SAKUNA-JATAKA.
This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, about a Brother whose small room was burnt down.
Tradition says that a Brother, having been given a theme for meditation by the Master, went from Jetavana to the land of Kosala
After
three months spent in the open air in discomfort, that Brother had
developed his theme for meditation, but could get no further. So, after
the Pavarana-festival which ends the Rainy Season, he went back again to
the Master, and, with due salutation, took his seat aside. After kindly
words of greeting, the Master said, "Well, Brother, have you lived
happily. through the Rainy Season? Did your theme for meditation end in
success?" The Brother told him all that had happened, adding, "As I had
no lodging to suit me, my theme did not end in success."
Said
the Master, "In bygone times, Brother, even animals knew what suited
them and what did not. How is it that you did not know'?" And so saying,
he told this story of the past.
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Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares ,
the Bodhisatta was born a bird and lived round a giant tree with
branching boughs, at the head of a company of birds. Now one day, as the
boughs of this tree were grinding one against the other, dust began to
fall, soon followed by smoke. When the Bodhisatta became aware of this,
he thought to himself: "If these two boughs go on grinding against one
another like this, they will produce fire; and the fire will fall and
catch hold of the old leaves, and so come to set fire to this tree as
well. We cannot live on here; the proper thing to do is to hasten off
elsewhere." And he repeated this stanza to the company of birds:--
Ye residents of air, that in these boughs
Have sought a lodging, mark the seeds of fire
This earthborn tree is breeding! Safety seek
In flight! Our trusted stronghold harbours death!
The
wiser birds who followed the Bodhisatta's counsels, at once rose up in
the air and went elsewhere in his company. But the foolish ones said,
"It is always like this with him; he's always seeing crocodiles in a
drop of water." And they, heeding not the Bodhisatta's words, stopped
where they were. In a very short time, just as the Bodhisatta had
foreseen, flames really did break out, and the tree caught fire. When
the smoke and flame arose, the birds, blinded by the smoke, were unable
to get away; one by one they dropped into the flames and were destroyed.
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"Thus,
Brethren," said the Master, "in bygone times even animals who were
dwelling in the tree-top, knew what suited them and what did not. How is
it that you did not know?" His lesson ended, he preached the Truths, at
the close whereof that Brother won the Fruit of the First Path. Also,
the Master showed the connection, and identified the Birth by saying,
"The Buddha's disciples were then the birds who hearkened to the
Bodhisatta, and I myself was the wise and good bird."
BAKA-JATAKA.
BAKA-JATAKA.
"Cunningness profits not."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, about a tailoring Brother.
Tradition
says that at Jetavana dwelt a Brother who was exceedingly skilful in
all operations to be performed with a robe, such as cutting, joining,
arranging, and stitching Because of this skill, he used to fashion robes
and so got the name of 'The Robe-tailor.' What, you ask, did he
do?--Well, he exercised his craft on old bits of cloth and turned out a
nice soft robe, which, after the dyeing was done, he would enhance in
colour with a wash containing flour to make a dressing, and rub it with a
shell, till he had made it quite smart and attractive. Then he would
lay his handiwork aside.
Being
ignorant of robe-making, Brethren used to come to him with brand-new
cloth, saying, "We don't know how to make robes; you make them for us."
"Sirs,"
he would reply, "a robe takes a long time making; but I have one which
is just finished. You can take that, if you will leave these cloths in
exchange." And, so saying, he would take his out and chew it them. And
they, marking only its fine colour, and knowing nothing of what it was
made of, thought it was a good strong one, and so handed over their
brand-new cloth to the 'Robe-maker' and went off with the robe he gave
them. When it got dirty and was being washed in hot water, it revealed
its real character, and the worn patches were visible here and there.
Then the owners regretted their bargain. Everywhere that Brother became
well-known for cheating in this way all who came to him.
Now,
there was a robe-maker in a hamlet who used to cheat everybody just as
the brother did at Jetavana. This man's friends among the Brethren said
to him, "Sir, they say that at Jetavana there is a robe-maker who cheats
everybody just like you." Then the thought struck him, "Come now, let
me cheat that city man!" So he made out of rags a very fine robe, which
he dyed a beautiful orange. This he put on and went to Jetavana. The
moment the other saw it, he coveted it, and said to its owner, "Sir, did
you make that robe?" "Yes, I did, sir," was the reply. "Let me have
that robe, sir; you'll get another in its place." "But, sir, we
village-Brethren find it hard to get the Requisites; if I give you this,
what shall I have to wear myself?" "Sir, I have some brand-new cloth at
my lodging; take it and make yourself a robe." "Reverend sir, herein
have I shown my own handiwork; but, if you speak thus, what can I do?
Take it." And having cheated the other by exchanging the rag-robe for
the new cloth, he went his way.
After
wearing the substandard robe in his turn, the Jetavana man was washing
it not long afterwards in warm water, when he became aware that it was
made out. of rags; and he was put to shame. The whole of the Brotherhood
heard the news that the Jetavana man had been cheated by a robe-tailor
from the country.
Now,
one day the Brethren were seated in the Hall of Truth, discussing the
news, when the Master entered and asked what they were discussing; and
they told him all about it.
Said
the Master, "Brethren, this is not the only occasion of the Jetavana
robe-maker's cheating tricks; in bygone times also he did just the same,
and, as he has been cheated now by the roan from the country, so was he
too in bygone times." And so saying, he told this story of the past.
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Once
on a time the Bodhisatta came to life in a certain forest-haunt as the
Tree-sprite of a tree which stood near a certain lotus-pond. In those
days the water used every summer to fall very low in a certain pond, not
very big,--which was plentifully stocked with fish. Catching sight of
these fish, a certain crane said to himself, "I must find a way to
cajole and eat these fish." So he went and sat down in deep thought by
the side of the water.
Now
when the fishes caught sight of him, they said, "Of what are you
thinking, my lord, as you sits there?" "I am thinking about you," was
the reply. "And what is your lordship thinking about us?" "The water in
this pool being low, food scarce, and, the heat intense,--I was
wondering to myself, as I sat here, what in the world you fishes would
do." "And what are we to do, my lord?" "Well, if you'll take my advice,
I will take you up one by one in my beak, and carry you all off to a
fine large pool covered with the five varieties of lotuses, and there
put you down." "My lord," said they, no crane ever took the slightest
thought for fishes since the world began. Your desire is to eat us one
by one." "No; I will not eat you while you trust me," said the crane.
"If you don't take my word that there is such a pond, send one of your
number to go with me and see for himself." Believing the crane, the fish
presented to him a great big fish (blind of one eye, by the way), who
they thought would be a match for the crane whether afloat or ashore;
and they said, "Here's the one to go with you."
The
crane took the fish off and put him in the pool, and after showing him
the whole extent of it, brought him back again and put him in along with
the other fish in his old pond. And he held forth to them on the charms
of the new pool.
After hearing this report, they grew eager to go there, and said to the crane, "Very good, my lord; please take us across."
First
of all, the crane took that big one-eyed fish again and carried him off
to the edge of the pool, so that he could see the water, but actually
alighted in a Varana-tree which grew on the bank. Dashing the fish down
in a fork of the tree, he pecked it to death,--after which he picked him
clean and let the bones fall at the foot of the tree. Then back he went
and said, "I've thrown him in; who's the next?" And so he took the fish
one by one, and ate them all, till at last when he came back, he could
not find another left. But there was still a crab remaining in the pond;
so the crane, who wanted to eat him up too, said, "Mister crab, I've
taken all those fishes away and turned them into a fine large pool
covered all over with lotuses. Come along; I'll take you too." "How will
you carry me across?" said the crab. "Why, in my beak, to be sure,"
said the crane. "Ah, but you might drop me like that," said the crab; "I
won't go with you." "Don't be frightened; I'll keep tight hold of you
all the way." Thought the crab to himself, "He hasn't put the fish in
the pool. But, if he would really put me in, that would be capital. If
he does not,--why, I'll nip his head off and kill him." So he spoke thus
to the crane, "You'd never be able to hold me tight enough, friend
crane; whereas we crabs have got an astonishingly tight grip. If I might
take hold of your neck with my claws, I could hold it tight and then
would go along with you."
Not
suspecting that the crab wanted to trick him, the crane gave his
assent. With his claws the crab gripped hold of the crane's neck as with
the pincers of a smith, and said, "Now you can start." The crane took
him and shewed him the pool first, and then started off for the tree.
"The
pool lies this way, nunky," said the crab; "but you're taking me the
other way." "Very much your nunky dear am I!" said the crane; "and very
much my nephew are you! I suppose you thought me your slave to lift you
up and carry you about! Just you cast your eye on that heap of bones at
the foot of the tree; as I ate up all those fish, so I will eat you
too." Said the crab, "It was through their own folly that those fish
were eaten by you; but I shan't give you the chance of eating me. No;
what I shall do, is to kill you. For you, fool that you were, did not
see that I was tricking you. If we die, we will both die together; I'll
chop your head clean off." And so saying he gripped the crane's neck
with his claws, as with tongs. With his mouth wide open, and tears
streaming from his eyes, the crane, trembling for his life, said, "Lord,
indeed I will not eat you! Spare my life!"
"Well,
then, just step down to the pool and put me in," said the crab. Then
the crane turned back and stepped down as directed to the pool, and
placed the crab on the mud, at the water-edge. But the crab, before
entering the water, nipped off the crane's head as deftly as if he were
cutting a lotus stalk with a knife.
The
Tree-fairy who dwelt in the tree, marking this wonderful thing, made
the whole forest ring with applause repeating this stanza in sweet
tones:--
Guile profits not your very guileful folk.
Mark what the guileful crane got from the crab!
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"Brethren,"
said the Master, "this is not the first time this fellow has been
cheated by the robe-maker from the country; in the past he was cheated
in just the same manner." His lesson ended, he showed the connection,
and identified the Birth, by saying, "The Jetavana robe-maker was [the
crane] of those days, the robe-maker from the country was the crab, and I
myself the Tree-Fairy."
SAMMODAMANA-JATAKA.
SAMMODAMANA-JATAKA.
"While concord reigns." This story was told by the Master while dwelling in the Banyan-grove near Kapilavatthu, about a quarrel over a porter's head-pad.
On this occasion, however, the Master spoke thus to his kinsfolk:--"My lords, conflict among kinsfolk (family members) is inappropriate. Yes, in bygone times, animals, who had defeated their enemies when they lived in harmony, came to utter destruction when they fell out." And at the request of his royal kinsfolk, he told this story of the past.
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Once upon a time when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta was born a quail (a small migratory game bird with mottled brown feathers and a short tail. Native to: Europe, Asia), and lived in the forest at the head of many thousands of quails. In those days a fowler (a shooter or trapper of wild birds) who caught quails came to that place; and he used to imitate the note of a quail till he saw that the birds had been drawn together, when he flung his net over them, and whipped the sides of the net together, so as to get them all huddled up in a heap. Then he jam-packed them into his basket, and going home sold his prey for a living.
Now one day the Bodhisatta said to those quails, "This fowler is making havoc among our kinsfolk. I have a device whereby he will be unable to catch us. Henceforth, the very moment he throws the net over you, let each one put his head through a mesh and then all of you together must fly away with the net to such place as you please, and there let it down on a thorn-brake; this done, we will all escape from our several meshes." "Very good," said they all in ready agreement.
On the morrow, when the net was cast over them, they did just as the Bodhisatta had told them:--they lifted up the net, and let it down on a thorn-brake, escaping themselves from underneath. While the fowler was still disentangling his net, evening came on; and he went away empty-handed. On the morrow and following days the quails played the same trick. So that it became the regular thing for the fowler to be engaged till sunset disentangling his net, and then to betake himself home empty-handed. Accordingly his wife grew angry and said, "Day by day you return empty-handed; I suppose you've got a second establishment to keep up elsewhere."
"No, my dear," said the fowler; "I've no second establishment to keep up. The fact is those quails have come to work together now. The moment my net is over them, off they fly with it and escape, leaving it on a thorn-brake. Still, they won't live in unity always. Don't you bother yourself; as soon as they start bickering among themselves, I shall bag the lot, and that will bring a smile to your face to see." And so saying, he repeated this stanza to his wife:--
While concord reigns, the birds bear off the net.
When quarrels rise, they'll fall a prey to me.
Not long after this, one of the quails, in alighting on their feeding ground, trod by accident on another's head. "Who trod on my head?" angrily cried this latter. "I did; but I didn't mean to. Don't be angry," said the first quail. But notwithstanding this answer, the other remained as angry as before. Continuing to answer one another, they began to bandy taunts, saying, "I suppose it is you single-handed who lift up the net." As they wrangled thus with one another, the Bodhisatta thought to himself, "There's no safety with one who is quarrelsome. The time has come when they will no longer lift up the net, and thereby they will come to great destruction. The fowler will get his opportunity. I can stay here no longer." And thereupon he with his following went elsewhere.
Sure enough the fowler came back again a few days later, and first collecting them together by imitating the note of a quail, flung his net over them. Then said one quail, "They say when you were at work lifting the net, the hair of your head fell off. Now's your time; lift away." The other rejoined, "When you were lifting the net, they say both your wings moulted. Now's your time; lift away."
But whilst they were each inviting the other to lift the net, the fowler himself lifted the net for them and crammed them in a heap into his basket and bore them off home, so that his wife's face was wreathed with smiles.
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"Thus, sire," said the Master, "such a thing as a quarrel among kinsfolk is unseemly; quarrelling leads only to destruction." His lesson ended, he shewed the connexion, and identified the Birth, by saying, "Devadatta was the foolish quail of those days, and I myself the wise and good quail."
DURGA
 |
From Verul - Ellora |
DURGA.
Though
the wife of Siva, she acted as an ordinary woman, and manifested
womanly virtues; as Durga she was a most powerful warrior, and appeared
on earth, under many names, for the destruction of demons who were
obnoxious to gods and men.
She
obtained the name Durga because she slew an asura named Durga, the name
of the goddess being the feminine form of the demon's name. The "
Skanda Purana" gives the following account of this occurrence.
Kartikeya, being asked by Agastya, the sage, why his mother was called
Durga, says: "A giant named Durga, the son of Ruru, having performed
penance in favour of Brahma, obtained his blessing, and grew so mighty
that he conquered the three worlds, and dethroned Indra and the other
gods. He compelled the wives of the Rishis to sing his praise, and sent
the gods from heaven to dwell in the forests, and by a mere nod summoned
them to reverence him. He abolished religious ceremonies; Brahmans
through fear of him gave up the reading of the Vedas; rivers changed
their course; fire lost its energy, and the terrified stars retired from
sight. He assumed the shape of the clouds, and gave rain whenever he
pleased; the earth, through fear, yielded an abundant harvest, and the
trees flowered and gave fruit out of the proper season."
The
gods in their distress appealed to Siva. Indra, their king, said, "He
has dethroned me!" Surya said, "He has taken my kingdom!" Siva, pitying
them, desired Parvati to go and destroy this giant. She, accepting the
commission willingly, calmed the fears of the gods, and first sent
Kalaratri (Dark Night), a female whose beauty bewitched the inhabitants
of the three worlds, to order the demon to restore things to their
ancient order. He, however, full of fury, sent his soldiers to lay hold
of Kalaratri; but by the breath of her mouth she reduced them to ashes.
Durga then sent 30,000 other giants, who were such monsters in size that
they covered the surface of the earth. At the sight of these giants,
Kalaratri fled to Parvati, followed by the giants. Durga, with
100,000,000 chariots, 120,000,000,000 elephants, 10,000,000 swift-footed
horses, and innumerable soldiers, went to fight Parvati, on the Vindhya
mountain. As soon as he drew near, Parvati assumed 1000 arms, called to
her assistance different beings, and produced a number of weapons from
her body (a long list of these is given in the Purana). The troops of
the giant poured their arrows on Parvati as she sat on the mountain
Vindhya, thick as the drops of rain in a storm; they even tore up trees,
mountains, etc., and hurled them at her; in return she threw a weapon
which carried away the arms of many of the giants. Durga himself then
hurled a flaming dart at the goddess, which she turned aside; another
being sent, she stopped it by a hundred arrows. He next aimed an arrow
at Parvati's breast; this too she repelled, and two other weapons, a
club and a pike. At last coming to close quarters, Parvati seized Durga
and set her left foot on his breast, but he, managing to disengage
himself, renewed the fight.
