The Jātaka, vol. I (Ekanipāta)

One day the great man departed to visit a village of which he was headman, leaving the other in charge of the house. Hearing of his departiire certain robbers made up their mind to break into the house ; and, arming themselves to the teeth, they surrounded it in the night-time. But 'Curse' had a suspicion that burglars might be expected, and was sitting up for them. And when he knew that they had come, he ran about as if to rouse his people, bidding one sound the conch, another beat the dnmi, till he had the whole house fidl of noise, as though he were rousing a whole army of servants. Said the robbers, "The house is not so empty as we were told ; the master must be at home." Flinging away their stones, clubs and other weapons, away they bolted for their lives. Next day great alarm was caused by the sight of all the discarded weapons lying round the house ; and Curse was lauded to the skies by .such praises as this : — " If the house had not been patrolled by one so wise as this man, the robbers would have simply walked in at their own pleasure and have phuidered the house. The Treasurer owes this stroke of good luck to his staunch friend." And the moment the merchant came back from his village they hastened to tell him the whole story.

"Ah," said he, "this is the trusty guardian of my house whom you wanted me to get rid of. If I had taken your advice and got rid of him, I should be a beggar to-day. It's not the name but the heart within that makes the man." So saying he raised his wages. And thinking that here was a good story [365] to tell, off he went to the Master and gave him a complete account of it ail, right through. "This is not the fir.st time, sir," said the Master, "that a friend named Curse has saved his friend's wealth from lobbers ; the like happened in bygone days as well." Then, at Aniltha-pindika's request, he told this story of the past.

Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was a Treasurer of great renown ; and he had a friend whose name was Curse, and so on as in the foregoing story. When on his return from his zemindary the Bodhisatta heard what had happened he said to his friends, " If I had taken your advice atid got rid of my trusty friend, I should liave been a beggar to-day." And he repeated this stanza : — A friend is he that seven steps will go To help us^; twelve attest the comrade true. A fortnight or a month's tried loyalty Makes kindred, longer time a second self. — Then how shall I, who all these years have known My friend, be wise in driving Curse away ? His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "Ananda was the Curse of those days, and I myself the Treasurer of Benares." ^ See Griffith's "Old Indian Poetry," p. 27; and Panini's rule, v. 2. 22.

'■^Seek health" — This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, about a boy who was sage in matters relating to spiritual welfare. When he was only seven years old, the boy, who was the son of a very wealtliy Treasurer, manifested great intelligence and anxiety for his si)iritual welfare; and one day came to his father to ask what were tlie Paths leading to spii-itual welfare. The father could not answer, but he thought to himself, — "This is a very difficult question; from highest heaven to nethermost hell there is none that can answer it, save only the All-knowing Buddha." So he took the child with him to Jetavana, with a quantity of perfumes and flowers and unguents. Arrived there, he did reverence to the Master, bowed down before him, and seating himself on one side, spoke as follows to the Blessed One: — "Sir, this boy of mine, who is intelligent and anxious for his spiritual welfare, has asked me what are the Paths leading to spiritual welfare ; and as I did not know, I came to you. Vouchsafe, O Blessed One, to resolve this question." "Lay- brother," said the Master, "this selfsame question was asked me by this very child in former times, and I answered it for him. He knew tlie answer in bygone days, but now he has forgotten because of change of birth." Then, at the father's request, he told this story of the past.

Once on a time when Bralimadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was a very wealthy Treasurer ; and he had a son who, when only seven years old, manifested great intelligence and anxiety for his^ spiritual welfare. One day the child came to his father to ask what were the Paths leading to spiritual welfare. And his father answered him by repeating this stanza ; — Seek Health, the supreme good; be virtuous; Hearken to elders ; from the scriptures learn ; Conform to Truth ; and burst Attachment's bonds. — For chiefly these six Paths to Welfare lead. [367] In this wise did the Bodhisatta answer his son's question as to the Paths that lead to spiritual welfare ; and the boy from that time forward followed those six rules. After a life spent in charity and other good works, the Bodhisatta passed away to fare thereafter according to his deserts. His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "This child was also the child of those days, and I myself the Lord Treasurer." 212 The Jdtaka. Booh I.

"Js they ivho ate." — This story was told by the Master while at Jetavaiia, about a concupiscent Brother. Tradition says there was a scion of a good family who gave his heart to the Buddha's doctrine and joined the Brotherhood. But one day as he was going his round for alms in Savatthi, he was there stirred to concupiscence by the sight of a beautifully dressed woman. Being brought b}' his teachers and directors before the Master, he admitted in answer to the enquiries of the Blessed One that the spirit of concupiscence had entered into him. Then said the Master, "Verily the five lusts of the senses are sweet in the hour of actual enjoyment, Brother; but this enjoyment of them (in that it entails the miseries of re-birth in hell and the other evil states) is like the eating of the fruit of the AMiat-fruit tree. Very fair to view is the What-fruit, very fragrant and sweet ; but when eaten, it racks the inwards and brings death. In other days, through ignorance [368] of its evil nature, a multitude of men, seduced by the beauty, fragrance and sweetness of the fruit, ate thereof so that they died." So saying, he told this story of the past.

