The Teacher covered the vessel with his hand, and said, “Are there no monks in the monastery, Jīvaka?”
“Nay, my Lord, there are no monks there,” said Great Roadling.
“But there are, Jīvaka,” said the Master.
Jīvaka then sent a man, saying, “Do you go, then, and find out whether there are any monks or not at the monastery.”
At that moment Little Roadling thought, “My brother says there are no monks here; I will show him there are.” And he filled the Mango-grove with priests—a thousand monks, each unlike the other—some making robes, some repairing them, and some repeating the Scriptures.
The man, seeing all these monks at the monastery, went back, and told Jīvaka, “Sir, the whole Mango-grove is alive with monks.”
It was with reference to this that it is said of him, that
“Roadling, multiplying himself a thousand fold,
Sate in the pleasant Mango-grove till he was bidden to the feast.”
Then the Teacher told the messenger to go again, and say, “The Teacher sends for him who is called Little Roadling.”
So he went and said so. But from a thousand monks the answer came, “I am Little Roadling! I am Little Roadling!”
The man returned, and said, “Why, Sir, they all say they are called Little Roadling!”
“Then go and take by the hand the first who says ‘I am Little Roadling,’ and the rest will disappear.”
And he did so. And the others disappeared, and the Elder returned with the messenger.[255]
And the Teacher, when the meal was over, addressed Jīvaka, and said, “Jīvaka, take Little Roadling’s bowl; he will pronounce the benediction.” And he did so. And the Elder, as fearlessly as a young lion utters his challenge, compressed into a short benedictive discourse the spirit of all the Scriptures.
Then the Teacher rose from his seat and returned to the Wihāra (monastery), accompanied by the body of mendicants. And when the monks had completed their daily duties, the Blessed One arose, and standing at the door of his apartment, discoursed to them, propounding a subject of meditation. He then dismissed the assembly, entered his fragrant chamber, and lay down to rest.
In the evening the monks collected from different places in the hall of instruction, and began uttering the Teacher’s praises,—thus surrounding themselves as it were with a curtain of sweet kamala flowers! “Brethren, his elder brother knew not the capacity of Little Roadling, and expelled him as a dullard because in four months he could not learn that one stanza; but the Buddha, by his unrivalled mastery over the Truth, gave him Arahatship, with the intellectual powers thereof, in the space of a single meal, and by those powers he understood all the Scriptures! Ah! how great is the power of the Buddhas!”
And the Blessed One, knowing that this conversation had arisen in the hall, determined to go there; and rising from his couch, he put on his orange-coloured under garment, girded himself with his belt as it were with lightning, gathered round him his wide flowing robe red as kamala flowers, issued from his fragrant chamber, and proceeded to the hall with that surpassing grace of motion peculiar to the Buddhas, like the majestic tread of a mighty elephant in the time of his pride. And ascending the magnificent throne made ready for the Buddha in the midst of the splendid hall, he seated himself in the midst of the throne emitting those six-coloured rays peculiar to the Buddhas, like the young sun when it rises over the mountains on the horizon, and illumines the ocean depths!
As soon as the Buddha came in, the assembly of the mendicants stopped their talking and were silent. The Teacher looked mildly and kindly round him, and thought, “This assembly is most seemly; not a hand nor foot stirs, no sound of coughing or sneezing can be heard! If I were to sit here my life long without speaking, not one of all these men—awed by the majesty and blinded by the glory of a Buddha—would venture to speak first. It behoves me to begin the conversation, and I myself will be the first to speak!” And with sweet angelic voice he addressed the brethren: “What is the subject for which you have seated yourselves together here, and what is the talk among you that has been interrupted?”
“Lord! we are not sitting in this place to talk of any worldly thing: it is thy praises we are telling!” And they told him the subject of their talk. When he heard it the Teacher said, “Mendicants! Little Roadling has now through me become great in religion; now formerly through me he became great in riches.”
The monks asked the Buddha to explain how this was. Then the Blessed One made manifest that which had been hidden by change of birth.