Parvati
then caused a number of helpers to issue from her body, which destroyed
the soldiers of the giants. In return, Durga sent a dreadful shower of
hail, the effect of which Parvati counteracted by an instrument called
Sosuna. The demon now assumed the shape of an elephant as large as a
mountain, and approached the goddess; but she tied his legs, and, with
her nails, which were like scimitars, tore him to pieces. He rose again
in the form of a buffalo, and with his horns cast stones, trees, and
mountains, tearing up the trees by the breath of his nostrils. Parvati
then pierced him with her trident; he reeled to and fro, and, renouncing
the form of a buffalo, assumed his original body as a giant, with a
thousand arms, having a weapon in each. Approaching Parvati, she seized
him by his arms, and carried him into the air, whence she threw him to
the ground with fearful force. Seeing that the fall had not destroyed
him, she pierced him in the breast with an arrow, whereupon blood issued
from his mouth in streams, and he died. The gods were delighted at the
result, and soon regained their former splendour.
THE PRINCESS AND THE DEMON
Following is story recorded by the people who read them at the pyramids.
Following is story recorded by the people who read them at the pyramids.
IT was in the reign of King Rameses, son of the Sun, beloved of Amon, king of the gods. A mighty warrior was Rameses; in the day of battle like to Mentu, god of war; he was very valorous, like the son of the Sky-goddess.
Now his Majesty was in Naharaina, where the great river Euphrates rolls down to the sea. And he received the tribute of the vassal-princes, for he was the conqueror of the nine Archer-tribes, and none could stand before his face when he came forth equipped with all his weapons of war. The princes prostrated themselves before him, bowing their foreheads to the ground, breathing the earth which his feet had trodden. Great and splendid was their tribute: gold, and precious stones of all colours, blue lapis lazuli and the green turquoise sacred to Hathor, goddess of love and joy. And slaves came bearing on their backs sweet-scented woods, perfumed and aromatic, like the trees in the land of the Gods.
The prince of Bekhten came also, and with him his eldest daughter; and he placed her in front of the slaves, for she was the choicest part of his tribute. Very beautiful was she, fair in her limbs, tall and slender as a palm-tree, and the heart of the King turned to her with delight, and he loved her more than anything on earth. He made her the Great Royal Wife, and he gave her a name by which she should be known in the land of Egypt; Neferu-Ra, "Beauty of Ra," was she called, for her beauty was like the shining of the sun. And the name was written in the royal oval, as is the custom of the kings of Egypt and their queens.
Then King Rameses returned to Egypt, and with him went the Great Royal Wife, Queen Neferu-Ra. And when they came to the Black Land, the land of Egypt, she performed all the ceremonies of a queen in the temples of Egypt.
Now it happened that King Rameses was in Thebes the Mighty on the twenty-second of the month Payni. And he went into the temple of Amon, for this was the day of the beautiful festival of the god, when the boats go up and down upon the water with torches and lights, and the Sacred Barque, adorned with gold and painted with glorious colours, is borne aloft, that men may see the figure of Amon-Ra himself within. And Queen Neferu-Ra was with his Majesty, for the Great Royal Wife in Egypt has ever been the worshipper of Amon-Ra, king of the gods.
There came into the temple courtiers of the King to announce the arrival of a messenger from the prince of Bekhten. Loaded was he with gifts for Neferu-Ra, Queen of Egypt, daughter of the prince of Bekhten, and he carried also a message to the King. When he entered the royal presence, he bowed to the earth saying, "Glory to thee, O Sun of the nine Archer-tribes! May we live before thee!" Then he bowed to the earth again and spoke the message that he had brought from the prince of Bekhten to Rameses, King of Egypt:
"I come to thee, O living King, my Lord, on account of Bent-reshy, the little sister of the Great Royal Wife, Neferu-Ra; for there is a malady in all her limbs. Send therefore a learned man that he may see and heal her."
The King turned to his courtiers and said, "Bring hither a scribe of the House of Life, and bring also those who speak the hidden things of the Inner Chamber." And the courtiers hastened and brought them into the presence forthwith, and the King said to them, "I have brought you hither to hear this matter. Tell me then of a man, learned and skilful, to send to the prince of Bekhten."
Then they took counsel among themselves as to a learned and skilful man, and they brought the scribe Tehuti-em-heb before the King, and the King bade him go with the messenger of the prince of Bekhten to heal Bent-reshy, the little sister of the Great Royal Wife.
When the scribe Tehuti-em-heb came to Bekhten, he was brought into the presence of Bent-reshy. He was a learned and a skilful man, and he found the princess under the dominion of a spirit, a spirit that was hostile to him, against whom his learning and skill were of no avail, who set his magic arts at naught.
Then the prince of Bekhten was sad, and sorrow was in his heart, but Tehuti-em-heb the scribe counselled him to send again to Egypt and to implore the help of Khonsu, the Expeller of Demons, to cast out the evil spirit from Bent-reshy, the little sister of the Great Royal Wife.
Now so great was the distance from Bekhten to Egypt that from the time that Tehuti-em-heb the scribe departed out of Thebes till the second message came to King Rameses was three years, and throughout that time the evil spirit dwelt in Bent-reshy and would not be cast out.
And when the second messenger arrived, King Rameses was again in Thebes, and it was the first of the month Pakhons, the month that is sacred to Khonsu. He entered into the temple, and with him came his courtiers, and the messenger of the prince of Bekhten. In the temple were two statues of Khonsu; very marvellous figures were these, very sacred, very holy; the one was called Khonsu in Thebes Neferhotep, and the other Khonsu, the Expeller of Demons. Now Khonsu is the God of the Moon, the son of Amon-Ra and of Mut, Lady of Ashru, and men represent him with the curled lock of youth, for he is ever young and beautiful.
Then the King stood before the great statue of Khonsu in Thebes Neferhotep and said, "O my good Lord, I come again into thy presence on account of the daughter of the prince of Bekhten."
Then the priests lifted the statue of Khonsu in Thebes Neferhotep and placed it in front of Khonsu, the Expeller of Demons. And the King spoke again before Khonsu in Thebes Neferhotep and said, "My good Lord, turn thy face to Khonsu, the Expeller of Demons. Grant that he may go to Bekhten."
Khonsu in Thebes Neferhotep inclined his head twice in token of assent. Very marvellous was the figure of Khonsu in Thebes Neferhotep.
And yet again King Rameses spoke, "Let thy protection be with him. Grant that I may send the Majesty of Khonsu to Bekhten to save Bent-reshy, the little sister of the Great Royal Wife."
Khonsu in Thebes Neferhotep inclined his head twice in token of assent. Very marvellous was the figure of Khonsu in Thebes Neferhotep. And he gave his magical protection four times to Khonsu, the Expeller of Demons.
Then King Rameses gave command, and Khonsu, the Expeller of Demons, was placed in the Great Boat; and around the Great Boat were five small boats, with chariots and horses, numerous and splendid, on the right hand and on the left. The retinue of Khonsu, the Expeller of Demons, was the retinue of a king. For a year and five months they journeyed until they reached Bekhten.
The prince of Bekhten came out with his bowmen and his courtiers to meet Khonsu, the Expeller of Demons, with a royal welcome, and they entered into his presence as into the presence of a king. The prince of Bekhten fell on his knees and laid his forehead on the ground at the feet of Khonsu, the Expeller of Demons, and said, "Thou hast come to us. O, be kind to us according to the words of Rameses, King of Egypt."
They brought Khonsu, the Expeller of Demons, to the chamber of Bent-reshy, the little sister of the Great Royal Wife; and he made a magical protection over her. Lo, there happened a wonder and a marvel, for she was well and whole in a moment.
Then the spirit, who had been in her, spoke in the presence of Khonsu, the Expeller of Demons, "Thou hast come in peace, O great God, Expeller of Demons. Bekhten is thy city, its people are thy slaves. I bow before thee, for I also am thy slave. I will go to that place from which I came that thy heart may have peace. But ere I go, let the Majesty of Khonsu give command that a holy day be made for me by the prince of Bekhten."
When he had heard these words, Khonsu, the Expeller of Demons, inclined his head to the priest and said, "Let the prince of Bekhten make a great sacrifice for this spirit."
The prince of Bekhten, and his soldiers and his courtiers heard the voices of the spirit and of the god, and they trembled and were exceedingly afraid. They obeyed the command of the god and prepared a great sacrifice for Khonsu, the Expeller of Demons, and for the spirit that came out of Bent-reshy, the little sister of the Great Royal Wife, the daughter of the prince of Bekhten. And they made a holy day with offerings, sacrifices, and libations.
So the spirit, in the form of a Shining One, went his way in peace out of the land of Bekhten, and he went whithersoever it pleased him, as Khonsu, the Expeller of Demons, had commanded.
The prince of Bekhten was glad and his heart rejoiced, and all the people rejoiced also that the spirit had been driven out of Bent-reshy and out of the land of Bekhten. But in the midst of his joy and gladness, fear came upon the heart of the prince of Bekhten lest the spirit should return and take up his abode again in the land, when Khonsu, the Expeller of Demons, had departed. He took counsel with himself and said, "I will keep Khonsu, the Expeller of Demons, in Bekhten. I will not let him return to Egypt." So Khonsu, the Expeller of Demons, remained three years, four months, and five days in Bekhten, for the prince of Bekhten would not let him go.
And at the end of that time the prince of Bekhten lay upon his bed at night and slept, and while he slept a vision passed before his eyes. He dreamed that he stood before the shrine of Khonsu, the Expeller of Demons; the great doors of the shrine were folded back and the god came forth, stepping out between the doors. He changed into the form of a hawk with feathers of gold, burnished and beautiful, and soared high into the air with wings outspread, and like an arrow he darted towards Egypt.
When the prince of Bekhten awoke, he was exceedingly afraid, for he feared the wrath of the Gods. And he sent for the priest of Khonsu, the Expeller of Demons, and said to him, "The god is estranged from us, he has returned to Egypt. Let his chariot also return to Egypt." The prince of Bekhten gave command that the god should be taken back to Egypt, and he loaded the god with gifts. Great and numerous were the gifts of all manner of beautiful things that the prince of Bekhten gave to Khonsu, the Expeller of Demons.
For many months they journeyed, and with them went an escort of soldiers and horses from the land of Bekhten. They arrived in safety at Thebes, and entered into the temple of Khonsu in Thebes Neferhotep.
Then Khonsu, the Expeller of Demons, gave to Khonsu in Thebes Neferhotep all the gifts, the rich and costly gifts, which he had received from the prince of Bekhten; nothing did he keep for himself. Thus ended the journey of Khonsu, the Expeller of Demons, the great God.
Interesting Time Calculations in the Ancient India....
The shortest period of time is a Matra, which is equal to the twinkling of the human eye. Fifteen Matras = one Kashtha;
thirty Kashthas = one Kala;
fifteen Kalas = one Nadika.
A Nadika is ascertained by a measure of water, with a vessel made of twelve Palas and a half of copper, in the bottom of which there is to be a hole made with a tube of gold, of the weight of four Mashas, and four inches long. According to the Magadha measure, the vessel should hold a Prastha (or sixteen Palas) of water.
Two of these Nadis = one Muhurtta;
thirty Muhurtta = one day and night.
Thirty such periods = one month;
twelve months = one year, or a day and night of the gods;
three hundred and sixty such days = one year of the celestials.
An aggregate of four ages contains twelve thousand divine years; and a thousand periods of four ages complete a day of Brahma.
That period is also termed a Kalpa, during which fourteen Manus preside; and at the end of it occurs the incidental or Brahma dissolution.
Another presentation ....
2 Paramanus = 1 Anu
3 Anus = 1 Trasarenu
3 Trasarenus = 1 Truti
100 Trutis = 1 Vedha
3 Vedhas = 1 Lava
3 Lavas = 1 Nimesha
3 Nimeshas = 1 Kshana
5 Kshanas = 1 Kashtha
15 Kashthas = 1 Laghu
15 Laghus = 1 Narika
2 Narikas = 1 Muhurtta
6 or 7 Narikas = 1 Yama, or watch of the day or night.
6 respirations (Prana) = 1 Vikala;
60 Vikalas = 1 Danda;
60 Dandas = 1 sydereal day.
60 Tilas = 1 Vipala;
60 Vipalas = 1 Pala;
60 Palas = 1 Danda or Ghari
the year of the seven Rishis = 3030 mortal years,
the year of Dhruva = 9090 such years.
Krita Yuga = 4000 + Sandhya 400 + Sandhyansa 400 = 4800
Treta Yuga = 3000 + Sandhya 300 + Sandhyansa 300 = 3600
Dwapara Yuga = 2000 + Sandhya 200 + Sandhyansa 200 = 2400
Kali Yuga = 1000 + Sandhya 100 + Sandhyansa 100 = 1200
Total = 12000.
one hundred years of Brahma, are 311.040.000.000.000 years of mortals.
Sinskrit Counting
Das'a, 10;
S'atam, 100;
Sahasram, 1000;
Ayutam, 10.000;
Niyutam, 100.000;
Prayutam, 1.000.000;
Arvudam, 10.000.000;
Nyurvudam, 100.000.000;
Vrindam, 1.000.000.000;
Param, 10.000.000.000;
Kharvam, 100.000.000.000;
Nikharvam, 1000.000.000.000;
S'ankham, 10.000.000.000.000;
Padmam, 100.000.000.000.000;
Samudram, 1.000.000.000.000.000;
Madhyamam, 10.000.000.000.000.000;
Pararddham,100.000.000.000.000.000.
VELUKA-JATAKA.
This story was told by the Gutama Buddha while at Jetavana, about a certain stubborn Bhikhu. For the Blessed One asked him whether the report was true that he was stubborn, and the Bhikhu admitted that it was. "Bhikhu," said the Gutama Buddha, "this is not the first time you have been stubborn: you were just as stubborn in former days. Also, and, as the result of your stubborn refusal to follow the advice of the wise and good, you met your end by the bite of a snake." And so saying, he told this story of the past.
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Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born into a wealthy family in the Kingdom of Kasi. Having come to years of discretion, he saw how from passion springs pain and how true bliss comes by the abandonment of passion. So he put lusts from him, and going forth to the Himalayas became a hermit, winning by fulfillment of the ordained mystic meditations the five orders of the Higher Knowledge and the eight Attainments. And as he lived his life in the rapture of Insight, he came in after times to have a large following of five hundred hermits, whose teacher he was.
Now one day a young poisonous viper, wandering about as vipers do, came to the hut of one of the hermits; and that Bhikhu grew as fond of the creature as if it were his own child, housing it in a joint of bamboo and showing kindness to it. And because it was lodged in a joint of bamboo, the viper was known by the name of "Bamboo." Moreover, because the hermit was as fond of the viper as if, it were his own child, they called him "Bamboo's Father."
Hearing that one of the Brethren was keeping a viper; the Bodhisatta sent for that Bhikhu and asked whether the report was true. When told that it was true, the Bodhisatta said, "A viper can never be trusted; keep it no longer."
"But," urged the Bhikhu, "my viper is dear to me as a pupil to a teacher; I could not live without him." "Well then," answered the Bodhisatta, "know that this very snake will lose you your life." But heedless of the Bodhisatta's warning, that Bhikhu still kept the pet he could not bear to part with. Only a very few days later all the Brethren went out to gather fruits, and coming to a spot where all kinds grew in plenty, they stayed there two or three days. With them went "Bamboo's Father," leaving his viper behind in its bamboo prison. Two or three days afterwards, when he came back, he bethought him of feeding the creature, and, opening the cane, stretched out his hand, saying, "Come, my son; you must be hungry." But angry with its long fast, the viper bit his outstretched hand, killing him on the spot, and made its escape into the forest.
Seeing him lying there dead, the Brethren came and told the Bodhisatta, who bade the body is burned. Then, seated in their midst, he exhorted the Brethren by repeating this stanza:--
The stubborn man, who, when exhorted, pays
No heed to friends who kindly counsel give,--
Like 'Bamboo's father,' shall be brought to nought.
Thus did the Bodhisatta exhort his followers; and he developed within himself the four Noble States, and at his death was re-born into the Brahma Realm.