Once upon a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta came to life as the leader of a caravan. Once when journeying with five hundred caits from East to West, he came to the outskirts of a forest. Assembling his men, he said to them : — " In this forest grow trees that bear poisonous fruit. Let no man eat any unfamiliar fruit without first asking me." When they had ti-aversed the forest, they came at the other border on a What-fruit tree with its boughs bending low with their burthen of fruit. In form, smell and taste, its trunk, boughs, leaves and fruit resembled a mango. Taking the tree, from its misleading appearance and so forth, to be a mango, some plucked the fruit and ate ; but others said, " Let us speak to our leader before we eat." And these latter, plucking the fruit, waited for hinx to come up. When he came, he ordered them to fling away the fruit they had plucked, and had an emetic administered to those who had already eaten. Of these latter, some recovered ; but such as had been the first to eat, died. The Bodhisatta reached his destination in safety, and sold his wares at a profit, after which he travelled home again. After a life spent in charity and other good works, he passed away to fare according to his deserts.

It was when he had told this story, that the Master, as Buddha, uttered this stanza : — As they who ate the What-fruit died, so Lusts, When ripe, slay him who knowing not the woe They breed hereafter, stoops to lustful deeds. Having thus shewn that the Lusts, which are so sweet in the hour of fruition, end by slaying their votaries, the Master preaclied the Four Truths, at the close [369] whereof the concupiscent Brother was converted and won the Fruit of the First Path. Of the rest of the Buddha's following some won the First, some the Second, and some the Third Path, whilst others again became Arahats. His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "My disciples were the people of the caravan in those days, and I their leader."

" Ncmght can compare." — This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, about a brahmin who put to the test his reputation for goodness. This Brother, who was maintained by the King of Kosala, had sought the Three Refuges ; he kept the Five Commandments, and was versed in the Three Vedas. "This is a good man," thought the King, and shewed him great honour. But that Brother thought to himself, "The King shews honour to me beyond other brahmins, and has manifested his great regard by making me his spiritual director. But is his favour due to my goodness or only to my Ijirth, lineage, family, country and accomplishments? I must clear this up without delay." Accordingly, one day when he was leaving the palace, he took unbidden a coin from a treasurer's counter, and went his way. Such was the treasurer's venei-ation for the brahmin that he sat perfectly still and said not a word. Next day the brahmin took two coins ; but still the official made no remonstrance. The third day the brahmin took a whole handful of coins. "This is the third day," cried the treasurer, "that you have robl)ed his Majesty;" and he shouted out three times, — "I have caught the thief who robs the treasury." In rushed a crowd of people from every side, crying, "Ah, you've long been posing as a model of goodness." And dealing him two or three blows, they led him before the King.

In great sorrow the King said to him, "What led you, brahmin, to do so wicked a thing T' And he gave orders, saying, "Off with him to punishment." "I am no thief, sire," said the brahmin. "Then why did you take money from the treasury?" "Because you shewed me such gretit honour, sire, and because I made up my mind to find out whether that honour was paid to my birth and the like or only to my goodness. That was ray motive, and now I know for certain (inasmuch as you order me off to punishment) that it was my goodness and not my birth and other advantages, that won me your majesty's favour. Goodness I know to be the chief and supreme good ; I know too that to goodness [370] 1 can

214 The Jataka. Book I. never attain iu this life, whilst I remain a layman, living in the midst of sinful pleasures. Wherefore, this very day I would fain go to the Master at Jetavana and renounce the world for the Brotherhood. Grant me your leave, sire." The King consenting, the brahmin set out for Jetavana. His friends and relations in a body tried to turn him from his purpose, but, finding their efforts of no avail, left him alone. He came to tlie Master and asked to be admitted to the Brotherhood. After admission to the lower and higher orders, he won by application spiritual insight and became an Arahat, whereon he drew near to the IMastei', saying, "Sir, my joining the Order has borne the Supreme Fruit,"— thereby signifying that he had won Arahatship. Hearing of this, the Brethren, assembling in the Hall of Truth, spoke with one another of the virtues of the King's chaplain who tested his own reputation for goodness and who, leaving the King, had now risen to be an Arahat. Entering the Hall, the Master asked what the Brethren were discussing, and they told him. "Not without a precedent, Brethren," said he, "is the action of this brahmin in putting to the test his reputation for goodness and in working out his salvation after renouncing the world. The like was done by the wise and good of bygone days as well." And so saying, he told this story of the past.