Long ago,[256] when Brahma-datta was reigning in Benares, in the land of Kāsi, the Bodisat was born in a treasurer’s family; and when he grew up he received the post of treasurer, and was called Chullaka.[257] And he was wise and skilful, and understood all omens. One day as he was going to attend upon the king he saw a dead mouse lying on the road; and considering the state of the stars at the time, he said, “A young fellow with eyes in his head might, by picking this thing up, start a trade and support a wife.”
Now a certain young man of good birth, then fallen into poverty, heard what the official said, and thinking, “This is a man who wouldn’t say such a thing without good reason,” took the mouse, and gave it away in a certain shop for the use of the cat, and got a farthing for it.
With the farthing be bought molasses, and took water in a pot. And seeing garland-makers returning from the forest, he gave them bits of molasses, with water by the ladle-full.[258] They gave him each a bunch of flowers; and the next day, with the price of the flowers, he bought more molasses; and taking a potful of water, went to the flower garden. That day the garland-makers gave him, as they went away, flowering shrubs from which half the blossoms had been picked. In this way in a little time he gained eight pennies.
Some time after, on a rainy windy day, a quantity of dry sticks and branches and leaves were blown down by the wind in the king’s garden, and the gardener saw no way of getting rid of them. The young man went and said to the gardener, “If you will give me these sticks and leaves, I will get them out of the way.” The gardener agreed to this, and told him to take them.
Chullaka’s pupil[259] went to the children’s playground, and by giving them molasses had all the leaves and sticks collected in a twinkling, and placed in a heap at the garden gate. Just then the king’s potter was looking out for firewood to burn pots for the royal household, and seeing this heap he bought it from him. That day Chullaka’s pupil got by selling his firewood sixteen pennies and five vessels—water-pots, and such-like.
Having thus obtained possession of twenty-four pennies, he thought, “This will be a good scheme for me,” and went to a place not far from the city gate, and placing there a pot of water, supplied five hundred grass-cutters with drink.
“Friend! you have been of great service to us,” said they. “What shall we do for you?”
“You shall do me a good turn when need arises,” said he. And then, going about this way and that, he struck up a friendship with a trader by land and a trader by sea.
And the trader by land told him, “To-morrow a horse-dealer is coming to the town with five hundred horses.”
On hearing this, he said to the grass-cutters, “Give me to-day, each of you, a bundle of grass, and don’t sell your own grass till I have disposed of mine.”
“All right!” cried they in assent, and brought five hundred bundles, and placed them in his house. The horse-dealer, not being able to get grass for his horses through all the city, bought the young man’s grass for a thousand pence.
A few days afterwards his friend the trader by sea told him that a large vessel had come to the port. He thinking, “This will be a good plan,” got for eight pennies a carriage that was for hire, with all its proper attendants; and driving to the port with a great show of respectability, gave his seal-ring as a deposit for the ship’s cargo. Then he had a tent pitched not far off, and taking his seat gave orders to his men that when merchants came from outside he should be informed of it with triple ceremony.[260]
On hearing that a ship had arrived, about a hundred merchants came from Benares to buy the goods.
They were told, “You can’t have the goods: a great merchant of such and such a place has already paid deposit for them.”
On hearing this, they went to him; and his footmen announced their arrival, as had been agreed upon—three deep. Each of the merchants then gave him a thousand to become shareholders in the ship, and then another thousand for him to relinquish his remaining share: and thus they made themselves owners of the cargo.
So Chullaka’s pupil returned to Benares, taking with him two hundred thousand.[261] And from a feeling of gratitude, he took a hundred thousand and went to Chullaka the treasurer. Then the treasurer asked him, “What have you been doing, my good man, to get all this wealth?”
“It was by adhering to what you said that I have acquired it within four months,” said he: and told him the whole story, beginning with the dead mouse.
And when Chullaka the high treasurer heard his tale, he thought, “It will never do to let such a lad as this get into any one else’s hands.” So he gave him his grown-up daughter in marriage, and made him heir to all the family estates. And when the treasurer died, he received the post of city treasurer. But the Bodisat passed away according to his deeds.