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Said the Gutama Buddha, "Bhikhu, this is not the first time you have shown yourself stubborn; you were no less stubborn in times gone by, and thereby met your death from a viper's bite." Having ended his lesson, the Gutama Buddha showed the connection and identified the Birth by saying, "In those days, this stubborn Bhikhu was 'Bamboo's Father,' my disciples were the band of disciples, and I myself their teacher."
LOSAKA-JATAKA.
This story was told by the Master (Gautam Buddha) while at Jetavana about the Elder Losaka Tissa.
'Who,' you ask, 'was this Elder Losaka Tissa?' Well; his father was a fisherman in Kosala, and he was the bane of his family; and, when a Brother, never had anything given to him. His previous existence ended, he had been conceived by a certain fisherman's wife in a fishing-village of a thousand families in Kosala. And on the day he was conceived all those thousand families, net in hand, went fishing in river and pool but failed to catch one single fish; and the like bad fortune dogged them from that day forward. Also, before his birth, the village was destroyed seven times by fire, and visited seven times by the king's vengeance. So in time it came to pass that the people fell into a wretched plight. Reflecting that such had not been their lot in former clays, but that now they were going to rack and ruin, they concluded that there must be some breeder of misfortune among them, and resolved to divide into two bands. This they did; and there were then two bands of five hundred families each. Thence-forward, ruin dogged the band which included the parents of the future Losaka, whilst the other five hundred families throve apace. So the former resolved to go on halving their numbers, and did so, until this one family was parted from all the rest. Then they knew that the breeder of misfortune was in that family, and with blows drove them away. With difficulty could his mother get a livelihood; but, when her time was come, she gave birth to her son in a certain place. (He that is born into his last existence cannot be killed. For like a lamp within a jar, even so securely within his breast burns the flame of his destiny to become an Arahat.) The mother took care of the child till he could run about, and when he could run about then she put a potsherd in his hands, and, bidding him go into a house to beg, ran away. Thenceforward, the solitary child used to beg his food thereabouts and sleep where he could. He was unwashed and unkempt, and made a living after the fashion of a mud-eating goblin. When he was seven years old, he was picking. up and eating, like a crow, lump by lump, any rice he could find outside a house door where they flung away the rinsings of the rice-pots.
Sariputta, Captain of the Faith, going into Savatthi on his round for alms, noticed the child, and, wondering what village the hapless creature came from, was filled with love for him and called out "Come here." The child came, bowed to the Elder, and stood before him. Then said Sariputta, "What village do you belong to, and where are your parents?"
"I am destitute, sir," said the child; "for my parents said they were tired out, and so forsook me, and went away."
"Would you like to become a Brother?" "Indeed I should, sir; but who would receive a poor wretch like me into the Order?" "I will." "Then, pray let me become a Brother."
The Elder gave the child a meal and took him to the monastery, washed, him with his own hands, and admitted him a Novice first and a full Brother afterwards, when he was old enough. In his old age he was known as Elder Losaka Tissa; he was always unlucky, and but little was given to him. The story goes that, no matter how lavish the charity, he never got enough to eat, but only just enough to keep himself alive. A single ladle of rice seemed to fill his alms-bowl to the brim, so that the charitable thought his bowl was full and bestowed the rest of their rice on the next. When rice was being put into his bowl, it is said that the rice in the giver's dish used to vanish away. And so with every kind of food. Even when, as time went by, he had developed Discernment and so won the highest Fruit which is Arahatship, he still got but little.
In the fullness of time, when the materials which determined his separate existence were outworn, the day came for him to pass away. And the Captain of the Faith, as he meditated, had knowledge of this, and thought to himself, 'Losaka Tissa will pass away to-day; and to-day at any rate I will see that he has enough to eat.' So he took the Elder and came to Savatthi for alms. But, because Losaka was with him, it was all in vain that Sariputta held out his hand for alms in populous Savatthi; not so much as a bow was vouchsafed him. So he bade the Elder go back and seat himself in the sitting-hall of the Monastery, and collected food which he sent with a message that it was to be given to Losaka. Those to whom he gave it took the food and went their way, but, forgetting all about Losaka, ate it themselves. So when Sariputta rose up, and was entering the monastery, Losaka came to him and saluted him. Sariputta stopped, and turning round said, "Well, did you get the food, brother?"
"I shall, no doubt, get it in good time," said the Elder. Sariputta was greatly troubled, and looked to see what hour it was. But noon was passed. "Stay here, Brother," said Sariputta; "and do not move"; and he made Losaka Tissa sit down in the sitting-hall, and set out for the palace of the king of Kosala. The king bade his bowl be taken, and saying that it was past noon and therefore not the time to eat rice, ordered his bowl to be filled with the four sweet kinds of food. With this he returned, and stood before him, bowl in hand, bidding the sage eat. But the Elder was ashamed, because of the reverence he had towards Sariputta, and would not eat. "Come, brother Tissa," said Sariputta, "'tis I must stand with the bowl; sit you down and eat. If the bowl left my hand, everything in it would vanish away."
So the venerable Elder Losaka Tissa ate the sweets, whilst the exalted Captain of the Faith stood holding the bowl; and thanks to the latter's merits and efficacy the food did not vanish. So the Elder Losaka Tissa ate as much as he wanted and was satisfied, and that selfsame day passed away by that death whereby existence ceases for ever.
The All-Enlightened Buddha stood by, and saw the body burned; and they built a shrine for the collected ashes.
Seated in conclave in the Hall of Truth, the Brethren said, "Brethren, Losaka was unlucky, and little was given to him. How came he with his unluck and his neediness to win the glory of Arahatship?"
Entering the Hall, the Master asked what they were talking about; and they told him. "Brethren," said he, "this Brother's own actions were the cause both of his receiving so little, and of his becoming an Arahat. In bygone days he had prevented others from receiving, and that is why he received so little himself. But it was by his meditating on sorrow, transitoriness, and the absence of an abiding principle in things, that he won Arahatship for himself." And so saying, he told this story of the past.
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Once upon a time, in the days of the Buddha Kassapa, there was a Brother who lived the village life and was maintained by a country squire (a title of respect given to a magistrate or local dignity, especially in a rural district). He was regular in his conduct as a Brother, virtuous in his life, and was filled to overflowing with insight. There was also an Elder, an Arahat, who lived with his fellows on terms of equality, and at the time of the story paid a first visit to the village where lived the squire who supported this Brother. So pleased was the squire with the very demeanour of the Elder that, taking his bowl, he led him into the house and with every mark of respect invited him to eat. Then he listened to a short discourse by the Elder, and at its close said, with a bow, "Sir, pray do not journey further than our monastery close by; in the evening I will come and call upon you there." So the Elder went to the monastery, saluting the resident Brother on his entrance; and, first courteously asking leave, took a seat by his side. The Brother received him with all friendliness, and asked whether any food had been given him as alms.
"Oh yes," replied the Elder. "Where, pray?" "Why, in your village close by, at the squire's house." And so saying, the Elder asked to be shewn his cell and made it ready. Then laying aside his bowl and robe, and seating himself, he became absorbed in blissful Insight and enjoyed the bliss of the Fruits of the Paths.
In the evening came the squire, with servants carrying flowers and perfumes and lamps and oil. Saluting the resident Brother, he asked whether a guest had appeared, an Elder. Being told that he had, the squire asked where he was and learned which cell had been given him. Then the squire went to the Elder and, first bowing courteously, seated himself by the Elder's side and listened to a discourse. In the cool of the evening the squire made his offerings at the Tope and Bo-Tree, lit his lamp, and departed with an invitation to both Elder and Brother to come up to his house next day for their meal.
"I'm losing my hold on the squire," thought the Brother. "If this Elder stops, I shall count for nothing with him." So he was discontented and fell a-scheming how to make the Elder see that he must not settle down there for good. Accordingly, when the Elder came to pay his respects in the early morning, the Brother did not open his lips. The Arahat read the other's thoughts and said to himself, "This Brother knows not that I shall never stand in his light either with the family that supports him or with his Brotherhood." And going back to his cell, he became absorbed in the bliss of Insight, and in the bliss of the Fruits.
Next day, the resident Brother, having first knocked gingerly on the gong, and having tapped on the gong with the back of his nail, went off alone to the squire's house. Taking from him his alms-bowl, the squire bade him be seated and asked where the stranger was.
"I know no news of your friend," said the Brother. "Though I knocked on the gong and tapped at his door, I couldn't wake him. I can only presume that his dainty fare here yesterday has disagreed with him and that he is still a-bed in consequence. Possibly such doings may commend themselves to you."
(Meantime the Arahat, who had waited till the time came to go his round for alms, had washed and dressed and risen with bowl and robe in the air and gone elsewhere.)
The squire gave the Brother rice and milk to eat, with ghee and sugar and honey in it. Then he had his bowl scoured with perfumed chunam powder and filled afresh, saying, "Sir, the Elder must be fatigued with his journey; take him this." Without demur the Brother took the food and went his way, thinking to himself, "If our friend once gets a taste of this, taking him by the throat and kicking him out of doors won't get rid of him. But how can I get rid of it? If I give it away to a human being, it will be known. If I throw it into the water, the ghee will float on top. And as for throwing it away on the ground, that will only bring all the crows of the district flocking to the spot." In his perplexity his eye fell on a field that had been fired, and, scraping out the embers, he flung the contents of his bowl into the hole, filled in the embers on the top, and went off home. Not finding the Elder there, he thought that the Arahat had understood his jealousy and departed. "Woe is me," he cried, "for my greed has made me to sin."
And thenceforth sore affliction befell him and he became like a living ghost. Dying soon after, he was re-born in hell and there was tormented for hundreds of thousands of years. By reason of his ripening sin, in five hundred successive births he was an ogre and never had enough to eat, except one day when he enjoyed a surfeit of offal. Next, for five hundred more existences he was a dog, and here too, only on one single day had his fill--of a vomit of rice; on no other occasion did he have enough to eat. Even when he ceased to be a dog, he was only born into a beggar family in a Kasi village. From the hour of his birth, that family became still more beggared, and he never got half as much water-gruel as he wanted. And he was called Mitta-vindaka.
Unable at last to endure the pangs of hunger that now beset them, his father and mother beat him and drove him away, crying, "Begone, you curse!"
In the course of his wanderings, the little outcast came to Benares, where in those days the Bodhisatta was a teacher of world-wide fame with five hundred young Brahmins to teach. In those times the Benares folk used to give day by day commons of food to poor lads and had them taught free, and so this Mitta-vindaka also became a charity scholar under the Bodhisatta. But he was fierce and intractable, always fighting with his fellows and heedless of his master's reproofs; and so the Bodhisatta's fees fell off. And as he quarrelled so, and would not brook reproof, the youth ended by running away, and came to a border-village where he hired himself out for a living, and married a miserably poor woman by whom he had two children. Later, the villagers paid him to teach them what was true doctrine and what was false, and gave him a hut to live in at the entrance to their village. But, all because of Mitta-vindaka's coming to live among them, the king's vengeance fell seven times on those villagers, and seven times were their homes burned to the ground; seven times too did their water-tank dry up.
Then they considered the matter and agreed that it was not so with them before Mitta-vindaka's coming, but that ever since he came they had been going from bad to worse. So with blows they drove him from their village; and forth he went with his family, and came to a haunted forest. And there the demons killed and ate his wife and children. Fleeing thence, he came after many wanderings to a village on the coast called Gambhira, arriving on a day when a ship was putting to sea; and he hired himself for service aboard. For a week the ship held on her way, but on the seventh day she came to a complete standstill in mid-ocean, as though she had run upon a rock. Then they cast lots, in order to rid them of their bane; and seven times the lot fell on Mitta-vindaka. So they gave him a raft of bamboos, and laying hold of him, cast him over-board. And forthwith the ship made way again.
Mitta-vindaka clambered on to his bamboos and floated on the waves. Thanks to his having obeyed the commandments in the times of the Buddha Kassapa, he found in mid-ocean four daughters of the gods dwelling in a palace of crystal, with whom he dwelt happily for seven days. Now palace-ghosts enjoy happiness only for seven days at a time; and so, when the seventh day came and they had to depart to their punishment, they left him with an injunction to await their return. But no sooner were they departed, than Mitta-vindaka put off on his raft again and came to where eight daughters of the gods dwelt in a palace of silver. Leaving them in turn, he came to where sixteen daughters of the gods dwelt in a palace of jewels, and thereafter to where thirty-two dwelt in a palace of gold. Paying no regard to their words, again he sailed away and came to a city of ogres, set among islands. And there an ogress was ranging about in the shape of a goat. Not knowing that she was an ogress, Mitta-vindaka thought to make a meal off the goat, and seized hold of the creature by the leg. Straightway, by virtue of her demon-nature, she hurled him up and away over the ocean, and plump he fell in a thorn-brake on the slopes of the dry moat of Benares, and thence rolled to earth.
Now it chanced that at that time thieves used to frequent that moat and kill the King's goats; and the goatherds had bidden themselves hard by to catch the rascals.
Mitta-vindaka picked himself up and saw the goats. Thought he to himself, "Well, it was a goat in an island in the ocean that, being seized by the leg, hurled me here over seas. Perhaps, if I do the same by one of these goats, I may get hurled back again to where the daughters of the gods dwell in their ocean palaces." So, without thinking, he seized one of the goats by the leg. At once the goat began to bleat, and the goatherds came running up from every side. They laid hold of him at once, crying, "This is the thief that has so long lived on the King's goats." And they, beat him and began to haul him away in bonds to the King.
Just at that time the Bodhisatta, with his five hundred young Brahmins round him, was coming out of the city to bathe. Seeing and recognising Mitta-vindaka, he said to the goatherds, "Why, this is a pupil of mine, my good men; what have you seized him for?" "Master," said they, "we caught this thief in the act of seizing a goat by the lag, and that's why we've got hold of him." "Well," said the Bodhisatta, "suppose you hand him over to us to live with us as our slave." "All right, sir," replied the men, and letting their prisoner go, they went their way. Then the Bodhisatta asked Mitta-vindaka where he had been all that long time; and Mitta-vindaka told him all that he had done.
"'Tis through not hearkening to those who wished him well," said the Bodhisatta, "that he has suffered all these misfortunes." And he recited this stanza:--
The headstrong man who, when exhorted, pays
No heed to friends who kindly counsel give,
Shall come to certain harm,--like Mittaka,
When by the leg he seized the grazing goat.
And in those times both that Teacher and Mitta-vindaka passed away, and their after-lot was according to their deeds.
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Said the Master, "This Losaka was himself the cause both of his getting little and of his getting Arahatship." His lesson ended, he showed the connection and identified the Birth by saying, "The Elder Losaka Tissa was the Mitta-vindaka of those days, and I the Teacher of world-wide fame."
SEEING ONE’S OWN IMPURE ACTION THE EVIL DOER GRIEVES AND IS VEXED HERE AND HEREAFTER.
Idha socati pecca socati, papakari ubhayattha socati,
so socati so vihannati,disva kammakiliffham attano.
Here one grieves, one grieves hereafter,in bothwise does the evil-doer grieve;
one grieves and is afflicted, one’s own base kammas seeing.
This story was told by the Master (Gautam Buddha) while at Jetavana about the Elder Losaka Tissa.
'Who,' you ask, 'was this Elder Losaka Tissa?' Well; his father was a fisherman in Kosala, and he was the bane of his family; and, when a Brother, never had anything given to him. His previous existence ended, he had been conceived by a certain fisherman's wife in a fishing-village of a thousand families in Kosala. And on the day he was conceived all those thousand families, net in hand, went fishing in river and pool but failed to catch one single fish; and the like bad fortune dogged them from that day forward. Also, before his birth, the village was destroyed seven times by fire, and visited seven times by the king's vengeance. So in time it came to pass that the people fell into a wretched plight. Reflecting that such had not been their lot in former clays, but that now they were going to rack and ruin, they concluded that there must be some breeder of misfortune among them, and resolved to divide into two bands. This they did; and there were then two bands of five hundred families each. Thence-forward, ruin dogged the band which included the parents of the future Losaka, whilst the other five hundred families throve apace. So the former resolved to go on halving their numbers, and did so, until this one family was parted from all the rest. Then they knew that the breeder of misfortune was in that family, and with blows drove them away. With difficulty could his mother get a livelihood; but, when her time was come, she gave birth to her son in a certain place. (He that is born into his last existence cannot be killed. For like a lamp within a jar, even so securely within his breast burns the flame of his destiny to become an Arahat.) The mother took care of the child till he could run about, and when he could run about then she put a potsherd in his hands, and, bidding him go into a house to beg, ran away. Thenceforward, the solitary child used to beg his food thereabouts and sleep where he could. He was unwashed and unkempt, and made a living after the fashion of a mud-eating goblin. When he was seven years old, he was picking. up and eating, like a crow, lump by lump, any rice he could find outside a house door where they flung away the rinsings of the rice-pots.