Once on a time when Brahniadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was liis chaplain, — a man given to charity and other good works, whose mind was set on righteousness, always keeping unbroken the Five Commandments. And the King honoured him beyond the otlier brahmins ; and everything came to pass as above. But, as the Bodhisatta was being brought in Ijonds l)ef()re the King, he came where some snake-charmers were exhibiting a snake, which they laid hokl of by tlie tail and the throat, and tied round their necks. Seeing this, the Bodhisatta begged the men to desist, for tlie sn;ike might bite them and cut their lives short. " Brahmin," reidied the snakecharmers, "this is a good and well-behaved cobra; he's not wicked like you, who for your wickedness and misconduct are being hauled off in custody." Thought the Bodhisatta to liimself, " Even cobias, if they do not bite or wound, are called 'good.' How much more must this be the case with those who have come to be human beings ! Verily it is just this goodness which is the most excellent thing in all the world, nor [371] does aught surpass it." Tlien he was brought before the King. "What is this, my friends'?" said the King. "Here's a thief who has been robbing your majesty's treasury." "Away witli liim to execution." "Sire," said the brahmin, " I am no thief." " Then how came you to take the money 1 " Hereon the Bodhisatta made answer pi-ecisely as above, ending as follows: — "This then is why I have come to the conclusion that it is goodness which is the highest and most excellent thing in all the world. But be that as it may, yet, seeing that the cobra, when it does not bite or wound, must simply be called 'good' and nothing more, for this reason too it is

goodness alone which is the highest and most excellent of all things." Then in praise of goodness he uttered this stanza : — Naught can compare with Goodness; all the world Can not its equal show. The cobra fell, If men account it 'good,' is saved from death. After preaching the truth to the King in this stanza, the Bodhisatta, abjuring all Lusts, and renouncing the world for the hermit's life, repaired to the Himalayas, where he attained to the five Knowledges and the eight Attainments, earning for himself the sure hope of re-birth thereafter in the Brahma Realm. His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "My disciples were the King's following in those days, and I myself the King's chaplain." [iVoie. Compare Nos. 290, 330, and 362 ; and see Peer's Etudes sur le Jdtaka.]

" Whoso renounces." — This story was told by the Master while at the Bamboogrove about a brahmin who was skilled in the prognostications [372] which can be drawn from pieces of cloth i. Tradition says that at Rajagaha dwelt a brahmin who was superstitious and held false views, not believing in the Three Gems. This brahmin was very rich and wealthy, abounding in substance; and a female mouse gnawed a suit of clothes of his, which was lying by in a chest. One day after bathing himself all over, he called for this suit, and then was told of the mischief which the mouse had done. " If these clothes stop in the house," thought he to himself, "they'll bring ill-luck; such an ill-omened thing is sure to bring a curse. It is out of the question t<.) give them to any of my children or servants ; for whosoever has them will bring misfortune on all around him. I must have them thrown away in a charnel-grouud-; but how? I cannot hand them to servants ; for they might covet and keep them, to the ruin of my house. JNIy son must take them." So he called his son, and telling him the whole matter bade him take his charge on a stick, without touching the clothes with his hand, and liing them away in a charnel-ground. Then the sou was to bathe himself all over and return. Now that morning at dawn of day the Master looking

^ Cf. Tevijja Sutta translated by Rhys Davids in "Buddhist Suttas," p. 197. ^ An umaka-susdna was an open space or grove in which corpses were exposed for wild-beasts to eat, in order that the earth might not be defiled. Cf. the Parsee ' Towers of Silence.' 216 The Jatakct. Booh I. round to see what persons could be led to the truth, became aware that the fether and son were predestined to attain salvation. So he betook himself in the guise of a hunter on liis way to hunt, to the charnel-ground, and sate down at the entrance, emitting the six-coloured rays that mark a Buddha. Soon there came to the spot the young brahmin, carefully carrying the clothes as his father had bidden him, on the end of his stick,— just as though he had a house-snake to carry. "What are you doing, young brahmin?" asked the Master. "]\Iy good Gotamai," ^^s the reply, "this suit of clothes, having been gnawed by mice, is like ill-luck personified, and as deadly as though steeped in venom ; wherefore my father, fearing that a servant might covet and retain the clothes, has sent me with them. I promised that I would tlirow them away and bathe afterwards; and that's the errand that has brought me here." "Throw the suit away, then," said the Master; and the young brahmin did so. "They will just suit me," said the Master, as he picked up the fate-fraught clothes before the young man's very eyes, regardless of the latter's earnest warnings and repeated entreaties to him not to take them; and he departed in the direction of the Bamboo- grove.

Home in all haste ran the young brahmin, to tell his father how the Sage Gotama had declared that the clothes would just suit him, and had persisted, in spite of all warnings to the contrary, in taking the suit away with him to the Bamboo-grove. "Those clothes," thought the brahmin to himself, "are bewitched and accursed. Even the sage Gotama cannot wear them without destruction befalling him ; and that would Vu-ing me into disrepute. 1 will give the Sage abundance of other gtirments and get him to throw that suit away." So with a large number of robes he started in company of his son for the Bamboo-grove. AVhen he came upon the Master he stood respectfully on one side and spoke thus, — "Is it indeed true, as I hear, that you, my good Gotama, [373] picked up a suit of clothes in the charnel-ground?" "Quite true, brahmin." "My good Gotama, that suit is accursed ; if you make use of them, they will destroy you. If you stand in need of clothes, take these and throw away that suit." "Brahmin," replied the Master, "by open profession I have renounced the world, and am content with the rags that lie by the roadside or bathing-places, or are thrown away on dustheaps or in charnel-grounds. Whereas you have held your superstitious in bygone days, as well as at the present time." So saying, at the brahmin's request, he told this story of the past.