It was when the Buddha had finished his discourse that he, as Buddha, uttered the following verse:
As one might nurse a tiny flame,
The able and far-seeing man,
E’en with the smallest capital,
Can raise himself to wealth!
It was thus the Blessed One made plain what he had said, “Mendicants! Little Roadling has now through me become great in religion; but formerly through me he became great in riches.”
When he had thus given this lesson, and told the double story, he made the connexion, and summed up the Jātaka by concluding, “He who was then Chullaka’s pupil was Little Roadling, but Chullaka the high treasurer was I myself.”
END OF THE STORY OF CHULLAKA THE TREASURER.
No. 5.
TAṆḌULA-NĀḶI JĀTAKA.
The Measure of Rice.[262]
“What is the value of a measure of rice,” etc.—This the Teacher told while sojourning at Jetavana, about a monk called Udāyin the Simpleton.
At that time the Elder named Dabba, a Mallian by birth, held the office of steward in the Order.[263] When he issued the food-tickets in the morning, Udāyin sometimes received a better kind of rice, and sometimes an inferior kind. One day when he received the inferior kind, he threw the distribution-hall into confusion, crying out, “Why should Dabba know better than any other of us how to give out the tickets?”
When he thus threw the office into disorder, they gave him the basket of tickets, saying, “Well, then, do you give out the tickets to-day!”
From that day he began to distribute tickets to the Order; but when giving them out he did not know which meant the better rice and which the worse, nor in which storehouse the better was kept and in which the worse. When fixing the turns, too, he did not distinguish to what storehouse each monk’s turn had come; but when the monks had taken their places, he would make a scratch on the wall or on the floor, to show that the turn for such and such a kind of rice had come thus far, and for such and such a kind of rice thus far. But the next day there were either more or fewer monks in hall. When they were fewer, the mark was too low down; when they were more, the mark was too high up; but ignoring the right turns, he gave out the tickets according to the signs he had made.
So the monks said to him, “Brother Udāyin! the mark is too high, or too low.” And again, “The good rice is in such a storehouse, the inferior rice in such a storehouse.”[264]
But he repelled them, saying, “If it be so, why is the mark different? Why should I trust you? I will trust the mark rather!”
Then the boys and novices cast him out from the hall of distribution, exclaiming, “When you give tickets, Brother Udāyin, the brethren are deprived of their due. You are incapable of the office. Leave the place!”
Thereupon a great tumult arose in the hall of distribution. The Teacher heard it, and asked of Ānanda the Elder, “There is a great tumult, Ānanda, in the hall. What is the noise about?”
The Elder told the Successor of the Prophets how it was.
Then he said, “Not now only, Ānanda, does Udāyin by his stupidity bring loss upon others, formerly also he did the same.”
The Elder asked the Blessed One to explain that matter. Then the Blessed One made manifest an occurrence hidden by change of birth.
Long ago, Brahma-datta was king in Benares, in the land of Kāsi. At that time our Bodisat was his Valuer. He valued both horses, elephants, or things of that kind; and jewelry, gold, or things of that kind; and having done so, he used to have the proper price for the goods given to the owners thereof.
Now the king was covetous. And in his avarice he thought, “If this valuer estimates in this way, it will not be long before all the wealth in my house will come to an end. I will appoint another valuer.”
And opening his window, and looking out into the palace yard, he saw a stupid miserly peasant crossing the yard. Him he determined to make his valuer; and sending for him, asked if he would undertake the office. The man said he could; and the king, with the object of keeping his treasure safer, established that fool in the post of valuer.
Thenceforward the dullard used to value the horses and elephants, paying no regard to their real value, but deciding just as he chose: and since he had been appointed to the office, as he decided, so the price was.
Now at that time a horse-dealer brought five hundred horses from the northern prairies. The king sent for that fellow, and had the horses valued. And he valued the five hundred horses at a mere measure of rice, and straightway ordered the horse-dealer to be given the measure of rice, and the horses to be lodged in the stable. Then the horse-dealer went to the former valuer, and told him what had happened, and asked him what he should do.