Sariputta, Captain of the Faith, going into Savatthi on his round for alms, noticed the child, and, wondering what village the hapless creature came from, was filled with love for him and called out "Come here." The child came, bowed to the Elder, and stood before him. Then said Sariputta, "What village do you belong to, and where are your parents?"
"I am destitute, sir," said the child; "for my parents said they were tired out, and so forsook me, and went away."
"Would you like to become a Brother?" "Indeed I should, sir; but who would receive a poor wretch like me into the Order?" "I will." "Then, pray let me become a Brother."
The Elder gave the child a meal and took him to the monastery, washed, him with his own hands, and admitted him a Novice first and a full Brother afterwards, when he was old enough. In his old age he was known as Elder Losaka Tissa; he was always unlucky, and but little was given to him. The story goes that, no matter how lavish the charity, he never got enough to eat, but only just enough to keep himself alive. A single ladle of rice seemed to fill his alms-bowl to the brim, so that the charitable thought his bowl was full and bestowed the rest of their rice on the next. When rice was being put into his bowl, it is said that the rice in the giver's dish used to vanish away. And so with every kind of food. Even when, as time went by, he had developed Discernment and so won the highest Fruit which is Arahatship, he still got but little.
In the fullness of time, when the materials which determined his separate existence were outworn, the day came for him to pass away. And the Captain of the Faith, as he meditated, had knowledge of this, and thought to himself, 'Losaka Tissa will pass away to-day; and to-day at any rate I will see that he has enough to eat.' So he took the Elder and came to Savatthi for alms. But, because Losaka was with him, it was all in vain that Sariputta held out his hand for alms in populous Savatthi; not so much as a bow was vouchsafed him. So he bade the Elder go back and seat himself in the sitting-hall of the Monastery, and collected food which he sent with a message that it was to be given to Losaka. Those to whom he gave it took the food and went their way, but, forgetting all about Losaka, ate it themselves. So when Sariputta rose up, and was entering the monastery, Losaka came to him and saluted him. Sariputta stopped, and turning round said, "Well, did you get the food, brother?"
"I shall, no doubt, get it in good time," said the Elder. Sariputta was greatly troubled, and looked to see what hour it was. But noon was passed. "Stay here, Brother," said Sariputta; "and do not move"; and he made Losaka Tissa sit down in the sitting-hall, and set out for the palace of the king of Kosala. The king bade his bowl be taken, and saying that it was past noon and therefore not the time to eat rice, ordered his bowl to be filled with the four sweet kinds of food. With this he returned, and stood before him, bowl in hand, bidding the sage eat. But the Elder was ashamed, because of the reverence he had towards Sariputta, and would not eat. "Come, brother Tissa," said Sariputta, "'tis I must stand with the bowl; sit you down and eat. If the bowl left my hand, everything in it would vanish away."
So the venerable Elder Losaka Tissa ate the sweets, whilst the exalted Captain of the Faith stood holding the bowl; and thanks to the latter's merits and efficacy the food did not vanish. So the Elder Losaka Tissa ate as much as he wanted and was satisfied, and that selfsame day passed away by that death whereby existence ceases for ever.
The All-Enlightened Buddha stood by, and saw the body burned; and they built a shrine for the collected ashes.
Seated in conclave in the Hall of Truth, the Brethren said, "Brethren, Losaka was unlucky, and little was given to him. How came he with his unluck and his neediness to win the glory of Arahatship?"
Entering the Hall, the Master asked what they were talking about; and they told him. "Brethren," said he, "this Brother's own actions were the cause both of his receiving so little, and of his becoming an Arahat. In bygone days he had prevented others from receiving, and that is why he received so little himself. But it was by his meditating on sorrow, transitoriness, and the absence of an abiding principle in things, that he won Arahatship for himself." And so saying, he told this story of the past.
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Once upon a time, in the days of the Buddha Kassapa, there was a Brother who lived the village life and was maintained by a country squire (a title of respect given to a magistrate or local dignity, especially in a rural district). He was regular in his conduct as a Brother, virtuous in his life, and was filled to overflowing with insight. There was also an Elder, an Arahat, who lived with his fellows on terms of equality, and at the time of the story paid a first visit to the village where lived the squire who supported this Brother. So pleased was the squire with the very demeanour of the Elder that, taking his bowl, he led him into the house and with every mark of respect invited him to eat. Then he listened to a short discourse by the Elder, and at its close said, with a bow, "Sir, pray do not journey further than our monastery close by; in the evening I will come and call upon you there." So the Elder went to the monastery, saluting the resident Brother on his entrance; and, first courteously asking leave, took a seat by his side. The Brother received him with all friendliness, and asked whether any food had been given him as alms.
"Oh yes," replied the Elder. "Where, pray?" "Why, in your village close by, at the squire's house." And so saying, the Elder asked to be shewn his cell and made it ready. Then laying aside his bowl and robe, and seating himself, he became absorbed in blissful Insight and enjoyed the bliss of the Fruits of the Paths.
In the evening came the squire, with servants carrying flowers and perfumes and lamps and oil. Saluting the resident Brother, he asked whether a guest had appeared, an Elder. Being told that he had, the squire asked where he was and learned which cell had been given him. Then the squire went to the Elder and, first bowing courteously, seated himself by the Elder's side and listened to a discourse. In the cool of the evening the squire made his offerings at the Tope and Bo-Tree, lit his lamp, and departed with an invitation to both Elder and Brother to come up to his house next day for their meal.
"I'm losing my hold on the squire," thought the Brother. "If this Elder stops, I shall count for nothing with him." So he was discontented and fell a-scheming how to make the Elder see that he must not settle down there for good. Accordingly, when the Elder came to pay his respects in the early morning, the Brother did not open his lips. The Arahat read the other's thoughts and said to himself, "This Brother knows not that I shall never stand in his light either with the family that supports him or with his Brotherhood." And going back to his cell, he became absorbed in the bliss of Insight, and in the bliss of the Fruits.
Next day, the resident Brother, having first knocked gingerly on the gong, and having tapped on the gong with the back of his nail, went off alone to the squire's house. Taking from him his alms-bowl, the squire bade him be seated and asked where the stranger was.
"I know no news of your friend," said the Brother. "Though I knocked on the gong and tapped at his door, I couldn't wake him. I can only presume that his dainty fare here yesterday has disagreed with him and that he is still a-bed in consequence. Possibly such doings may commend themselves to you."
(Meantime the Arahat, who had waited till the time came to go his round for alms, had washed and dressed and risen with bowl and robe in the air and gone elsewhere.)
The squire gave the Brother rice and milk to eat, with ghee and sugar and honey in it. Then he had his bowl scoured with perfumed chunam powder and filled afresh, saying, "Sir, the Elder must be fatigued with his journey; take him this." Without demur the Brother took the food and went his way, thinking to himself, "If our friend once gets a taste of this, taking him by the throat and kicking him out of doors won't get rid of him. But how can I get rid of it? If I give it away to a human being, it will be known. If I throw it into the water, the ghee will float on top. And as for throwing it away on the ground, that will only bring all the crows of the district flocking to the spot." In his perplexity his eye fell on a field that had been fired, and, scraping out the embers, he flung the contents of his bowl into the hole, filled in the embers on the top, and went off home. Not finding the Elder there, he thought that the Arahat had understood his jealousy and departed. "Woe is me," he cried, "for my greed has made me to sin."
And thenceforth sore affliction befell him and he became like a living ghost. Dying soon after, he was re-born in hell and there was tormented for hundreds of thousands of years. By reason of his ripening sin, in five hundred successive births he was an ogre and never had enough to eat, except one day when he enjoyed a surfeit of offal. Next, for five hundred more existences he was a dog, and here too, only on one single day had his fill--of a vomit of rice; on no other occasion did he have enough to eat. Even when he ceased to be a dog, he was only born into a beggar family in a Kasi village. From the hour of his birth, that family became still more beggared, and he never got half as much water-gruel as he wanted. And he was called Mitta-vindaka.
Unable at last to endure the pangs of hunger that now beset them, his father and mother beat him and drove him away, crying, "Begone, you curse!"
In the course of his wanderings, the little outcast came to Benares, where in those days the Bodhisatta was a teacher of world-wide fame with five hundred young Brahmins to teach. In those times the Benares folk used to give day by day commons of food to poor lads and had them taught free, and so this Mitta-vindaka also became a charity scholar under the Bodhisatta. But he was fierce and intractable, always fighting with his fellows and heedless of his master's reproofs; and so the Bodhisatta's fees fell off. And as he quarrelled so, and would not brook reproof, the youth ended by running away, and came to a border-village where he hired himself out for a living, and married a miserably poor woman by whom he had two children. Later, the villagers paid him to teach them what was true doctrine and what was false, and gave him a hut to live in at the entrance to their village. But, all because of Mitta-vindaka's coming to live among them, the king's vengeance fell seven times on those villagers, and seven times were their homes burned to the ground; seven times too did their water-tank dry up.
Then they considered the matter and agreed that it was not so with them before Mitta-vindaka's coming, but that ever since he came they had been going from bad to worse. So with blows they drove him from their village; and forth he went with his family, and came to a haunted forest. And there the demons killed and ate his wife and children. Fleeing thence, he came after many wanderings to a village on the coast called Gambhira, arriving on a day when a ship was putting to sea; and he hired himself for service aboard. For a week the ship held on her way, but on the seventh day she came to a complete standstill in mid-ocean, as though she had run upon a rock. Then they cast lots, in order to rid them of their bane; and seven times the lot fell on Mitta-vindaka. So they gave him a raft of bamboos, and laying hold of him, cast him over-board. And forthwith the ship made way again.
Mitta-vindaka clambered on to his bamboos and floated on the waves. Thanks to his having obeyed the commandments in the times of the Buddha Kassapa, he found in mid-ocean four daughters of the gods dwelling in a palace of crystal, with whom he dwelt happily for seven days. Now palace-ghosts enjoy happiness only for seven days at a time; and so, when the seventh day came and they had to depart to their punishment, they left him with an injunction to await their return. But no sooner were they departed, than Mitta-vindaka put off on his raft again and came to where eight daughters of the gods dwelt in a palace of silver. Leaving them in turn, he came to where sixteen daughters of the gods dwelt in a palace of jewels, and thereafter to where thirty-two dwelt in a palace of gold. Paying no regard to their words, again he sailed away and came to a city of ogres, set among islands. And there an ogress was ranging about in the shape of a goat. Not knowing that she was an ogress, Mitta-vindaka thought to make a meal off the goat, and seized hold of the creature by the leg. Straightway, by virtue of her demon-nature, she hurled him up and away over the ocean, and plump he fell in a thorn-brake on the slopes of the dry moat of Benares, and thence rolled to earth.
Now it chanced that at that time thieves used to frequent that moat and kill the King's goats; and the goatherds had bidden themselves hard by to catch the rascals.
Mitta-vindaka picked himself up and saw the goats. Thought he to himself, "Well, it was a goat in an island in the ocean that, being seized by the leg, hurled me here over seas. Perhaps, if I do the same by one of these goats, I may get hurled back again to where the daughters of the gods dwell in their ocean palaces." So, without thinking, he seized one of the goats by the leg. At once the goat began to bleat, and the goatherds came running up from every side. They laid hold of him at once, crying, "This is the thief that has so long lived on the King's goats." And they, beat him and began to haul him away in bonds to the King.
Just at that time the Bodhisatta, with his five hundred young Brahmins round him, was coming out of the city to bathe. Seeing and recognising Mitta-vindaka, he said to the goatherds, "Why, this is a pupil of mine, my good men; what have you seized him for?" "Master," said they, "we caught this thief in the act of seizing a goat by the lag, and that's why we've got hold of him." "Well," said the Bodhisatta, "suppose you hand him over to us to live with us as our slave." "All right, sir," replied the men, and letting their prisoner go, they went their way. Then the Bodhisatta asked Mitta-vindaka where he had been all that long time; and Mitta-vindaka told him all that he had done.
"'Tis through not hearkening to those who wished him well," said the Bodhisatta, "that he has suffered all these misfortunes." And he recited this stanza:--
The headstrong man who, when exhorted, pays
No heed to friends who kindly counsel give,
Shall come to certain harm,--like Mittaka,
When by the leg he seized the grazing goat.
And in those times both that Teacher and Mitta-vindaka passed away, and their after-lot was according to their deeds.
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Said the Master, "This Losaka was himself the cause both of his getting little and of his getting Arahatship." His lesson ended, he showed the connection and identified the Birth by saying, "The Elder Losaka Tissa was the Mitta-vindaka of those days, and I the Teacher of world-wide fame."
KHADIRANGARA-JATAKA.
Evil Seems Sweet Until It Ripens & Good May Seem Bad Until Good Matures
The Story of Anãthapindika
This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, about Anatha-pindika.
Anatha-pindika,
a millionaire, was the chief lay disciple and supporter of the Buddha.
His name Anatha-pindika, means the 'feeder of the helpless'. His
original name was Sudatta. Owing to his unparalleled generosity he was
given the new name. His birthplace was Sävatthi.
For
Anatha-pindika, who had lavished fifty-four crores on the Faith of the
Buddha over the Monastery alone (He purchased Jetvana from the King on
the condition that he will have to pay swarna mudra placing on the
ground equivalent to the area of the Jetvana), and who valued naught
else save only the Three Gems, used to go every day while the Master was
at Jetavana to attend the Great Services,--once at daybreak, once after
breakfast, and once in the evening. There were intermediate services
too; but he never went empty-handed, for fear the Novices and lads
should look to see what he had brought with him. When he went in the
early morning, he used to have rice-gruel taken up; after breakfast,
ghee, butter, honey, molasses, and the like; and in the evening, he
brought perfumes, garlands and cloths. So much did he expend day after
day, that his expense knew no bounds. Moreover, many traders borrowed
money from him on their bonds,--to the amount of eighteen crores; and
the great merchant never called the money in. Furthermore, another
eighteen crores of the family property, which were buried in the
river-bank, were washed out to sea, when the bank was swept away by a
storm; and down rolled the brazen pots, with fastenings and seals
unbroken, to the bottom of the ocean. In his house, too, there was
always rice standing ready for 500 Brethren,--so that the merchant's
house was to the Brotherhood like a pool dug where four roads meet, yea,
like mother and father was he to them. Therefore, even the
All-Enlightened Buddha used to go to his house, and the Eighty Chief
Elders too; and the number of other Brethren passing in and out was
beyond measure.
Now
his house was seven stories high and had seven portals; and over the
fourth gateway dwelt a fairy who was a heretic (a holder or adherent of
an opinion or belief that contradicts established religious teaching).
When the All-Enlightened Buddha came into the house, she could not stay
in her abode on high, but came down with her children to the
ground-floor; and she had to do the like whenever the Eighty Chief
Elders or the other Elders came in and out. Thought she, "So long as the
ascetic Gautama and his disciples keep coming into this house I can
have no peace here; I can't be eternally coming downstairs to the ground
floor. I must contrive to stop them from coming any more to this
house." So one day, when the business manager had retired to rest, she
appeared before him in visible shape.
"Who is that?" he asked.
"It
is I," was the reply; "the fairy who lives over the fourth gateway."
"What brings you here?" "You don't see what the merchant is doing.
Heedless of his own future, he is drawing upon his resources, only to
enrich the ascetic Gautama. He engages in no business travel; he
undertakes no business. Advise the merchant to attend to his business,
and arrange that the ascetic Gautama with his disciples shall come no
more into the house."
Then
said he, "Foolish Fairy, if the merchant does spend his money, he
spends it on the Faith of the Buddha, which leads to Salvation. Even it
he were to seize me by the hair and sell me for a slave, I will say
nothing. Begone!"
Another
day, she went to the merchant's eldest son and gave him the same
advice. And he flouted her in just the same manner. But to the merchant
himself she did not so much as dare to speak on the matter.