Once on a time there reigned in the city of Rajagaha, in the kingdom of Magadha, a righteous King of Magadha. In those days the Bodhisatta came to life again as a brahmin of the North-west. Growing up, be renounced the world for the hermit's life, won the Knowledges and the Attainments, and went to dwell in the Himalayas. On one occasion, returning from the Himalayas, and taking up his abode in the King's pleasaunce, he went on the second day into the city to collect alms. Seeing him, the King had him summoned into the palace and there provided with a seat and with food, — exacting a promise from him that he would take up his abode in the pleasaunce. So the Bodhisatta used to receive his food at the palace and dwell in the grounds. ' In Pali hlio Gotama, — a form of familiar address. Brahmins are always represented as presuming to say hho to the Buddha. Now in those days there dwelt in that city a brahmin known as Cloth-omens. And he had in a chest a suit of clothes which were gnawed by mice, and everything came to pass just as in the foregoing story. But when the son was on his way to the charnel-ground the Bodhisatta got there first and took his seat at the gate ; and, picking up the suit which the young brahmin threw away, he returned to the pleasaunce.

When the son told this to the old brahmin, the latter exclaimed, " It will be the death of the King's ascetic " ; and entreated the Bodhisatta to throw that suit away, lest he should perish. But the ascetic replied, " Good enough for us are the rags that are flung away in charnel-grounds. We have no belief in superstitions about luck, which are not approved by Buddlias, Pacceka Buddhas, or Bodhisattas ; and therefore no wise man ought to be a believer in luck." Hearing the truth thus expounded, tlie brahmin forsook his errors and took refuge in the Bodhisatta. And the Bodhisatta, preserving his Insight unbroken, earned re-birth thereafter in the Brahma Realm. [374.]

Having told this story, the Master, as Buddha, taught the Truth to the brahmin in this stanza : — Whoso renounces omens, dreams and signs, That man, from superstition's errors freed, Shall triumph o'er the paired Depravities And o'er Attachments to the end of time. When the Master had thus preached his dcjctrinc to the l)rahiain in the form of this stanza, he proceeded further to jn-each the Four Truths, at the close whereof that brahmin, with his son, attained to the First Path. The Master identified the Birth by saying, "The father and son of to-day were also the father and son of those days, and I myself the ascetic."

''Speak /!-i/ic%."— This story was told 1)}^ the Master while at Sfivattlii, aV)Out the precept touching abusive language. The introductory story and the story of the past are the same as in the Nandivisala-jataka above'. But in tliis case [375] there is the difference that tlie Bodhisatta was an ox named Sarambha, and belonged to a brahmin of Takkasila in the kingdom 218 The Jdtaka. Booh I. of (iandhara. Aftci- telling the story of the past, the Master, as Buddha, uttered this stanza: — Si)cak kindly, revile not your fellow; Love kindness; reviling breeds sorrow. When tlie Master had ended his lesson he identified the Birth by saying, "Ananda was the brahmin of those days, Uppalavanna his wife, and 1 Sarainbha."

^'How plausible.'^ This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana lUt a knave. The details of his knavery will be related in the Uddfda-jatakai. Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, there lived hard l)y a certain little village a shifty rascal of an ascetic, of the class which wears long, matted hair. The squire of the place had a hermitage built in the forest for him to dwell in, and used to provide excellent fare for him in his own house. Taking the matted-haired rascal to be a model of goodness, and living as he did in fear of robbers, the squire brought a hundred pieces of gold to the hermitage and there buried them, bidding the ascetic keep watch over them. " No need to say that, sir, to a man who has renounced the world ; we hermits never covet other folks' goods." "It is well, sir," said the squire, who went off with full confidence in the other's protestations. Then the rascally ascetic thought to himself, " there's enough here [376] to keep a man all his life long." Allowing a few days to elapse first, he removed the gold and buried it by tlie wayside, returning to dwell as before in his hermitage. Next day, after a meal of rice at the squire's house, the ascetic said, "It is now a long time, sir, since I began to be supported by you ; and to live long in one j^lace is like living in the world, — which is forbidden to professed ascetics. Wherefore I must needs depart." And though the squire pi'essed him to stay, nothing could overcome this determination.

" Well, then, if it luust be so, go your way, sir," said the squire ; and he escorted the ascetic to the outskirts before he left him. After going a little way the ascetic thought that it would be a good thing to cajoh; the squire ; so, putting a straw in his matted hair, back he turn(!d again. " What brings you back 1 " asked the squire. " A straw from your roof, sir, had stuck in my hair ; and, as we hermits may not take anything which is not bestowed upon us, I have brought it back to you." "Throw it down, sir, aiid go your way," said the squire, who thought to liimself, " Why, he won't take so much as a straw which does not belong to him ! What a sensitive nature!" Highly delighted with the ascetic, the squire bade him farewell. Now at that time it chanced that the Bodhisatta, who was on his way to the border-district for trading purjioses, had halted for the night at that village. Hearing what the ascetic said, the sus[)icion was aroused in his mind that the rascally ascetic must have robbed the squire of something ; and he asked the latter whether he had deposited anything in the ascetic's care.