“Give a bribe to that fellow,” said he, “and ask him thus: ‘We know now that so many horses of ours are worth a measure of rice, but we want to know from you what a measure of rice is worth. Can you value it for us, standing in your place by the king?’ If he says he can, go with him into the royal presence, and I will be there too.”
The horse-dealer accepted the Bodisat’s advice, went to the valuer, and bribed him, and gave him the hint suggested. And he took the bribe, and said, “All right! I can value your measure of rice for you.”
“Well, then, let us go to the audience-hall,” said he; and taking him with him, went into the king’s presence. And the Bodisat and many other ministers went there also.
The horse-dealer bowed down before the king, and said, “I acknowledge, O king, that a measure of rice is the value of the five hundred horses; but will the king be pleased to ask the valuer what the value of the measure of rice may be?”
The king, not knowing what had happened, asked, “How now, valuer, what are five hundred horses worth?”
“A measure of rice, O king!” said he.
“Very good, then! If five hundred horses are worth only a measure of rice, what is that measure of rice worth?”
“The measure of rice is worth all Benares, both within and without the walls,” replied that foolish fellow.
For the story goes that he first valued the horses at a measure of rice just to please the king; and then, when he had taken the dealer’s bribe, valued that measure of rice at the whole of Benares. Now at that time the circumference of the rampart of Benares was twelve leagues, and the land in its suburbs was three hundred leagues in extent. Yet the foolish fellow estimated that so-great city of Benares, together with all its suburbs, at a measure of rice!
Hearing this the ministers clapped their hands, laughing, and saying, “We used to think the broad earth, and the king’s realm, were alike beyond price; but this great and famous royal city is worth, by his account, just a measure of rice! O the depth of the wisdom of the valuer! How can he have stayed so long in office? Truly he is just suited to our king!” Thus they laughed him to scorn.
Then the Bodisat uttered this stanza:
What is a measure of rice worth?
All Benares and its environs!
And what are five hundred horses worth?
That same measure of rice![265]
Then the king was ashamed, and drove out that fool, and appointed the Bodisat to the office of Valuer. And in course of time the Bodisat passed away according to his deeds.
When the Teacher had finished preaching this discourse, and had told the double story, he made the connexion, and summed up the Jātaka by concluding, “He who was then the foolish peasant valuer was Udāyin the Simpleton, but the wise valuer was I myself.”
END OF THE STORY OF THE MEASURE OF RICE.
No. 6.
DEVA-DHAMMA JĀTAKA.
On True Divinity.[266]
“Those who fear to sin,” etc.—This the Blessed One told while at Jetavana, concerning a monk of much property.
For a landed proprietor who dwelt at Sāvatthi became a monk, we are told, after the death of his wife. And when he was going to be ordained, he had a hermitage and a kitchen and a storehouse erected for his own use, and the store filled with ghee and rice, and so was received into the Order. And even after he was ordained he used to call his slaves and have what he liked cooked, and ate it. And he was well furnished with all things allowed to the fraternity; he had one upper garment to wear at night and one to wear by day, and his rooms were detached from the rest of the monastery.
One day, when he had taken out his robes and coverlets, and spread them in the cell to dry, a number of brethren from the country, who were seeking for a lodging, came to his cell, and seeing the robes and other things, asked him, “Whose are these?”
“Mine, brother,” said he.
“But, brother, this robe, and this robe, and this under garment, and this under garment, and this coverlet—are they all yours?”
“Yes; mine indeed,” said he.
“Brother, the Buddha has allowed only three sets of robes; yet, though you have entered the Order of the self-denying Buddha, you have furnished yourself thus grandly.” And saying, “Come, let us bring him before the Sage,” they took him, and went to the Teacher.
When the Teacher saw them, he said, “How is it, mendicants, that you bring this brother here against his will?”
“Lord! this mendicant has much property and a large wardrobe.”