Now
by impression of unending generosity and of doing no business, the
merchant's incomings diminished and his estate grew less and less; so
that he sank by degrees into poverty, and his table, his dress, and his
bed and food were no longer what they had office been. Yet, in spite of
his altered circumstances, be continued to entertain the Brotherhood,
though he was no longer able to feast them. So one day when he had made
his bow and taken his seat, the Master said to him, "Householder, are
gifts being given at your house?" "Yes, sir," said he; "but there's only
a little sour husk-porridge (an empty outer shell or covering that no
longer serves any useful purpose), left over from yesterday." "Be not
distressed, householder, at the thought that you can only offer what is
unpalatable. If the heart be good, the food given to Buddhas, Pacceka
Buddhas and their disciples, cannot but be good too. And why?--Because
of the greatness of the fruit thereof. For he who can make his heart
acceptable cannot give an unacceptable gift,--as is to be testified by
the following passage:--
For, if the heart have faith, no gift is small
To Buddhas or to their disciples true.
'Tis said no service can be reckoned small
That's paid to Buddhas, lords of great renown.
Mark well what fruit rewarded that poor gift
Of pottage,--dried-up, sour, and lacking salt."
Also,
he said this further thing, "Householder, in giving this unpalatable
gift, you are giving it to those who have entered on the Noble Eightfold
Path. Whereas I, when in Velama's time I stirred up all India by giving
the seven things of price, and in my largesse poured then forth as
though I had made into one mighty stream the five great rivers,--I yet
found none who had reached the Three Refuges or kept the Five
Commandments; for rare are those who are worthy of offerings. Therefore,
let not your heart be troubled by the thought that your gift is
unpalatable." And so saying, he repeated the Velamaka Sutta.
Now
that fairy who had not dared to speak to the merchant in the days of
his magnificence, thought that now he was poor he would hearken to her,
and so, entering his chamber at dead of night she appeared before him in
visible shape, standing in mid-air. "Who's that?" said the merchant,
when he became aware of her presence. "I am the fairy, great merchant,
who dwells over the fourth gateway." "What brings you here?" "To give
you counsel." "Proceed, then." "Great merchant, you take no thought for
your own future or for your own children. You have expended vast sums on
the Faith of the ascetic Gotama; in fact, by long-continued expenditure
and by not undertaking new business you have been brought by the
ascetic Gotama to poverty. But even in your poverty you do not shake off
the ascetic Gotama! The ascetics are in and out of your house this very
day just the same! What they have had of you cannot be recovered. That
may be taken for certain. But henceforth don't you go yourself to the
ascetic Gotama and don't let his disciples set foot inside your house.
Do not even turn to look at the ascetic Gotama but attend to your trade
and traffic in order to restore the family estate."
Then he said to her, "Was this the counsel you wanted to give me?"
"Yes, it was."
Said
the merchant, "The mighty Lord of Wisdom has made me proof against a
hundred, a thousand, yea against a hundred thousand fairies such as you
are! My faith is strong and steadfast as Mount Sumeru! My substance has
been expended on the Faith that leads to Salvation. Wicked are your
words; it is a blow aimed at the Faith of the Buddhas by you, you wicked
and impudent witch. I cannot live under the same roof with you; be off
at once from my house and seek shelter elsewhere!" Hearing these words
of that converted man and elect disciple, she could not stay, but
repairing to her dwelling, took her children by the hand and went forth.
But though she went, she was minded, if she could not find herself a
lodging elsewhere, to appease the merchant and return to dwell in his
house; and in this mind she repaired to the tutelary deity of the city
and with due salutation stood before him. Being asked what had brought
her thither, she said, "My lord, I have been speaking imprudently to
Anatha-pindika, and he in his anger has turned me out of my home. Take
me to him and make it up between us, so that he may let me live there
again." "But what was it you said to the merchant?" "I told him for the
future not to support the Buddha and the Order, and not to let the
ascetic Gotama set foot again in his house. This is what I said, my
lord." "Wicked were your words; it was a blow aimed at the Faith. I
cannot take you with me to the merchant." Meeting with no support from
him, she went to the Four Great Regents of the world. And being repulsed
by them in the same manner, she went on to Sakka, king of Devas, and
told him her story, beseeching him still more earnestly, as follows,
"Deva, finding no shelter, I wander about homeless, leading my children
by the hand. Grant me of your majesty some place wherein to dwell."
And
he too said to her, "You have done wickedly; it was a blow aimed at the
Conqueror's Faith. I cannot speak to the merchant on your behalf. But I
can tell you one way whereby the merchant may be led to pardon you."
"Pray tell me, deva." "Men have had eighteen crores of the merchant on
bonds. Take the semblance of his agent, and without telling anybody
repair to their houses with the bonds, in the company of some young
goblins. Stand in the middle of their houses with the bond in one hand
and a receipt in the other, and terrify them with your goblin power,
saying, 'Here's your acknowledgment of the debt. Our merchant did not
move in the matter while he was affluent; but now he is poor, and you
must pay up the money you owe.' By your goblin power obtain all those
eighteen crores of gold and fill the merchant's empty treasuries. He had
another treasure buried in the banks of the river Aciravati, but when
the bank was washed away, the treasure was swept into the sea. Get that
back also by your supernatural power and store it in his treasuries.
Further, there is another sum of eighteen crores lying unowned in such
and such a place. Bring that too and pour the money into his empty
treasuries. When you have atoned by the recovery of these fifty-four
crores, ask the merchant to forgive you." "Very good, deva," said she.
And she set to work obediently, and did just as she had been bidden.
When she had recovered all the money, she went into the merchant's
chamber at dead of night and appeared before him in visible shape
standing in the air.
The
merchant asking who was there, she replied, "It is I, great merchant,
the blind and foolish fairy who lived over your fourth gateway. In the
greatness of my infatuate folly I knew not the virtues of a Buddha, and
so came to say what I said to you some days ago. Pardon me my fault! At
the instance of Sakka, king of Devas, I have made atonement by
recovering the eighteen crores owing to you, the eighteen crores which
had been washed down into the sea, and another eighteen crores which
were lying unowned in such and such a place,--making fifty-four crores
in all, which I have poured into your empty treasure-chambers. The sum
you expended on the Monastery at Jetavana is now made up again. Whilst I
have nowhere to dwell, I am in misery. Bear not in mind what I did in
my ignorant folly, great merchant, but pardon me."
Anatha-pindika,
hearing what she said, thought to himself, "She is a fairy, and she
says she has atoned, and confesses her fault. The Master shall consider
this and make his virtues. known to her. I will take her before the
All-Enlightened Buddha." So he said, "My good fairy, if you want me to
pardon you, ask me in the presence of the master." "Very good," said
she, "I will. Take me along with you to the Master." "Certainly," said
he. And early in the morning, when night was just passing away, he took
her with him to the Master, and told the Blessed One all that she had
done.
Hearing
this, the Master said, "You see, householder, how the sinful man
regards sin as excellent before it ripens to its fruit. But when it has
ripened, then he sees sin to be sin. Likewise the good man looks on his
goodness as sin before it ripens to its fruit; but when it ripens, he
sees it to be goodness." And so saying, he repeated these two stanzas
from the Dhammapada:--
The sinner thinks his sinful deed is good,
So long as sin has ripened not to fruit.
But when his sin at last to ripeness grows,
The sinner surely sees "'twas sin I wrought."
The good man thinks his goodness is but sin,
So long as it has ripened not to fruit.
But when his goodness unto ripeness grows,
The good man surely sees "'twas good I wrought."
At
the close of these stanzas that fairy was established in the Fruit of
the First Path. She fell at the Wheel-marked feet of the Master, crying,
"Stained as I was with passion, depraved by sin, misled by delusion,
and blinded by ignorance, I spoke wickedly because I knew not your
virtues. Pardon me!" Then she received pardon from the Master and from
the great merchant.
Then
the Buddha admonished both the treasurer and the fairy with reference
to the ripening of deeds both good and evil, saying, "Here in this
present life, great treasurer, even an evildoer sees happiness, so long
as his evil deed has not yet ripened. But so soon as his evil deed has
ripened, then he sees only evil. Likewise a good man sees evil things,
so long as his good deeds have not yet ripened; but so soon as his good
deeds have ripened, then he sees only happiness."
NANDA-JATAKA.
NANDA-JATAKA.
This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, about a co-resident scholar of Sariputta.
This Bhikku was submissive and obedient, and was enthusiastic in helping to the senior (Sariputta). Now, on one occasion the senior departed with the leave of the Master, on an alms-pilgrimage, and came to South Magadha. When he got there, that Bhikku grew so proud-stomached that he would not do what the Senior told him. Moreover, if he was addressed with, "Sir, do this," he quarreled with the senior. The senior could not make out what possessed him.
After making his pilgrimage in those parts, he came back again to Jetavana. The moment he got back to the monastery at Jetavana, the Bhikku became again what he had always been.
The Senior told this to the Buddha, saying, "Sir, a co-resident of mine is in one place like a slave bought for a hundred pieces, and in another so proud-stomached that an order to do anything makes him quarrel."
Said the Master, "This is not the first time, Sariputta, that he has shown this disposition; in the past too, if he went to one place, he was like a slave bought for a hundred pieces, whilst, if he went to another place, he would become quarrelsome and contentious." And, so saying, by request of the Senior, he told this story of the past.
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Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta came to life again as a squire (a title of respect given to a magistrate or local dignity, especially in a rural district). Another squire, a friend of his, was an old man himself, but had a young wife who had borne him a son and heir. Said the old man to himself, "As soon as I am dead, this girl, being so young as she is, will marry heaven knows whom, and spend all my money, instead of handing it over to my son. Wouldn't it be my best course to bury my money safely in the ground?"
So, in the company of a household slave of his named Nanda, he went to the forest and buried his riches at a certain spot, saying to the slave, "My good Nanda, reveal this treasure to my son after I am gone, and don't let the wood be sold."
After giving this injunction to his slave, the old man died. In due course the son grew up, and his mother said to him, "My son, your father, in the company of Nanda, buried his money. Get it back and look after the property of the family." So one day he said to Nanda, "Nunky, is there any treasure which my father buried?" "Yes, my lord." "Where is it buried?" "In the forest, my lord." "Well, then, let us go there." And he took a spade and a basket, and going to the scene, said to Nanda, "Well, nunky, where's the money?" But by the time Nanda had got up to the treasure and was standing right over it, he was so puffed up by the money that he abused his master, saying, "You servant of a slave-wench's son! how should you have any money here?"
The young gentleman, pretending not to have heard this insolence, simply said, "Let us be going then," and took the slave back home with him. Two or three days later, he returned to the place; but again Nanda abused him, as before. Without any abusive rejoinder, the young gentleman came back and turned the matter over in his mind. Thought he to himself, "At starting, this slave always means to reveal where the money is; but no sooner does he get there, than he falls to abusing me. The reason of this I do not see; but I could find out, if I were to ask my father's old friend, the squire." So he went to the Bodhisatta, and laying the whole business before him, asked his friend what was the real reason of such behaviour.
Said the Bodhisatta, "The spot at which Nanda stands to abuse you, my friend, is the place where your father's money is buried. Therefore, as soon as he starts abusing you again, say to him, 'Whom are you talking to, you slave?' Pull him from his perch, take the spade, dig down, remove your fancily treasure, and make the slave carry it home for you." And so saying, he repeated this stanza
I think. the gold and jewels buried lie
Where Nanda, low-born slave, so loudly bawls! (shout something in a loud and usually aggressive voice)
Taking a respectful leave of the Bodhisatta, the young gentleman went home, and taking Nanda went to the spot where the money was buried. Faithfully following the advice he had received, he brought the money away and looked after the family property. He remained steadfast in the Bodhisatta's counsels, and after a life spent in charity and other good works he passed away to fare according to his deserts.
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Said the Master, "In the past too this man was similarly disposed." His lesson ended, he showed the connection, and identified the Birth, by saying, Sariputta's co-resident was the Nanda of those days, and I the wise and good squire,"
KULAVAKA-JATAKA.
Dear Friends, following is one link where you will find a knowledge about service.
http://wisdomfromsrisriravishankar.blogspot.com/search/label/Service%20
I am art of living devotee, and I love teaching of Sri Sri RaviShankar; who, for me is simply a Great Guru !!! ( the next birth of Buddha). Lot of things are happening with me since I took first Basic Course of art of living. Lot many things to tell but .... let you experience yourself and then tell me.
The Jatak Katha, I am presenting here is about the importance of the "service" .... just enjoy....
KULAVAKA-JATAKA.
"Let all the forest's nestlings."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, about a brother who drank water without straining it.
Tradition says that two young Brothers who were friends went from Savatthi into the country, and took up their abode in a pleasant spot. After staying here as long as they wanted, they departed and set out for Jetavana in order to see the Perfect Buddha.
One of them carried a strainer; the other had none; so both of them used the same strainer before drinking. One day they fell out. The owner of the strainer did not lend it to his companion, but strained and drank alone by himself.
As the other was not allowed the strainer, and as he could not endure his thirst, he drank water without straining it. In due course both reached Jetavana and with respectful salutation to the Master took their seats. After friendly words of greeting, he asked whence they had come.
"Sir," said they, "we have been living in a hamlet in the Kosala country, whence we have come in order to see you." "I trust you have arrived as good friends as you started?" Said the brother without a strainer, "Sir, he fell out with me on the road and would not lend me his strainer.", Said the other, "Sir, he didn't strain his water, but--wittingly--drank it down with all the living things it contained." "Is this report true, Brother, that you wittingly drank off water with all the living things it contained?" "Yes, sir, I did drink unstrained water," was the reply. "Brother, the wise and good of bygone days, when flying in rout along the deep in the days of their sovereignty over the City of the Devas, thought scorn to slay living-creatures in order to secure power for themselves. Rather, they turned their chariot back, sacrificing great glory in order to save the lives of the young of the Garudas." And, so saying, he told this story of the past.
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Once on a time there was a king of Magadha reigning at Rajagaha in the laud of Magadha. And just as he who is now Sakka came to life in his preceding birth in the hamlet of Macala in the land of Magadha, even so was it in the selfsame hamlet that the Bodhisatta came to life in those days as a young noble. When the day for his naming came, he was named 'Prince Magha,' but when he grew up, it was as 'Magha the young Brahmin' that he was known. His parents took a wife for him from a family of equal rank with their own; and he, with a family of sons and daughters growing up round him, excelled in charity, and kept the Five Commandments.
In that village there were just thirty families, and one day the men were standing in the middle of the village transacting the affairs of the village. The Bodhisatta had kicked aside the dust from where he was standing, and was standing there in comfort, when up came another and took his stand there. Then the Bodhisatta made himself another comfortable standing-place,--only to have it taken from him like the first. Again and again the Bodhisatta began afresh until he had made comfortable standing-places for every man there. Another time he put up a pavilion,--which later on he pulled down, building a hall with benches and a jar of water inside. Another time these thirty men were led by the Bodhisatta to become like-minded with himself; he established them in the Five Commandments, and thenceforth used to go about with them doing good works. And they too doing good works, always in the Bodhisatta's company, used to get up early and sally forth, with razors and axes and clubs in their hands. With their clubs they used to roll out of the way all stones that lay on the four highways and other roads of the village; the trees that would strike against the axles of chariots, they cut down; rough places they made smooth; causeways they built, dug water-tanks, and built a hall; they shewed charity and kept the Commandments. In this wise did the body of the villagers generally abide by the Bodhisatta's teachings and keep the Commandments.
Thought the village headman to himself, "When these men used to get drunk and commit murders and so forth, I used to make a lot of money out of them not only on the price of their drinks but also by the fines and dues they paid. But now here's this young Magha bent on making them keep the Commandments; he is putting a stop to murders and other crime." And in his rage he cried, "I'll make them keep the Five Commandments!" And he repaired to the king, saying, "Sire, there is a band of robbers going about sacking villages and committing other villainies." When the king heard this, he bade the headman go and bring the men before him. And away went the man and hauled up as prisoners before the king every one of those thirty men, representing them to be the rascals. Without enquiry into their doings, the king commanded offhand that they should be trampled to death by the elephant. Forthwith they made them lie down in the king's court-yard and sent for the elephant. The Bodhisatta exhorted them, saying, "Bear in mind the Commandments; love the slanderer, the king and the elephant as yourselves." And they did so.