" Yes, — a hundred pieces of gold." " Well, just go and see if it's all safe." Away went the squire to the hermitage, and looked, and found his money gone. Running back to the Bodhisatta, he cried, "It's not there." "The thief is none other than that long-haired rascal of an ascetic," said the Bodhisatta; "let us pursue and catch him." So away they hastened in hot pursuit. When they caught the rascal they kicked and cuffed him, till he discovered to them where he had hidden the money. When lie procured the gold, the Bodhisatta, looking at it, scornfully remarked to the ascetic, " So a hundred pieces of gold didn't trouble your conscience so much as that sti'aw!" And he rebuked him in this stanza : — How plausible the story that the rascal told ! How heedful of the straw I How heedless of the gold I [377] When the Bodhisatta had rebuked the fellow in this wise, he added, — " And now take care, you hypocrite, that you don't play such a trick again." When his life ended, the Bodhisatta 2'assed away to fare thereafter according to his deserts. His le«S(in ended, the Master said, "Thus you see, Brethren, that this lirother was as knavish in the past as he is to-day." And he identitied the Birtli by saying, "This knavish Brother was the knavish ascetic of those days, and I the wise and srood man."

220 The Jataka. Booh I.

" The man ungrateful." — This story was tokl by the Master while at Jetavana, alM)ut Aiiatha-pindika. On the borders, so the tale goes, there lived a merchant, who was a correspondent and a friend of An.itha-pindika'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 Anathapindika, and barter the wares in his correspondent's shop for their value, and bring back the goods received in exchange. So they came to Savatthi, and found Anatha-pindika. 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 encpiiries after their master's health, he bartered their merchandise and gave them the goods in exchange. Then they went back to Lheir own district, and reported what had happened. Shortly afterwards, Anatha-pindika 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 fromT' said he. "From Savatthi," replied they ; "from your correspondent, Anatha-pindika." "Anyone can call himself Anatha-pindika," 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 wai'cs in exchange to Savatthi, with the story of the reception they had had.

Now it chanced [378] that this border merchant despatched another caravan of fiv^e hundred carts to Savattlii ; and his people came with a present in their hands to wait upon Anatha-pindika. But, as soon as Anatha-pindika'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 Anatha-pindika's house. About the middle watch of the night, having collected a band 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, lea\'ing 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 Anatha-pindika's people told him the whole story. "This capital story," said he, "shall be niy 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 Anatha-pindika's request, he told the following story of the past.

Once ou a time when Brahmadatta was reignino; in Benares, the Bodhisatta was a very wealthy merchant in that city. And he too had as a correspondent a l>order merchant whom he had never seen and all came to pass as above. 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. 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 ])order merchant of to-day was the border merchant of those days also ; and T was the merchant of Benares."

"i7e holts the die." — This stury was told by the blaster 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 Eequisites 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 shewed 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 ofl:' 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 shar})er, 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 Avhich he would take himself off. [380] "Very good," said the Bodhisatta

222 The Jataka. Book I. 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 beffiin. 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 lie 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. 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 diaught 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 j)assed away to fare thereafter according to his desei'ts.

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 woi'ds, "I was myself the wise and good gambler of those days." {Pali 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.")

^'For toar men cra<;e."— This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, about the venerable Ananda. 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 truth from his own lips, to do obeisance, and to make offerings to him. We live here as in a box. I^et lis ask the King to send for a fitting Brother to come here and teach us the truth. Let us learn what we can from hitn, and be 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 i)leasaunce, and gave orders that the grounds should be made ready for his coming. As the gardener was working away, he espied the 1\I aster 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 weTit to the Master in the pleasaunce.

Now there was then seated at the Master's feet, listening to his teaching, a lay-brother named Chattapani, 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 Buddlia, 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, tlie 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 scriptiu-es that have been handed down ; and he has set himself free from the bondage of passion." "Surely," thought the King, "he whose praises the Miister 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 l After talking it over together, the ladies with one accord chose Ananda^ 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 Ananda might be their teacher. The Master, having consented to send Ananda, 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 Ananda 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

1 Anauda 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.). 224 The Jataka. Book I. any more about it," said the Elder cheerily, as he went to find the King. Takins? the scat set for hira, the Elder asked whether it Avas true that his majesty had lost his jewel. "(,)uite true, sir," said the King. "And can it not be found?" "I have had all the inmates of the palaces won-ied out of their lives, and yet I can't find it." "There is one way, sire, to find it, without woj-rying 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 liersons 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 days. In this way, a large number of ])ersons 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 outergarments, 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, "Ananda 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 Ananda for the trouble he had saved them from.

The story how Ananda'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 Ananda 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 Ananda, the ISIaster 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 Ananda 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, shewing 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, liaving 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 the water. Now, as the queen was taking off lier jewels and ornaments, and laying them with her upper i-obe 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 giil kept looking all about her in order to keep the jewels [384] safe ; but as time Moi'e 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 I'ound 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 told it to the King. "Catch the thief," said his majesty ; and away went the guards seai'ching high and low for the thief in the pleasaunce. Heainng the din, a poor superstitioiis rustic' took to his heels in alarm. "There he goes," ci"ied the guaixls, catching sight of the runaway; and they followed hira 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. Hereupon 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

I Or perhaps "a taxpaying ryot." 226 The Jataka. Book I. 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 merinly in prison ; vvhilst 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 valual)le 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 oflBcers of state, stand togethei', 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 monkey kept sitting in tlie trees watching her treasure. Then the Bodhisatta ordered a number of men to carefully observe eveiy monkey in the grounds, till they saw one wearing the uiissing 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 Haunted 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 1" asked the King; "and how did you manage to get possession of it again 1" 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 coimsel sage sobriety. Boon comrades for tlieir jollity. But judgment when in parlous plight. 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, "Ananda was the King of those days and I his wise counsellor."