“Is this true then, brother, that you have so many things?”
“It is true, O Blessed One!”
“How is it, brother, that you have become thus luxurious? Have not I inculcated being content with little, simplicity, seclusion, and self-control?”
On hearing what the Teacher said, he called out angrily, “Then I will go about in this way!” and throwing off his robe, he stood in the midst of the people there with only a cloth round his loins!
Then the Teacher, giving him support in temptation, said, “But, brother, you had formerly a sense of shame, and lived for twelve years a conscientious life when you were a water-sprite. How then, now, having entered the so honourable Order of the Buddhas, can you stand there throwing off your robes in the presence of all the brethren, and lost to all sense of shame?”
And when he heard the Teacher’s saying, he recovered his sense of propriety, and robed himself again, and bowing to the Teacher stood respectfully aside.
But the monks asked the Teacher to explain how that was. Then the Teacher made manifest the matter which had been hidden by change of birth.
Long ago Brahma-datta was king in Benares, in the country of Kāsi. And the Bodisat of that time assumed re-existence in the womb of his chief queen; and on the day on which they chose a name for him, they gave him the name of Prince Mahiŋsāsa. And when he could run to and fro, and get about by himself, another son was born, whom they called the Moon Prince.
When he could run to and fro, and get about by himself, the mother of the Bodisat died. The king appointed another lady to the dignity of chief queen. She became very near and dear to the king, and in due course she brought forth a son, and they called his name the Sun Prince.
When the king saw his son, he said in his joy, “My love! I promise to give you, for the boy, whatever you ask!”
But the queen kept the promise in reserve, to be used at some time when she should want it. And when her son was grown up, she said to the king, “Your majesty, when my son was born, granted me a boon. Now give me the kingdom for my son!”
The king said, “My two sons are glorious as flames of fire! I can’t give the kingdom to your child alone!” And he refused her.
But when she besought him again and again, he thought to himself, “This woman will surely be plotting some evil against the lads!” And he sent for them, and said, “My boys! when the Sun Prince was born, I granted a boon. And now his mother demands the kingdom for him! I have no intention of giving it to him. But the very name of womankind is cruelty! She will be plotting some evil against you. Do you get away into the forest; and when I am dead, come back and reign in the city that is yours by right!” So, weeping and lamenting, he kissed them on their foreheads, and sent them forth.
As they were going down out of the palace, after taking leave of their father, the Sun Prince himself, who was playing there in the courtyard, caught sight of them. And when he learnt how the matter stood, he thought to himself, “I, too, will go away with my brothers!” And he departed with them accordingly.
They went on till they entered the mountain region of Himālaya. There the Bodisat, leaving the path, sat down at the foot of a tree, and said to the Sun Prince:
“Sun Prince, dear! do you go to yonder pond; and after bathing and drinking yourself, bring us, too, some water in the leaves of the lotus plants.”
Now that pond had been delivered over to a water-sprite by Vessavana (the King of the Fairies), who had said to him:
“Thou art hereby granted as thy prey all those who go down into the water, save only those who know what is true divinity. But over such as go not down thou hast no power.”
So from that time forth, the water-sprite used to ask all those who went down into the water, what were the characteristic signs of divine beings, and if they did not know, he used to eat them up alive.
Now Sun Prince went to the pond, and stepped down into it without any hesitation. Then the demon seized him, and demanded of him:
“Do you know what is of divine nature?”
“Oh, yes! They call the Sun, and the Moon, Gods,” was the reply.
“You don’t know what is of divine nature,” said he, and carrying him off down into the water, he put him fast in his cave.
But the Bodisat, when he found that he was so long in coming, sent the Moon Prince. Him, too, the demon seized and asked him as before:
“Do you know what is of divine nature?”
“Yes, I do. The far-spreading sky is called divine.”[267]
“You then don’t know what is divine,” said he; and he took him, too, and put him in the same place.