Then the elephant was brought in to trample them to death. Yet lead him as they might, he would not approach them, but fled away trumpeting loudly. Elephant after elephant was brought up;--but they all fled away like the first. Thinking that the men must have some drug about their persons, the king ordered them to be searched. Search was made accordingly, but nothing was found;--and so they told the king. "Then they must be muttering some spell," said the king; "ask them whether they have got a spell to mutter."
The question being put to them, the Bodhisatta said they had got a spell. And this the king's people told his majesty. So the king had them all summoned to his presence and said, "Tell me your spell."
The Bodhisatta made answer, "Sire, we have no other spell than this, that not a man among the whole thirty of us destroys life, or takes what is not given, or misconducts himself, or lies; we drink no strong drink; we abound in lovingkindness; we shew charity; we level the roads, dig tanks, and build a public hall;--this is our spell, our safeguard, and our strength."
Well-pleased with them, the king gave them all the wealth in the slanderer's house and made him their slave; and he gave them the elephant and the village to boot.
Thenceforward, doing good works to their hearts' content, they sent for a carpenter and caused him to put up a large hall at the meeting of the four highways; but as they had lost all desire for womankind, they would not let any woman share in the good work.
Now in those days there were four women in the Bodhisatta's house, whose names were Goodness, Thoughtful, Joy, and Highborn. Of these Goodness, finding herself alone with the carpenter, gave him a douceur, saying,--"Brother, contrive to make me the principal person in connexion with this hall."
"Very good," said he. And before doing any other work on the building, he had some pinnacle-wood dried, which he fashioned and bored and made into a finished pinnacle. This he wrapped up in a cloth and laid aside. When the hall was finished, and it was time to put on the pinnacle, he exclaimed, "Alas, my masters, there's one thing we have not made." "What's that?" "Why, we ought to have a pinnacle." "All right, let one be got." "But it can't be made out of green wood; we ought to have a pinnacle which had been cut some time ago, and fashioned, and bored, and laid by." "Well, what is to be done now?" "Why, have a look round to see if anybody has got such a thing in his house as a ready-made pinnacle for sale." As they. looked round accordingly, they found one in the house of Goodness, but could not buy it of her for any money. "If you will make me a partner in the good work," said she, "I will give it you for nothing."
"No," was the reply, "we do not let women have a share in the good work."
Then said the carpenter to them, "My masters, what is this you say? Save the Realm of Brahma, there is no place from which women are excluded. Take the pinnacle, and our work will be complete."
Consenting, they took the pinnacle and completed their hall. They had benches put up, and jars of water set inside, providing also a constant supply of boiled rice. Round the hall they built a wall with a gate, strewing the space inside the wall with sand and planting a row of fan-palms outside.
Thoughtful too caused a pleasaunce to be laid out at this spot, and not a flowering or fruit-bearing tree could be named which did not grow there.
Joy, too, caused a water-tank to be dug in the same place, covered over with the five kinds of lotuses, beautiful to behold.
High-born did nothing at all.
The Bodhisatta fulfilled these seven injunctions,--to cherish one's mother, to cherish one's father, to honour one's elders, to speak truth, to avoid harsh speech, to eschew slander, and to shun niggardliness:--
Whoso supports his parents, honours age,
Is gentle, friendly-spoken, slandering not,
Unchurlish, truthful, lord--not slave--of wrath,
--Him e'en the Thirty Three shall hail as Good.
Such was the praiseworthy state to which he grew, and at his life's close he passed away to be reborn in the Realm of the Thirty-three as Sakka, king of Devas; and there too were his friends reborn.
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In those days there were Asuras dwelling in the Realm of the Thirty-three. Said Sakka, King of Devas, "What good to us is a kingdom which others share?" So he made the Asuras drink the liquor of the Devas, and when they were drunken, he had them hurled by the feet on to the steeps of Mount Sineru. They tumbled right down to 'The Asura Realm,' as it is called,--a region on the lowest level of Mount Sineru, equal in extent to the Realm of the Thirty-three. Here grows a tree, resembling the Coral Tree of the Devas, which lasts for an aeon and is called the Pied Trumpet-flower. The blossoms of this tree shewed them at once that this was not the Realm of Devas, for there the Coral Tree blooms. So they cried, "Old Sakka has made us drunk and cast us into the great deep, seizing on our heavenly city." "Come," they shouted, "let us win back our own realm from him by force of arms." And up the sides of Sineru they climbed, like ants up a pillar.
Hearing the alarm given that the Asuras were up, Sakka went out into the great deep to give them battle, but being worsted in the fight turned and fled away along crest after crest of the southern deep in his 'Chariot of Victory,' which was a hundred and fifty leagues long.
Now as his chariot sped along the deep, it came to the Forest of the Silk-Cotton Trees. Along the track of the chariot these mighty trees were mowed down like so many palms, and fell into the deep. And as the young of the Garudas hurtled through the deep, loud were their shrieks. Said Sakka to Matali, his charioteer, "Matali, my friend, what manner of noise is this? How heartrending it sounds." "Sire, it is the united cry of the young Garudas in the agony of their fear, as their forest is uprooted by the rush of your chariot." Said the Great Being, "Let them not be troubled because of me, friend Matali. Let us not, for empire's sake, so act as to destroy life. Rather will I, for their sake, give my life as a sacrifice to the Asuras. Turn the car back." And so saying, he repeated this stanza
Let all the forest's nestlings, Matali,
Escape our all-devouring chariot.
I offer up, a willing sacrifice,
My life to yonder Asuras; these poor birds
Shall not, through me, from out their nests be torn.
At the word, Matali, the charioteer, turned the chariot round, and made for the Realm of Devas by another route. But the moment the Asuras saw him begin to turn his chariot round, they cried out that the Sakkas of other worlds were surely coming up; "it must be his reinforcements which make him turn his chariot back again." Trembling for their lives, they all ran away and never stopped till they came to the Asura Realm. And Sakka entering heaven, stood in the midst of his city, girt round by an angelic host of his own and of Brahma's angels. And at that moment through the riven earth there rose up the 'Palace of Victory,' some thousand leagues high,--so-called because it arose in the hour of victory. Then, to prevent the Asuras from coming back again, Sakka had guards set in five places,--concerning which it has been said:--
Impregnable both cities stand! between,
In fivefold guard, watch Nagas, Garudas,
Kumbhandas, Goblins, and the Four Great Kings!
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But when Sakka was enjoying as king of Devas the glory of heaven, safely warded by his sentinels at these five posts, Goodness died and was reborn as a handmaiden of Sakka once more. And the effect of her gift of the pinnacle was that there arose for her a mansion--named 'Goodness'--studded with heavenly jewels, five hundred leagues high, where, under a white heavenly canopy of royal state, sat Sakka, king of Devas, ruling men and Devas.
Thoughtful, too, died, and was once more born as a handmaiden of Sakka; and the effect of her action in respect of the pleasaunce was such that there arose a pleasaunce called 'Thoughtful's Creeper-Grove.' Joy, too, died and was reborn once more as one of Sakka's handmaidens; and the fruit of her tank was that there arose a tank called 'Joy' after her. But Highborn, having performed no act of merit, was reborn as a crane in a grotto in the forest.
"There's no sign of Highborn," said Sakka to himself; "I wonder where she has been reborn." And as he considered the matter, he discovered her whereabouts. So he paid her a visit, and bringing her back with him to heaven shewed her the delightful city of the Devas, the Hall of Goodness, Thoughtful's Creeper-Grove, and the Tank called Joy. "These three," said Sakka, "have been reborn as my handmaidens by reason of the good works they did; but you, having done no good work, have been reborn in the brute creation. Henceforth keep the Commandments." And having exhorted her thus, and confirmed her in the Five Commandments, he took her back and let her go free. And thenceforth she did keep the Commandments.
A short time afterwards, being curious to know whether she really was able to keep the Commandments, Sakka went and lay down before her in the shape of a fish. Thinking the fish was dead, the crane seized it by the head. The fish wagged its tail. "Why, I do believe it's alive," said the crane, and let the fish go. "Very good, very good," said Sakka; "you will be able to keep the Commandments." And so saying he went away.
Dying as a crane, Highborn was reborn into the family of a potter in Benares. Wondering where she had got to, and at last discovering her whereabouts, Sakka, disguised as an old man, filled a cart with cucumbers of solid gold and sat in the middle of the village, crying, "Buy my cucumbers! buy my cucumbers!" Folk came to him and asked for them. "I only part with them to such as keep the Commandments," said he, "do you keep them?" "We don't know what you mean by your 'Commandments'; sell us the cucumbers." "No; I don't want money for my cucumbers. I give them away,--but only to those that keep the Commandments." "Who is this wag?" said the folk as they turned away. Hearing of this, Highborn thought to herself that the cucumbers must have been brought for her, and accordingly went and asked for some. "Do you keep the Commandments, madam?" said he. "Yes, I do," was the reply. "It was for you alone that I brought these here," said he, and leaving cucumbers, cart and all at her door he departed.
Continuing all her life long to keep the Commandments, Highborn after her death was reborn the daughter of the Asura king Vepacittiya, and for her goodness was rewarded with the gift of great beauty. When she grew up, her father mustered the Asuras together to give his daughter her pick of them for a husband. And Sakka, who had searched and found out her whereabouts, donned the shape of an Asura, and came down, saying to himself, "If Highborn chooses a husband really after her own heart, I shall be he."
Highborn was arrayed and brought forth to the place of assembly, where she was bidden to select a husband after her own heart. Looking round and observing Sakka, she was moved by her love for him in a bygone existence to choose him for her husband. Sakka carried her off to the city of the devas and made her the chief of twenty-five millions of dancing-girls. And when his term of life ended, he passed away to fare according to his deserts.
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His lesson ended, the Master rebuked that Brother in these words, "Thus, Brethren, the wise and good of bygone days when they were rulers of the Devas, forbore, even at the sacrifice of their own lives, to be guilty of slaughter. And can you, who have devoted yourself to so saving a creed, drink unstrained water with all the living creatures it contains?" And he chewed the connexion and identified the Birth, by saying, "Ananda was then Matali the charioteer, and I Sakka."
MUNIKA-JATAKA.
MUNIKA-JATAKA.
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"Then envy not poor Munika."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana about being seduced by a plump young woman.
Then the Master asked that Brother, saying, "Is it true, Brother, as they say, that you are passion-test?" "It is true, sir," was the reply. "Brother," said the Master, "she is your bane; even in bygone days, you met your end and were made into a relish for the company on her marriage-day." And so saying, he told this story of the past.
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Once on a time, when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta came to life as an ox, named Big Red, on the squire's estate in a certain hamlet. And he had a younger brother who was known as Little Red. There were only these two brothers to do all the draught-work of the family. Also, the squire had an only daughter, whose hand was asked in marriage for his son by a gentleman of the town. And the parents of the girl, with a view to furnishing dainty fare for the wedding guests, began to fatten up a pig named Munika.
Observing this, Little Red said to his brother, "All the loads that have to be drawn for this household are drawn by you and me, my brother; but all they give us for our pains is sorry grass and straw to eat. Yet here is the pig being victualled on rice! What can be the reason why he should be treated to such fare?"
Said his brother, "My dear Little Red, envy him not; for the pig eats the food of death. It is but to furnish a relish for the guests at their daughter's wedding, that the family are feeding up the pig. Wait but a little time and the guests will be coining. Then will you see that pig lugged out of his quarters by the legs, killed, and in process of conversion into curry." And so saying, he repeated this stanza:--
Then envy not poor Munika; 'tis death
He eats. Contented munch your frugal chaff,--
The pledge and guarantee of length of days.
Not long afterwards the guests did arrive; and Munika was killed and cooked into all manner of dishes. Said the Bodhisatta to Little Red, "Did you see Munika, dear brother?" "I have indeed seen, brother, the outcome of Munika's feasting. Better a hundred, nay a thousand, times than such food is ours, though it be but grass, straw, and chaff;--for our fare harms us not, and is a pledge that our lives will not be cut short."
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When he had ended his lesson to the effect that the Brother had thus in bygone days been brought to his doom by that young woman and had been made into a relish for the company, he preached the Truths, at the close whereof the passion-tost Brother reached the First Path of Salvation. Also the Master shewed the connexion and identified the Birth by saying, "The passion-tost Brother was the pig Munika of those days, the young woman is the same in both cases, Ananda was Little Red, and I myself Big Red."
TITTIRA-JATAKA.
TITTIRA-JATAKA.
"For they who honour age."--This story was told by the Master whilst on his way to Savatthi, about the way in which the Elder Sariputta was kept out of a night's lodging.
For, when Anatha-pindika had built his monastery, and had sent word that it was finished, the Master left Rajagaha and came to Vesali, setting out again on his journey after stopping at the latter place during his pleasure. It was now that the disciples of the Six hurried on ahead, and, before quarters could be taken for the Elders, monopolized the whole of the available lodgings, which they distributed among their superiors, their teachers, and themselves. When the Elders came up later, they could find no quarters at all for the night. Even Sariputta's disciples, for all their searching, could not find lodgings for the Elder. Being without a lodging, the Elder passed the night at the foot of a tree near the Master's quarters, either walking up and down or sitting at the foot of a tree.
At early dawn the Master coughed as he came out. The Elder coughed too. "Who is that?" asked the Master. "It is I, Sariputta, sir." "What are you doing here at this hour, Sariputta?" Then the Elder told his story, at the close of which the Master thought, "Even now, while I am still alive, the Brethren lack courtesy and subordination; what will they not do when I am dead and gone?" And the thought filled him with anxiety for the Truth. As soon as day had come, he had the assembly of the Brethren called together, and asked them, saying, "Is it true, Brethren, as I hear, that the adherents of the Six went on ahead and kept the Elders among the Brethren out of lodgings for the night?" "That is so, Blessed One," was the reply. Thereupon, with a reproof to the adherents of the Six and as a lesson to all, he addressed the Brethren, and said, "Tell me, who deserves the best lodging, the best water, and the best rice, Brethren?" Some answered, "He who was a nobleman before he became a Brother." Others said, "He who was originally a brahmin, or a man of means." Others severally said, "The man versed in the Rules of the Order; the man who can expound the Law; the men who have won the first, second, third, or fourth stage of mystic ecstasy." Whilst others again said, "The man in the First, Second, or Third path of Salvation, or an Arahat; one who knows the Three Great Truths; one who has the Six Higher Knowledges."
After the Brethren had stated whom they severally thought worthiest of precedence in the matter of lodging and the like, the Master said, "In the religion which I teach, the standard by which precedence in the matter of lodging and the like is to be settled, is not noble birth, or having been a brahmin, or having been wealthy before entry into the Order; the standard is not familiarity with the Rules of the Order, with the Suttas, or with the Metaphysical Books; nor is it either the attainment of any of the four stages of mystic ecstasy, or the walking in any of the Four Paths of salvation. Brethren, in my religion it is seniority which claims respect of word and deed, salutation, and all due service; it is seniors who should enjoy the best lodging, the best water, and the best rice. This is the true standard, and therefore the senior Brother ought to have these things. Yet, Brethren, here is Sariputta, who is my chief disciple, who has set rolling the Wheel of Minor Truth, and who deserves to have a lodging next after myself. And Sariputta has spent this night without a lodging at the foot of a tree! If you lack respect and subordination even now, what will be your behaviour as time goes by?"
And for their further instruction he said, "In times past, Brethren, even animals came to the conclusion that it was not proper for them to live without respect and subordination one to another, or without the ordering of their common life; even these animals decided to find out which among them was the senior, and then to shew him all forms of reverence. So they looked into the matter, and having found out which of them was the senior, they shewed him all forms of reverence, whereby they passed away at that life's close to people heaven." And so saying, he told this story of the past.
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Once on a time, hard by a great banyan-tree on the slopes of the Himalayas, there dwelt three friends,--a partridge, a monkey, and an elephant. And they came to lack respect and subordination one to another, and had no ordering of their common life. And the thought came to them that it was not seemly for them to live in this way, and that they ought to find out which of their number was the senior and to honour him.
As they were engaged thinking which was the oldest, one day an idea struck them. Said the partridge and the monkey to the elephant as they all three sat together at the foot of that banyan-tree, "Friend elephant, how big was this banyan when you remember it first?" Said the elephant, "When I was a baby, this banyan was a mere bush, over which I used to walk; and as I stood astride of it, its topmost branches used just to reach up to my belly. I've known the tree since it was a mere bush."