"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 kinsf<jlk. Arguing that in their lay state they had as a matter of course received things from the same hands, tlioy, ;is Brethren, 228 The Jataka. Booh I. likewise shewed no circumspection or caution before using food, clothing and other requii-itos which their relations gave them. Observing this the IMaster 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 inito taking ])oison ; and poison kills just the same, whethei' 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 bi-ought them to the Bodhisatta, who said, "Affection for others sIkjuUI 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. Bohtlingk's "Indische Spriiche," (1st ed.) Nos. 1465—7 and 4346.]

"Now scorchedy —IXna story the Master told while at Patikaraina near Vasali, about Sunakkhatta. For at that time Sunakkhatta, having become an adlierent of the Master, was travelling about the country as a Brotlier with bowl and robes, when he was perverted to the tenets of Koi'a the Kshatriya'. So he returned to the Blessed Buddha his bowl and robes and reverted to a lay life by reason of Kora the Kshatriya, al)Out the time when this latter liad been re-born as the offspring of the Kalakanjaka Asm-a. And he went about within the tla-ee walls of Vesali defaming the Master by affirming that there was nothing superhuman about the sage Uotania, 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-. Now the reverend Sariputta was on his round for alms when he heard Sunakkhatta's blas])hemies ; and on his return from his round he reported this to the Blessed One. Said the Master, "Sunakkhatta is a hot-headed jterson, Sariputta, 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, Sariputta, dwell the Six Knowledges, and herein am 1 more than human ; the Ten Powers are within me, and the Four Grounds of Contidence. 1 know the limits of the four types of earthly existence and the live states of possible I'e-birth after earthly death. This too is a superhuman quality in me; and whoso denies it must i-etract his words, change his Ijelief, 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, 1 hear, Sariputta, took delight in the misguided self-mortitications of the asceticism of Kora the Kshatriya; and therefore it was that he could take no pleasure in me. Ninety-one jcons ago I lived the higher life in all its foui' foi'ms-*, 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 tlie Elder's request, he told this story of the past.

Once on a time, ninety-one seons ago, the Bodhisatta set himself to examine into the false asceticism. So lie became a recluse, according to the Naked Ascetics (Ajlvikas), — unclothed and covered with dust, solitary and lonely, fleeing like a deer from the face of men; his food was small ^ See Hardy's Manual of Budhism, p. 330. 2 This is a quotation from the Mujjhima Nikdi/a i. 68. '' i.e. as a learner, househokler, religietioc, and recluse. 230 The Jataka. Book I. iish, 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, tlie hermit wrestles for the Triith. [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." [A^ote. For the 'story of the past' ? cf. Carlyd rital-a, p. 102. For the introductory story see Sutta No. 12 of the Majjhima Nikaya.]

"//ow transient" — This story was told by the Master as he lay on his deathbed, concerning Ananda'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 Sariputta\ who was born in Nala village, died at Varaka in the month of Kattika, when the moon was at the full ; and in the selfsame month, when the 1 For the death of Sruiixitta, see Bigaudet's 'Legend of the Burmese Buddha.' mooa was on the wane, the great Moggallaiia dicd^ My two cliicf disciples being dead, I too will pass away, in Kusiuarfi."— So thought the Blessed One; and coming in his alms-pilgrimage to Kusinaril, there upon the Northward bench between the twin Sal-trees he lay down never to rise again. Then said the Elder Ananda, "O Blessed One, suffer not your end to be in this sorry little town, this rough little town in the jungle, this little suljurban town. Shall not Rajagaha or some other large city be the death -place of the Buddha?" "Nay, Ananda," 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 Maha-Sudassana Sutta^.

Then it was that Sudassana's queen Subhaddii 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'^ which was all of gold and jewels, — that couch from which he wa.s not to rise again. And she said, " Eighty-four tliousand cities, chief of which is the royal-city of KusavatT, 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 eightyfour 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'*. 1 For the death of Moggallaua, see Fausboll's Dhammapada, p. 21j8, and Bigaudet, op. cit. ^ The 17th Sutta of the Digha NikSya, translated by Rhys Davids in Vol. xi. of the S. B. E. 3 See pp. 267 and 277 of Vol. xi. of the S. B. E. for this imlm-grove. * This translation is borrowed from the Hibbert Lectures of Prof. Ehys 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 Pali Buddhist books." 232 The Jdtaka. Book I. [393] Thus did the great Sudassana lead liis discuiii\se up to ambrosial Nirvuua as its goal. Moreover, to the rest of the multitude he gave the exhortation to be charitable, to obey tlie Oummandmeiits, and to keep liaUowed the fast days. The destiny he won was to be re-born thereafter in the Kealm of Devas. His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "The mother of Rahula' was the Queen Subhadda of those days; Rahula was the King's eldest son ; the disciples of the Buddha were his courtiers ; and 1 myself the great Sudassana."