When he too delayed, the Bodisat thought to himself, “Some accident must have happened.” He himself, therefore, went to the place, and saw the marks of the footsteps where both the boys had gone down into the water. Then he knew that the pond must be haunted by a water-sprite; and he stood fast, with his sword girded on, and his bow in his hand.
But when the demon saw that the Bodisat was not going down into the water, he took to himself the form of a woodman, and said to the Bodisat:
“Hallo, my friend! you seem tired with your journey. Why don’t you get down into the lake there; and have a bath, and drink, and eat the edible stalks of the lotus plants, and pick the flowers, and so go on your way at your ease?”
And as soon as the Bodisat saw him, he knew that he was the demon, and he said,
“It is you who have seized my brothers!”
“Yes, it is I,” said he.
“What for, then?”
“I have been granted all those who go down into this pond.”
“What? All!”
“Well; all save those who know what beings are divine. The rest are my prey.”
“But have you then any need of divine beings?”
“Yes, certainly.”
“If it be so, I will tell you who are divine.”
“Speak on then; and I shall get to know who have the attributes which are divine.”
Then the Bodisat said, “I would teach you regarding this matter; but I am all unclean with my journey.” And the water-sprite bathed the Bodisat, and provided him with food, and brought him water, and decked him with flowers, and anointed him with perfumes, and spread out for him a couch in a beautiful arbour.
And the Bodisat seated himself there, and made the water-sprite sit at his feet, and said, “Give ear then attentively, and listen what divine nature is.” And he uttered the verse—
The pure in heart who fear to sin,
The good, kindly in word and deed—
These are the beings in the world,
Whose nature should be called divine.
And when the water-sprite heard that, his heart was touched, and he said to the Bodisat—
“O, Wise Teacher, in you I place my trust. I will give you up one of your brothers. Which shall I bring?”
“Bring me the younger of the two.”
“But, Teacher; you who know so well all about the divine nature, do you not act in accordance with it?”
“What do you mean?”
“That neglecting the elder, and telling me to bring the younger of the two, you pay not the honour that is due to seniority.”
“I both know, O Demon, what divinity is, and I walk according to it. It is on that boy’s account that we came to this forest: for it was for him that his mother begged the kingdom from our father, and our father being unwilling to grant that, sent us away to live in the forest, that we might be safe from danger. The lad himself came all the way along with us. Were I to say, ‘An ogre has eaten him in the wilderness,’ no one would believe it. Therefore it is that I, to avoid all blame, have told you to bring him.”
“Verily thou hast spoken well, O Teacher. Thou not only knowest what divinity is, but hast acted as a divinity would.”
And when he had thus magnified the Bodisat with believing heart, he brought forth both the brothers and gave them back to him.
Then said the Bodisat to him, “Friend, it is by reason of evil deeds committed by you in some former birth, that you have been born as an ogre, living on the flesh of other beings. And now you still go on sinning. This thine iniquity will prevent thine ever escaping from rebirth in evil states. From henceforth, therefore, put away evil, and do good!”
With these words he succeeded in converting him. And the ogre being converted, the Bodisat continued to live there under his protection. And one day he saw by the conjunction of the stars that his father was dead. So he took the water-sprite with him and returned to Benares, and took upon himself the kingdom. And he made Moon Prince his heir-apparent, and Sun Prince his commander-in-chief. And for the water-sprite he made a dwelling-place in a pleasant spot, and took care that he should be constantly provided with the best of garlands and flowers and food. And he himself ruled his kingdom in righteousness, until he passed away according to his deeds.
The Teacher having finished this discourse spoke on the Four Truths. And when he had done, that monk entered the First Stage of the Path leading to Nirvāna. And the Buddha having told the double story, made the connexion and summed up the Jātaka by concluding, “The then water-sprite was the luxurious monk; the Sun Prince was Ānanda; the Moon Prince was Sāriputta; but the elder brother, the Prince Mahiŋsāsa, was I myself.”[268]
END OF THE STORY ABOUT TRUE DIVINITY.
No. 9.[269]
MAKHĀ-DEVA JĀTAKA.[270]
The Story of Makhā Deva.