Next the monkey was asked the same question by the other two; and he replied, "My friends, when I was a youngling, I had only to stretch out my neck as I sat on the ground, and I could eat the topmost sprouts of this banyan. So I've known this banyan since it was very tiny."
Then the partridge was asked the same question by the two others; and he said, "Friends, of old there was a great banyan-tree at such and such a spot; I ate its seeds, and voided them here; that was the origin of this tree. Therefore, I have knowledge of this tree from before it was born, and am older than the pair of you."
Hereupon the monkey and the elephant said to the sage partridge, "Friend, you are the oldest. Henceforth you shall have from us acts of honour and veneration, marks of obeisance and homage, respect of word and deed, salutation, and all due homage; and we will follow your counsels. You for your part henceforth will please impart such counsel as we need."
Thenceforth the partridge gave them counsel, and established them in the Commandments, which he also undertook himself to keep. Being thus established in the Commandments, and becoming respectful and subordinate among themselves, with proper ordering of their common life, these three made themselves sure of rebirth in heaven at this life's close.
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"The aims of these three"--continued the Master--"came to be known as the 'Holiness of the Partridge,' and if these three animals, Brethren, lived together in respect and subordination, how can you, who have embraced a Faith the Rules of which are so well-taught, live together without due respect and subordination? Henceforth I ordain, Brethren, that to seniority shall be paid respect of word and deed, salutation, and all due service; that seniority shall be the title to the best lodging, the best water, and the best rice; and nevermore let a senior be kept out of a lodging by a junior. Whosoever so keeps out his senior commits an offence."
It was at the close of this lesson that the Master, as Buddha, repeated this stanza:--
For they who honour age, in Truth are versed;
Praise now, and bliss hereafter, is their meed.
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When the Master had finished speaking of the virtue of reverencing age, he wade the connexion and identified the Birth by saying, "Moggallana was the elephant of those days, Sariputta the monkey, and I myself the sage partridge."
KANHA-JATAKA.
"With heavy loads."--This story was told by the Gautama Buddha while at Jetavana, about the Double Miracle
Gathering together in the Hall of Truth, the Bhikkhus sat praising the virtues of the Gautama Buddha, saying, "Sirs, peerless is the Buddha; none may bear the yoke borne by the Buddha. The Six teachers, though they protested so often that they, and they only, would perform miracles, yet not a single miracle did they work. O! how peerless is the Gautama Buddha!"
Entering the Hall and asking the theme which the Bhikkhus were discussing in conclave, the Gautama Buddha was informed that their theme was no other than his own virtues. "Bhikkhus," said the Gautama Buddha, "who shall now bear the yoke borne by me? Even in bygone days, when I came to life as an animal, I was unmatched." And, so saying, he told this story of the past.
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Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta came to life as a bull. And while he was still a young calf, his owners, who had been lodging with an old woman, made him over to her in settlement of their reckoning. She reared him like her own child, feeding him on rice-gruel and rice and on other good cheer. The name he became known by was "Granny's Blackie." Growing up, he used to range about with the other cattle of the village, and was as black as jet. The village urchins used to catch hold of his horns and ears and dewlaps, and have a ride; or they would hold on to his tail in play, and mount on his back.
One day he thought to himself, "My mother is very poor; she has painfully reared me, as if I were her own child. What if I were to earn some money to ease her hard lot?" Thenceforth he was always looking out for a job. Now, one day a young merchant at the head of a caravan came with five hundred waggons to a ford the bottom of which was so rough that his oxen could not pull the waggons through. And even when he took out the five hundred pairs of oxen and yoked the lot together to form one team, they could not get a single cart by itself across the river. Close by that ford the Bodhisatta was about with the other cattle of the village, And the young merchant, being a judge of cattle, ran his eye over the herd to see whether among them there was a thorough-bred bull who could pull the waggons across. When his eye fell on the Bodhisatta, he felt sure he would do; and, to find out the Bodhisatta's owner, he said to the herdsmen, "Who owns this animal? If I could yoke him on and get my waggons across, I would pay for his services." Said they, "Take him and harness him, then; he has got no master hereabouts."
But when the young merchant slipped a cord through the Bodhisatta's nose and tried to lead him off, the bull would not budge. For, we are told, the Bodhisatta would not go till his pay was fixed. Understanding his meaning, the merchant said, "Master, if you will pull these five hundred waggons across, I will pay you two coins per cart, or a thousand coins in all."
It now required no force to get the Bodhisatta to come. Away he went, and the men harnessed him to the carts. The first he dragged over with a single pull, and landed it high and dry; and in like manner he dealt with the whole string of waggons.
The young merchant tied round the Bodhisatta's neck a bundle containing five hundred coins, or at the rate of only one for each cart. Thought the Bodhisatta to himself, "This fellow is not paying we according to contract! I won't let him move on!" So he stood across the path of the foremost waggon and blocked the way. And try as they would, they could not get him out of the way. "I suppose he knows I've paid him short," thought the merchant; and he wrapped up a thousand coins in a bundle, which he tied round the Bodhisatta's neck, saying, "Here's your pay for pulling the waggons across." And away went the Bodhisatta with the thousand pieces of money to his "mother."
"What's that round the neck of Granny's Blackie?" cried the children of the village, running up to him. But the Bodhisatta made at them from afar and made them scamper off, so that he reached his "mother" all right. Not but what he appeared fagged out, with his eyes bloodshot, from dragging all those five hundred waggons over the river. The pious woman, finding a thousand pieces of money round his neck, cried out, "Where did you get this, my child?" Learning from the herdsmen what had happened, she exclaimed, "Have I any wish to live on your earnings, my child? Why did you go through all this fatigue?" So saying, she washed the Bodhisatta with warm water and rubbed him all over with oil; she gave him drink and regaled him with due victuals. And when her life closed, she passed away, with the Bodhisatta, to fare according to her deserts.
When he had ended this lesson to shew that the Buddha was unmatched in the past as then, he shewed the connexion by uttering, as Buddha, this stanza:--
With heavy loads to carry, with bad roads,
They harness 'Blackie'; he soon draws the load.
After his lesson to shew that only 'Blackie' could draw the load, he shewed the connexion, and identified the Birth by saying, "Uppala-Vanna was the old woman of those days, and I myself 'Granny's Blackie.'"
NANDIVISALA-JATAKA.
"Speak
only words of kindness."--This story was told by the Master while at
Jetavana, about the bitter words spoken by the Six. For, in those days
the six, when they disagreed with respectable Brethren, used to taunt,
revile and jeer them, and load them with the ten kinds of abuse. This
the Brethren reported to the Blessed One, who sent for the Six and asked
whether this charge was true. On their admitting its truth, he rebuked
them, saying, "Brethren, hard words gall even animals: in bygone days an
animal made a man who had used harsh language to him lose a thousand
pieces." And, so saying, he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once
on a time at Takkasila in the land of Gandhara there was a king
reigning there, and the Bodhisatta came to life as a bull. When he was
quite a tiny calf, he was presented by his owners to a brahmin who came
in--they being known to give away presents of oxen to such-like holy
men. The brahmin called it Nandi-Visala (Great-Joy), and treated it like
his own child, feeding the young creature on rice-gruel and rice. When
the Bodhisatta grew up, he thought thus to himself, "I have been brought
up by this brahmin with great pains, and all India cannot show the bull
which can draw what I can. How if I were to repay the brahmin the cost
of my nurture by making proof of my strength?" Accordingly, one day he
said to the brahmin, "Go, brahmin, to some merchant rich in herds, and
wager him a thousand pieces that your bull can draw a hundred loaded
carts."
The
brahmin went his way to a merchant and got into a discussion with him
as to whose oxen in. the town were the strong. "Oh, so-and-so's, or
so-and-so's," said the merchant. "But," added he, "there are no oxen in
the town which can compare with mine for real strength." Said the
brahmin, "I have a bull who can pull a hundred loaded carts." "Where's
such a bull to be found?" laughed the merchant. "I've got him at home,"
said the brahmin. "Make it a wager." "Certainly," said the brahmin, and
staked a thousand pieces. Then he loaded a hundred carts with sand,
gravel, and stones, and leashed the lot together, one behind the other,
by cords from the axle-tree of the one in front to the trace-bar of its
successor. This done, he bathed Nandi-Visala, gave him a measure of
perfumed rice to eat, hung a garland round his neck, and harnessed him
all alone to the leading cart. The brahmin in person took his seat upon
the pole, and flourished his goad in the air, shouting, "Now then, you
rascal! pull them along, you rascal!"
"I'm
not the rascal he calls me," thought the Bodhisatta to himself; and so
he planted his four feet like so many posts, and budged not an inch.
Straightway,
the merchant made the brahmin pay over the thousand pieces. His money
gone, the brahmin took his bull out of the cart and went home, where he
lay down on his bed in an agony of grief. When Nandi-Visala strolled in
and found the brahmin a prey to such grief, he went up to him and
enquired if the brahmin were taking a nap. "How should I be taking a
nap, when I have had a thousand pieces won of me?" "Brahmin, all the
time I have lived in your house, have I ever broken a pot, or squeezed
up against anybody, or made messes about?" "Never, my child." "Then, why
did you call me a rascal? It's you who are to blame, not I. Go and bet
him two thousand this time. Only remember not to miscall me rascal
again." When he heard this, the brahmin went off to the merchant, and
laid a wager of two thousand. Just as before, he leashed the hundred
carts to one another and harnessed Nandi-Visala, very spruce and fine,
to the leading cart. If you ask how he harnessed him, well, he did it in
this way:--first, he fastened the cross-yoke on to the pole; then he
put the bull in on one side, and made the other fast by fastening a
smooth piece of wood from the cross-yoke on to the axletree, so that the
yoke was taut and could not skew round either way. Thus a single bull
could draw a cart made to be drawn by two. So now seated on the pole,
the brahmin stroked Nandi-Visala on the back, and called on him in this
style, "Now then, my fine fellow! pull them along, my fine fellow!" With
a single pull the Bodhisatta tugged along the whole string of the
hundred carts till the hindermost stood where the foremost had started.
The merchant, rich in herds, paid up the two thousand pieces he had lost
to the brahmin. Other folks, too, gave large sums to the Bodhisatta,
and the whole passed into the hands of the brahmin. Thus did he gain
greatly by reason of the Bodhisatta.
_____________________________
Thus
laying down, by way of rebuke to the Six, the rule that hard words
please no one, the Master, as Buddha, uttered this stanza:--
Speak only words of kindness, never words
Unkind. For him who spoke him fair, he moved
A heavy load, and brought him wealth, for love.
When
he had thus ended his lesson as to speaking only words of kindness, the
Master identified the Birth by saying, "Ananda was the brahmin of those
days, and I myself Nandi-Visala."
ABHINHA-JATAKA.
Dear Friends, I was reading following questions and answers……. these are from a beautiful blog...
http://wisdomfromsrisriravishankar.blogspot.com/search/label/Love
Q: When we take rebirth when does the old soul enter the body?
Sri Sri Ravi Shankar: Rebirth happens! So many times we have died and taken birth. Soul can enter the womb at any one of the three times: at the time of conceiving, or the 3rd month of pregnancy, or at the time of birth. Many souls race and from these souls only one gets the body. In a race only one comes first, right? Sometimes, there are two then there are twins!
Q: I am into a field of research where I try to figure out the reasons of chaos in the world. In one of my researches when I was finding some conflicting threads in various religious prevalent beliefs, I found both Lord Budha and Lord Shankarya Charya had spoken of Soul. Can you throw some more light on seeming different statements of the Masters as per different times?
Sri Sri Ravi Shankar: Lord buddha said that everything is nothing. Everything dissolves into nothing. He said, I meditated to see the soul and found no soul.
Shakaracharya said: “Who searched? Who found that everything is nothing? Who said I did not find the Atma? That is Atma. That is what upanishads say. Buddha says the whole universe is empty like the space, Shankara Charya says the whole universe is full like space - everything is in space.
Q: There are two concepts: Re-incarnation and heaven and hell. Please speak about them!
Sri Sri Ravi Shankar: Re-incarnation is very scientific. Matter and energy cannot be destroyed. Mind is energy! It has been scientifically proven that re-incarnation happens. You need to read more!
The next story is about the friendship type of attraction or love amongst the souls....Abhinha Jataka - in marathi we call "abhinna" - "not seperate ".
---------
ABHINHA-JATAKA.
"No morsel can he eat."--This story was told by the Master (Gautama Buddha) while at Jetavana, about a disciple and an aged Bhikkhu.
Tradition says that there were in Savatthi two friends, of whom one joined the Brotherhood but used to go every day to the other's house, where his friend used to give him an alms of food and make a meal himself, and then accompany him back to the Monastery, where he sat talking all the livelong day till the sun went down, when he went back to town. And his friend the Brother used to escort him on his homeward way, going as far as the city-gates before turning back.
The intimacy of these two became known among the Brethren, who were sitting one day in the Hall of Truth, talking about the intimacy which existed between the pair, when the Master, entering the Hall, asked what was the subject of their talk; and the Brethren told him.
"Not only now, Brethren, are these two intimate with one another," said the Master; "they were intimate in bygone days as well."
And, so saying, he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta became his minister. In those days there was a dog which used to go to the stall of the elephant of state, and eat the gobbets of rice which fell where the elephant fed. Haunting the place for the food's sake, the dog grew very friendly with the elephant, and at last would never eat except with him. And neither could get on without the other. The dog used to disport himself by swinging backwards and forwards on the elephant's trunk. Now one day a villager bought the dog of the mahout and took the dog home with him. Thenceforward the elephant, missing the dog, refused either to eat or drink or take his bath; and the king was told of it. His majesty dispatched the Bodhisatta the minister to find out why the elephant behaved like this. Proceeding to the elephant-house, the Bodhisatta, seeing how sad the elephant was, and said to himself, "He has got no bodily ailment; he must have formed an ardent friendship, and is sorrowing at the loss of his friend." So he asked whether the elephant had become friends with anyone.
"Yes, my lord," was the answer; "there's a very warm friendship between him and a dog." "Where is that dog now?" "A man took it off." "Do you happen to know where that man lives?" "No, my lord." The Bodhisatta went to the king and said, "There is nothing the matter with the elephant, sire; but he was very friendly with a dog, and it is missing his friend which has made him refuse to eat, I imagine." And so saying, he repeated this stanza:
No morsel can he eat, no rice or grass;
And in the bath he takes no pleasure now.
Methinks, the dog had so familiar grown,
That elephant and dog were closest friends.
"Well," said the king on hearing this; "what is to be done now, sage?" "Let proclamation be made by beat of drum, your majesty, to the effect that a man is reported to have carried off a dog of which the elephant of state was fond, and that the man in whose house that dog shall be found, shall pay such and such a penalty." The king acted on this advice; and the man, when he came to hear of it, promptly let the dog loose. Away ran the dog at once, and made his way to the elephant. The elephant took the dog up in his trunk, and placed it on his head, and wept and cried, and, again setting the dog on the ground, saw the dog eat first and then took his own food. "Even the minds of animals are known to him," said the king, and he loaded the Bodhisatta with honors.
_____________________________
Thus the Master ended his lesson to show that the two were intimate in bygone days as well as at that date. This done, he unfolded the Four Truths. (This unfolding of the Four Truths forms part of all the other Jatakas; but we shall only mention it where it is expressly mentioned that it was blessed unto fruit.) Then he shewed the connexion, and identified the Birth by saying, "The lay-disciple was the dog of those days, the aged Elder was the elephant, and I myself the wise minister."
http://wisdomfromsrisriravishankar.blogspot.com/search/label/Love
Q: When we take rebirth when does the old soul enter the body?
Sri Sri Ravi Shankar: Rebirth happens! So many times we have died and taken birth. Soul can enter the womb at any one of the three times: at the time of conceiving, or the 3rd month of pregnancy, or at the time of birth. Many souls race and from these souls only one gets the body. In a race only one comes first, right? Sometimes, there are two then there are twins!
Q: I am into a field of research where I try to figure out the reasons of chaos in the world. In one of my researches when I was finding some conflicting threads in various religious prevalent beliefs, I found both Lord Budha and Lord Shankarya Charya had spoken of Soul. Can you throw some more light on seeming different statements of the Masters as per different times?