\^Notc. For the evolution of this .Jataka, see the ifahd-parinihhdna Sutta and the Maha -Sudassana Sutta, translated by Prof. Rhys Davids in his volume of "Buddhist Suttas."!

"J. 5 one ivitli care." — This story was told by the Master while dwelling in a forest near the town of Desaka in the Sumbha ccninti-y, concerning the JanapadaKalyani Sutta-. For on that occasion the Blessed One said: — "Just as if. Brethren, a great crowd were to gathei- 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 oft" your head';— what think you. Brethren? Would that man, under these circumstances, be careless, and take no pains in carrying that pot of oilT' "By no manner of means, sir." "This is an allegory [394], which I framed to make my

1 This is the general style in the cauou of the wife of Gotama 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 Pali Pitakas which mentions this lady." For she is mentioned in the Buddhavamsa (P. T. S. edition, page G5), and her name is there given as Bhaddakaeca. - It is not yet known where this Sutta occurs. A Pali summary of it has been left untranslated, as adding little or nothing to the above 'Introductory Story.' meaning clear, Brethren; and here is its moaning: — The hriniming pot of oil tyjjifies a collected state of mind as regards things concerning the body, and the lesson to be learnt is that such mindfulness should be practiseil and perfected. Fail not in this. Brethren." So saying, the Master gave forth the Sutta cojiccrning the Belle of the Land, with both text and interpretation. [39r)] Then, by way of application, the Blessed One went on to say, — "A I'rother 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 |)ot of oil."

When they had heard the Sutta and its meaning, the Brethren said: — "It was a hard task, sir, for tlie man to pass by with the pot of oil without gazing on the charms of the Belle of the Land." "Not hard at all, lirethren ; it was (juite 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 foi- tlic wise and good of bygone days to preserve right mindfulness and to ciu'b tlieir 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 st(jry (jf the past. Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was the youngest of the King's hundred sons, and gi-ew 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, tlie 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 Gandhara, two thousand leagues away, there stands the city of Takkasila. If you can reach that city, in seven days you will become king there. But there is peril ou the road thither, in journeying through a great forest. It is double the distance round the forest that it is to })ass through it. Ogres have their dwelling therein, and ogresses make villages and liouses 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 tliem while the warm

234 The Jdtaka. Book I. 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 Takkasila." "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 Takkasila 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; "fori 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 Takkasila." " 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 di-opping behind 1 " 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 man, 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 wlien they had eaten him, they went on further, and sat on heavenly couches wrought by their magic arts. And here the lover of comfort fell behind. And him too they ate.

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 ei'e she turned back. Fui'ther 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 lier trust in you, why don't you walk with her instead of letting her trudge wearily Ix-hind you?" "She is no wife of mine, but an ogress. She has eaten my live 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 ]>odhisatta. Everyone they met asked just the same qnestions about the pair, and the Bodhisatta gave just the same answer as he journeyed on. At last he came to Takkasila, 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 Takkasila 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 th€ 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 lie 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 I'oyal bed. The ogress too jjrepared 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 V)urst 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

236 Tlie Jdtaka. Book I. 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'. So I cannot give you power and authority over the w^hole 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 hade 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 fiexli, leaving only the bare bones. And the rest of the ogres entering the gate devoured everything as it came in their v/ay, not leaving even a fowl or a dog alive. JNext day when })eople 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 wjfe 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 Resthouse, 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 oneminded in the matter. So the Bodhisatta, being chosen king, was escorted into the capital and there decked in jewels and anointed king of Takkasila. 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.

Cf. Milinda-panho 359 for an exposition of the limited prerogative of kings. 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 foi'cign 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 Ijirth by saying, "The Buddha's disciples were in those days the king's courtiers, and I the prince that won a kingdom."

'■'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 Takkasila, 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 tiavel 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 238 The Jataka. Book I. journey wandered from village to village till be came 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. Yovi 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 1 " " 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 re})ly. "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."

[404] " Wise right!)/, Wisest wrongly." — This story was told by the ^faster while at Jetavana, aljout a cheating merchant. There were two merchants in partnership at Savatthi, we are told, who travelled with their merchandise and came Vjack 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 oft" 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 I\Iaster what had beftiUen 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 tiie past.

Once on a time wlien 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 {jartnership 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 tlie 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

240 The Jataha. Booh I. case. The clieat 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 : — AVise 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 j'our 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."

'■^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 Sarabhanga-jatakai.) On a certain occasion the Brethren met in the Hall of Truth and praised the wisdom of Sariputta, 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 Sariputta. 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 Bodhi- .satta was born a Northern brahmin and j)erfected his education at Takkasila. Putting Lu.sts from him and renouncing the world for the hermit's life, he 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 wonf

"Won?" said he; "I have won Nothing'^." So saying, he died, but was reborn in the Brahma Realm of Radiant Devas. (For Bodhisattas even though they may have attained to the highest state ai-e 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 })lain 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 Bii-th by saying, "Sfiriputta was the chief disciple of those days, and I Mahfi-Brahma." 1 One of the highest Attainments was the insight into the nothingness of things; everything being a delusion. 242 The Jataka. Book I.