“These grey hairs,” etc.—This the Teacher told when at Jetavana, in reference to the Great Renunciation. The latter has been related above in the Nidāna Kathā.[271]
Now at that time the priests as they sat were magnifying the Renunciation of the One Mighty by Wisdom. Then the Teacher entered the assembly, and sat down in his place, and addressed the brethren, saying, “What is the subject on which you are talking as you sit here?”
“On no other subject, Lord! but on your Renunciation,” said they.
“Mendicants, not then only did the Successor of the Prophets renounce the world; formerly also he did the same.”
The monks asked him to explain how that was. Then the Blessed One made manifest an occurrence hidden by change of birth.
Long ago, in Mithilā, in the land of Videha, there was a king named Makhā Deva, a righteous man, and ruling in righteousness.[272] Eighty-four thousand years he was a prince, as many he shared in the government, and as many he was sovereign. As such he had lived a long, long time, when one day he said to his barber, “My good barber, whenever you find grey hairs on my head, let me know.”
And after a long, long time had passed away, the barber one day found among the jet-black locks one grey hair; and he told the king of it, saying, “There is a grey hair to be seen on your head, O king!”
“Pull it out, then, friend, and put it in my hand!” said he.
So he tore it out with golden pincers, and placed it in the hand of the king. There were then eighty-four thousand years of the lifetime allotted to the king still to elapse. But, nevertheless, as he looked upon the grey hair he was deeply agitated, as if the King of Death had come nigh unto him, or as if he found himself inside a house on fire.[273] And he thought, “O foolish Makhā Deva! though grey hairs have come upon you, you yet have not been able to get rid of the frailties and passions which deprave men’s hearts!”[274]
As he thus meditated and meditated on the appearance of the grey hair, his heart burned within him, drops of perspiration rolled down from his body, and his very robes oppressed him and became unbearable. And he thought, “This very day I must leave the world and devote myself to a religious life!”
Then he gave to the barber a grant of a village whose revenue amounted to a hundred thousand. And he sent for his eldest son, and said to him, “My son! grey hairs have appeared on my head. I am become an old man. I have done with all human hopes; now I will seek heavenly things. It is time for me to abandon the world. Do you assume the sovereignty. I will embrace the religious life, and, dwelling in the garden called Makhā Deva’s Mango-park, I will train myself in the characteristics of those who are subdued in heart.”
His ministers, when he formed this intention, came to him and said, “What is the reason, O king! of your giving up the world?”
Then the king, taking the grey hair in his hand, uttered this verse—
These grey hairs that have come upon my head
Are angel messengers appearing to me,
Laying stern hands upon the evening of my life!
’Tis time I should devote myself to holy thought!
Having thus spoken, he laid down his sovranty that very day, and became a hermit; and living in the Mango-grove of Makhā Deva, of which he had spoken, he spent eighty-four thousand years in practising perfect goodwill towards all beings, and in constant devotion to meditation. And after he died he was born again in the Brahma heaven; and when his allotted time there was exhausted, he became in Mithilā a king called Nimi, and reunited his scattered family.[275] And after that he became a hermit in that same Mango-grove, and practised perfect goodwill towards all beings, and again returned to the Brahma heaven.
The Teacher, having thus discoursed on the subject that not then only, but formerly too, the Successor of the Buddhas had abandoned the world, proclaimed the Four Truths. Some entered the First Stage of the Path to Nirvāna, some the Second, some the Third. And when the Blessed One had thus told the double story, he established the connexion, and summed up the Jātaka as follows: “The barber of that time was Ānanda, the prince was Rāhula, but Makhā Deva the king was I myself.”
END OF THE STORY OF MAKHĀ DEVA.
No. 10.
SUKHAVIHĀRI JĀTAKA.