"/m gtdse of joy." — This story was told by the INIaster while at Kundadhanavana near the city of Kiindiya about Suppavasa, 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: — ''AllEnlightened 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 doth 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 Suppavasa, 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, Suppavasa, 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 tlie Buddha. Now that her child was born, Suppavasa was eager to shew 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 Moggallana the Great; but the Master, wishing to gratify Suppavasa's charitable desires, sent to the Elder to explain the matter, and with the Brotherhood accepted for seven days the hospitality of Suppavasa. On the seventh day she dressed up her little boy, whose name was Sivali, and made him bow before the Buddha and the Brotherhood. And when he was brought in due course to Sariputta, the Elder in all kindness greeted the infant, saying, "Well, Sivali, 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 Suppavasa exclaimed, "My child, only seven days old, is actually discoursing on religion with the apostle Sariputta, the Captain of the Faith ! " "Would you like another such a child?" asked the Master. "Yes, sir;" said Suppavasa, "seven more, if I could have them like him." In solemn phrase the Master gave thanks for Suppavasa's hospitality and departed. At seven years of age the child Sivali 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 Sivah, 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 Sivali [409] was seven years in the womb and seven days in birth all because of his own past deeds. And similarly Suppavasa's seven years' pregnancy and seven days' travail resulted from her own past deeds." bo saying, he told this story of the past.

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 Takkasila, 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 woiild 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 Vipassi, 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 SuppavJisa sent the message bidding her son take the city by blockade, she was doomed to a seven yeai's' 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, "Sivali was the prince who in those days blockaded the city, and became king ; Suppavasa was his mother, and I his father, the king of Benares."

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-Jataka (No. 99), with the sole difi'erence that 'think liard' is read here. 244 The Jataka. Book I.

"^e that should prove."— This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, about a lay-brother who was a greengrocer in Savatthi 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 daiighter 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 bm-st 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 oidy 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 ]\Iaster, 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 Braliraadatta 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 same doubts of his daughter, and all fell out as in the introductory story. And as her father took hold of lier liand 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 ; ]\Iy 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. 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 Master 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."

"//" wise, thou ''It loiter ?io<."— This story was t(jld by the Master at Jetavana about Anatha-pindika. For we hear that Anatha-pindika 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 Savatthi." So he urged his oxen to speed [413] and got safely into Savatthi. Next day he went to the monastery and told the blaster 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 'It 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." 246 TTi(^ Jataka. Book I.

'■'■From foxhr to eighC^ — 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 MittavindakaS 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 1 " The Bodhisatta detailed the man's evil deeds to him and uttered this stanza : — From four to eight, to sixteen thence, and so To thirty-two insatiate greed doth go, — Still pressing on till iusatiety 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 accordinc: to his deserts. His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "This unruly Brother was then Mittavindaka and I the Deva."

''Fear' St thoxo 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 Savatthi, and was led to give up the world by hearing the Truth preached, and that he was always in fear of his life - Part of these lines occur iii the Pauca Tantra 98. 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 svu'e to come ui)on 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 sufiiced 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." 248 The Jataka. Booh I.

"A happy life was mineJ' — Tliis story was told by the Master while at Jctavana, about a temptation by a fat girl. The incident will be related in the Culla-Narada-Kassapa Jataka ' 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 Bralimadatta was reigning in Benares, those things came to pass which will be told in the Culla-Narada-Kassapa Jataka. 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 1 " " Fatlier," 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 \iY>, the Bodhisatta bade him go, saying " But when she wants meat [417] or fish or ghee or salt or rice or any such thing to eat, and sends you hurrying to and fi'o on her errands, then remember this hei'mitage 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 promjjtly 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 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 young Brother was the son ; and I the father of those days."

[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 Savatthi, 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 woi'ld, 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 Aciravatl^, and was standing on the bank 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 bi-ought 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 lougwinded that, when he once started, no 1 The modern Rilpti, iu Oudh. 250 The Jataka. Book I. 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 Benai-es 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 covei'ed 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 peashooter 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 mixch 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 j)ut 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, skill should be cultivated by the wise. Mere skill in aiming has brought this cripple all this pros[)erity." 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 tif those days, Ananda the King, and I the wise courtier."

"Learn thou betimes." — This story was told by the Master, while he was dwelling in the Gabled Chamber at the Great Grove near Vesali, about a Licchavi, a pious prince who had embraced the Truth. He had invited the Brotherhood with the Buddha at their liead 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 x)ast. [421] Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning iu 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. Bendinodown 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 throufdi 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 252 The Jdtaka. Book I. 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 siich 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 projoer 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."

"As fares his loors/dpperJ' — This story was told by the IMaster when at Savatthi, about a very poor man. Now at Savatthi the Brotherhood with the Buddha at their head used to be entertained now by a single family, now by three or four ffxmilies together. Or a body of people or a wh<jle street would club together, or sometimes the whole city entertained them. But on the occasion now in question it was a street that was shewing tlie 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 man'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,