The Happy Life
“He whom others guard not,” etc.—This the Teacher told while at the Anūpiya Mango-grove, near the town of that name, about the Elder named Bhaddiya the Happy-minded. Bhaddiya the Happy-minded took the vows when the six young noblemen did so together with Upāli.[276] Of these, Bhaddiya and Kimbila and Bhagu and Upāli became Arahats, Ānanda entered the First Stage of the Road to Nirvāna, Anuruddha attained to the Knowledge of the Past and the Present and the Future, and Devadatta acquired the power of Deep Meditation. The story of the six young noblemen, up to the events at Anūpiya, will be related in the Khaṇḍahāla Jātaka.
Now one day the venerable Bhaddiya called to mind how full of anxiety he had been when, as a king, caring for himself like a guardian angel, and surrounding himself with every protection, he had lolled in his upper chamber on his royal couch: and now how free from anxiety he was, when, as an Arahat, he was wandering, here and there, in forests and waste places. And realizing this change, he uttered an exclamation of joy, “Oh, Happiness! Happiness!”
This the monks told the Blessed One, saying, “Bhaddiya is prophesying about Arahatship!”[277]
The Blessed One replied, “Mendicants! not now only is Bhaddiya full of joy; he was so also in a former birth.”
The monks requested the Blessed One to explain how that was. Then the Blessed One made manifest an event hidden through change of birth.
Long ago, when Brahma-datta was reigning in Benares, the Bodisat became a wealthy Brāhman of the north-west country. And perceiving the evils of worldly lusts, and the advantages of the religious life, he abandoned the world, and went to the Himālaya region, and adopted the life of a hermit, and practised the Eight Attainments. And the number of his disciples increased greatly, until he was attended by five hundred ascetics.
In the rainy season he left the Himālayas, and attended by the body of ascetics, journeyed through the towns and villages till he came to Benares, and there took up his dwelling-place under the patronage of the king in the royal park. When he had there passed the four rainy months, he took leave of the king. But the king asked him to stop, saying, “You are old, Sir. Why go to the Himālayas? Send your disciples there, but dwell here yourself!”
So the Bodisat gave the five hundred ascetics in charge to his senior pupil, and sent him away, saying, “You shall go and live with these men in the Himālayas. I will stay here.”
Now the senior pupil was a royal devotee who had abandoned a mighty kingdom for the religious life; and having gone through the course of meditation preparatory thereto, had acquired the eight kinds of spiritual insight.
As he was living in the Himālaya region with the ascetics, he one day conceived a desire to see his teacher, and said to the ascetics, “Do you live on quietly here; I am just going to pay my respects to our teacher, and shall be back soon.”
Then he went to the place where his teacher was, saluted him, and offered him friendly greeting; and spreading a mat on the floor, lay down by his side.
Just then the king also went to the park to see the teacher, and saluting him, took his seat respectfully on one side. Though the disciple saw the king, he did not get up, but lying there just as he was broke forth into a chant of joy, “Oh, Happiness! Oh, Happiness!”
The king, displeased that the ascetic, on seeing him, had not arisen, said to the Bodisat, “Sir, this ascetic must have enjoyed himself to his heart’s content. He lies there, quite at his ease, singing a song!”
“Great king! This ascetic was once a king like you. He is thinking, ‘Formerly, as a layman, even when enjoying royal splendour, and guarded by many men with arms in their hands, I had no such joy as this,’ and he utters this exclamation of joy in reference to the joys of meditation, and to the happiness of the religious life.”
And having thus spoken, the Bodisat further uttered this verse in order to instruct the king in righteousness—
He who needs no others to defend him,
He who has not others to defend,—
He it is who lives at ease, O king!
Untroubled he with yearnings or with lusts.
When the king had listened to this discourse, he was satisfied again; and taking leave, he returned to the palace. And the disciple, too, took his leave, and returned to the Himālaya region. But the Bodisat dwelt there in continued meditation till he died, and he was then reborn in the Brahma heaven.
When the Teacher had preached this discourse, and told the two stories, he established the connexion, and summed up the Jātaka as follows: “The pupil of that time was Bhaddiya the Elder, but the Master of the company of disciples was I myself.”[278]
END OF THE STORY ON A HAPPY LIFE.