Sri Sri Ravi Shankar: Lord buddha said that everything is nothing. Everything dissolves into nothing. He said, I meditated to see the soul and found no soul.
Shakaracharya said: “Who searched? Who found that everything is nothing? Who said I did not find the Atma? That is Atma. That is what upanishads say. Buddha says the whole universe is empty like the space, Shankara Charya says the whole universe is full like space - everything is in space.
Q: There are two concepts: Re-incarnation and heaven and hell. Please speak about them!
Sri Sri Ravi Shankar: Re-incarnation is very scientific. Matter and energy cannot be destroyed. Mind is energy! It has been scientifically proven that re-incarnation happens. You need to read more!
The next story is about the friendship type of attraction or love amongst the souls....Abhinha Jataka - in marathi we call "abhinna" - "not seperate ".
---------
ABHINHA-JATAKA.
"No morsel can he eat."--This story was told by the Master (Gautama Buddha) while at Jetavana, about a disciple and an aged Bhikkhu.
Tradition says that there were in Savatthi two friends, of whom one joined the Brotherhood but used to go every day to the other's house, where his friend used to give him an alms of food and make a meal himself, and then accompany him back to the Monastery, where he sat talking all the livelong day till the sun went down, when he went back to town. And his friend the Brother used to escort him on his homeward way, going as far as the city-gates before turning back.
The intimacy of these two became known among the Brethren, who were sitting one day in the Hall of Truth, talking about the intimacy which existed between the pair, when the Master, entering the Hall, asked what was the subject of their talk; and the Brethren told him.
"Not only now, Brethren, are these two intimate with one another," said the Master; "they were intimate in bygone days as well."
And, so saying, he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta became his minister. In those days there was a dog which used to go to the stall of the elephant of state, and eat the gobbets of rice which fell where the elephant fed. Haunting the place for the food's sake, the dog grew very friendly with the elephant, and at last would never eat except with him. And neither could get on without the other. The dog used to disport himself by swinging backwards and forwards on the elephant's trunk. Now one day a villager bought the dog of the mahout and took the dog home with him. Thenceforward the elephant, missing the dog, refused either to eat or drink or take his bath; and the king was told of it. His majesty dispatched the Bodhisatta the minister to find out why the elephant behaved like this. Proceeding to the elephant-house, the Bodhisatta, seeing how sad the elephant was, and said to himself, "He has got no bodily ailment; he must have formed an ardent friendship, and is sorrowing at the loss of his friend." So he asked whether the elephant had become friends with anyone.
"Yes, my lord," was the answer; "there's a very warm friendship between him and a dog." "Where is that dog now?" "A man took it off." "Do you happen to know where that man lives?" "No, my lord." The Bodhisatta went to the king and said, "There is nothing the matter with the elephant, sire; but he was very friendly with a dog, and it is missing his friend which has made him refuse to eat, I imagine." And so saying, he repeated this stanza:
No morsel can he eat, no rice or grass;
And in the bath he takes no pleasure now.
Methinks, the dog had so familiar grown,
That elephant and dog were closest friends.
"Well," said the king on hearing this; "what is to be done now, sage?" "Let proclamation be made by beat of drum, your majesty, to the effect that a man is reported to have carried off a dog of which the elephant of state was fond, and that the man in whose house that dog shall be found, shall pay such and such a penalty." The king acted on this advice; and the man, when he came to hear of it, promptly let the dog loose. Away ran the dog at once, and made his way to the elephant. The elephant took the dog up in his trunk, and placed it on his head, and wept and cried, and, again setting the dog on the ground, saw the dog eat first and then took his own food. "Even the minds of animals are known to him," said the king, and he loaded the Bodhisatta with honors.
_____________________________
Thus the Master ended his lesson to show that the two were intimate in bygone days as well as at that date. This done, he unfolded the Four Truths. (This unfolding of the Four Truths forms part of all the other Jatakas; but we shall only mention it where it is expressly mentioned that it was blessed unto fruit.) Then he shewed the connexion, and identified the Birth by saying, "The lay-disciple was the dog of those days, the aged Elder was the elephant, and I myself the wise minister."
MAHILAMUKHA-JATAKA.
MAHILAMUKHA-JATAKA.
"Through
hearing first."--This story was told by the Master while at the
Bamboo-grove, about Devadatta, who, having secured the adherence of
Prince Ajata-sattu, had attained both gain and honour. Prince
Ajata-sattu had a Monastery built for Devadatta at Gaya-sisa, and every
day brought to him five hundred kettles of perfumed three-year-old rice
flavoured with all the choicest flavourings. All this gain and honour
brought Devadatta a great following, with whom Devadatta lived on,
without ever stirring out of his Monastery.
At
that time there were living in Rajagaha two friends, of whom one had
taken the vows under the Master, whilst the other had taken them under
Devadatta. And these continued to see one another, either casually or by
visiting the Monasteries. Now one day the disciple of Devadatta said to
the other, "Sir, why do you daily go round for alms with the sweat
streaming off you? Devadatta sits quietly at Gaya-sisa and feeds on the
best of fare, flavoured with all the choicest flavourings. There's no
way like his. Why breed misery for yourself? Why should it not be a good
thing for you to come the first thing in the morning to the Monastery
at Gaya-sisa and there drink our rice-gruel with a relish after it, try
our eighteen kinds of solid victual, and enjoy our excellent soft food,
flavoured with all the choicest flavourings?"
Being
pressed time after time to accept the invitation, the other began to
want to go, and thenceforth used to go to Gaya-sisa and there eat and
eat, not forgetting however to return to the Bamboo-grove at the proper
hour. Nevertheless he could not keep it secret always; and in a little
while it came out that he used to hie off to Gaya-sisa and there regale
himself with the food provided for Devadatta. Accordingly, his friends
asked him, saying, "Is it true, as they say, that you regale yourself on
the food provided for Devadatta?" "Who said that?" said he. "So-and-so
said it." "It is true, sirs, that I go to Gaya-sisa and eat there. But
it is not Devadatta who gives me food; others do that." "Sir, Devadatta
is the foe of the Buddhas; in his wickedness, he has secured the
adherence of Ajata-sattu and by unrighteousness got gain and honour for
himself. Yet you who have taken the vows according to this faith which
leads to salvation, eat the food which Devadatta gets by
unrighteousness. Come; let us bring you before the Master." And, taking
with them the Brother, they went to the Hall of Truth.
When
the Master became aware of their presence, he said, "Brethren, are you
bringing this Brother here against his will?" "Yes, sir; this Brother,
after taking the vows under you, eats the food which Devadatta gets by
unrighteousness." "Is it true, as they say, that you eat the food which
Devadatta gets by unrighteousness?" "It was not Devadatta, sir, that
gave it me, but others." "Raise no quibbles here, Brother," said the
Master. "Devadatta is a man of bad conduct and bad principle. Oh, how
could you, who have taken the vows here, eat Devadatta's food, whilst
adhering to my doctrine? But you have always been prone to being led
away, and have followed in turn every one you meet." And, so saying, he
told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares ,
he Bodhisatta became his minister. In those days the king had a state
elephant, named Damsel-face, who was virtuous and good, and never hurt
anybody.
Now
one day some burglars came close up to the elephant's stall by night
and sat down to discuss their plans in these words:--"This is the way to
tunnel into a house; this is the way to break in through the walls;
before carrying off the plunder, the tunnel or breach in the walls ought
to be made as clear and open as a road or a ford. In lifting the goods,
you shouldn't stick at murder; for thus there will be none able to
resist. A burglar should get rid of all goodness and virtue, and be
quite pitiless, a man of cruelty and violence." After having schooled
one another in these counsels, the burglars took themselves off. The
next day too they came, and many other days besides, and held like
converse together, till the elephant came to the conclusion that they
came expressly to instruct him, and that he must turn pitiless, cruel,
and violent. And such indeed he became. No sooner did his mahout appear
in the early morning than the elephant took the man in his trunk and
dashed him to death on the ground. And in the same way he treated a
second, and a third, and every person in turn who came near him.
The
news was brought to the king that Damsel-face had gone mad and was
killing everybody that he caught sight of. So the king sent the
Bodhisatta, saying, "Go, sage, and find out what has perverted him."
Away
went the Bodhisatta, and soon satisfied himself that the elephant
showed no signs of bodily ailment. As he thought over the possible
causes of the change, he came to the conclusion that the elephant must
have heard persons talking near him, and have imagined that they were
giving him a lesson, and that this was what had perverted the animal.
Accordingly, he asked the elephant-keepers whether any persons had been
talking together recently near the stall by night. "Yes, my lord," was
the answer; "some burglars came and talked." Then the Bodhisatta went
and told the king, saying, "There is nothing wrong, sire, with the
elephant bodily; he has been perverted by overhearing some burglars
talk." "Well, what is to be done now?" "Order good men, sages and
brahmins, to sit in his stall and to talk of goodness." "Do so, my
friend," said the king. Then the Bodhisatta set good men, sages and
brahmins, in the stall, and bade them talk of goodness. And they, taking
their seats hard by the elephant, spoke as follows, "Neither maltreat
nor kill. The good should be long-suffering, loving, and merciful."
Hearing this the elephant thought they must mean this as a lesson for
him, and resolved thenceforth to become good. And good he became.
"Well,
my friend," said the king to the Bodhisatta; "is he good now?" "Yes,
your majesty," said the Bodhisatta; "thanks to wise and (food men the
elephant who was so perverted has become himself again." And so saying,
he repeated this stanza:
Through hearing first the burglars' wicked talk
Damsel-face ranged abroad to wound and kill;
Through hearing, later, wise men's lofty words
The noble elephant turned good once more.
Said
the king, "He can read the mind even of an animal!" And he conferred
great honour on the Bodhisatta. After living to a good old age, he, with
the Bodhisatta, passed away to fare according to his deserts.
_____________________________
Said
the Master,--"In the past, too, you followed everyone you met, Brother;
hearing burglars talk, you followed what they said; and hearing the
wise and good talk, you followed what they said." His lesson ended, he
shewed the connexion, and identified the Birth, by saying, "The
traitorous Brother was the Damsel-face of those days, Ananda the king,
and I myself the minister."
KUKKURA-JATAKA
KUKKURA-JATAKA.
"The dogs that in the royal palace grow."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, about acting for the good of kinsfolk.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the result of a past act of the Bodhisatta was that he came to life as a dog, and dwelt in a great cemetery at the head of several hundred dogs.
Now one day, the king set out for his pleasaunce in his chariot of state drawn by milk-white horses, and after amusing himself all the day in the grounds came back to the city after sunset. The carriage-harness they left in the courtyard, still hitched on to the chariot. In the night it rained and the harness got wet.
Moreover, the king's dogs came down from the upper chambers and gnawed the leather work and straps. Next day they told the king, saying, "Sire, dogs have got in through the mouth of the sewer and have gnawed the leather work and straps of your majesty's carriage." Enraged at the dogs, the king said, "Kill every dog you see."
Then began a great slaughter of dogs; and the creatures, finding that they were being slain whenever they were seen, repaired to the cemetery to the Bodhisatta. "What is the meaning," asked he, "of your assembling in such numbers?" They said, "The king is so enraged at the report that the leather work and straps of his carriage have been gnawed by dogs within the royal precincts, that he has ordered all dogs to be killed. Dogs are being destroyed wholesale, and great peril has arisen."
Thought the Bodhisatta to himself, "No dogs from without can get into a place so closely watched; it must be the thoroughbred dogs inside the palace who have done it. At present nothing happens to the real culprits, while the guiltless are being put to death. What if I were to discover the culprits to the king and so save the lives of my kith and kin?" He comforted his kinsfolk by saying, "Have no fear; I will save you. Only wait here till I see the king."
Then, guided by the thoughts of love, and calling to mind the Ten Perfections, he made his way alone and unattended into the city, commanding thus, "Let no hand be lifted to throw stick or stone at me." Accordingly, when he made his appearance, not a man grew angry at the sight of him.
The king meantime, after ordering the dogs' destruction, had taken his seat in the hall of justice. And straight to him ran the Bodhisatta, leaping under the king's throne. The king's servants tried to get him out; but his majesty stopped them. Taking heart a little, the Bodhisatta came forth from under the throne, and bowing to the king, said, "Is it you who are having the dogs destroyed?" "Yes, it is I." "What is their offence, king of men?" "They have been gnawing the straps and the leather covering my carriage." "Do you know the dogs who actually did the mischief?" "No, I do not." "But, your majesty, if you do not know for certain the real culprits, it is not right to order the destruction of every dog that is seen." "It was because dogs had gnawed the leather of my carriage that I ordered them all to be killed." "Do your people kill all dogs without exception; or are there some dogs who are spared?" "Some are spared,--the thorough-bred dogs of my own palace." "Sire, just now you were saying that you had ordered the universal slaughter of all dogs wherever found, because dogs had gnawed the leather of your carriage; whereas, now, you say that the thorough-bred dogs of your own palace escape death. Therefore you are following the four Evil Courses of partiality, dislike, ignorance and fear. Such courses are wrong, and not kinglike. For kings in trying cases should be as unbiassed as the beam of a balance. But in this instance, since the royal dogs go scot-free, whilst poor dogs are killed, this is not the impartial doom of all dogs alike, but only the slaughter of poor dogs," And moreover, the Great Being, lifting up his sweet voice, said, "Sire, it is not justice that you are performing," and he taught the Truth to the king in this stanza:--
The dogs that in the royal palace grow,
The well-bred dogs, so strong and fair of form,
Not these, but only we, are doomed to die.
Here's no impartial sentence meted out
To all alike; 'tis slaughter of the poor.
After listening to the Bodhisatta's words, the king said, "Do you in your wisdom know who it actually was that gnawed the leather of my carriage?" "Yes, sire." "Who was it?" "The thorough-bred dogs that live in your own palace." "How can it he shewn that it was they who gnawed the leather?" "I will prove it to you." "Do so, sage." "Then send for your dogs, and have a little butter-milk and kusa-grass brought in." The king did so.
Then said the Great Being, "Let this grass be mashed up in the butter-milk, and make the dogs drink it."
The king did so;--with the result that each several dog, as he drank, vomited. And they all brought up bits of leather! "Why it is like a judgment of a Perfect Buddha himself," cried the king overjoyed, and he did homage to the Bodhisatta by offering him the royal umbrella. But the Bodhisatta taught the Truth in the ten stanzas on righteousness in the Te-sakuna Jataka, beginning with the words:--
Walk righteously, great king of princely race.
Then having established the king in the Five Commandments, and having exhorted his majesty to be steadfast, the Bodhisatta handed back to the king the white umbrella of kingship.
At the close of the Great Being's words, the king commanded that the lives of all creatures should be safe from harm. He ordered that all dogs from the Bodhisatta downwards, should have a constant supply of food such as he himself ate; and, abiding by the teachings of the Bodhisatta, he spent his life long in charity and other good deeds, so that when he died he was re-born in the Deva Heaven. The 'Dog's Teaching' endured for ten thousand years. The Bodhisatta also lived to a ripe old age, and then passed away to fare according to his deserts.
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When the Master had ended this lesson, and had said, "Not only now, Brethren, does the Buddha do what profits his kindred; in former times also he did the like,"--he shewed the connexion, and identified the Birth by saying,
"Ananda was the king of those days, the Buddha's followers were the others, and I myself was the dog."
KURUNGA-JATAKA.
KURUNGA-JATAKA.
Dear friends this Jataka tells us about people around us. Like Devadatta they are around us in different times. Their behavior causes us a lot trouble in mind.
Just look into the experience from Master..Gautam Buddha.
"The antelope knows well."--This story was told by the Master while at the Bamboo-grove about Devadatta.
For once when the Brethren were gathered together in the Hall of Truth, they sat talking reproachfully of Devadatta, saying, "Sirs, with a view to destroy the Buddha Devadatta hired bowmen, hurled down a rock, and let loose the elephant Dhana-palaka; in every way he goes about to slay the Lord of Wisdom."
Entering and seating himself on the seat prepared for him, the Master asked, saying, "Sirs, what is the theme you are discussing here in conclave?" "Sir," was the reply, "we were discussing the wickedness of Devadatta, saying that he was always going about to slay you." Said the Master, "It is not only in these present days, Brethren, that Devadatta goes about seeking to slay me; he went about with the like intent in bygone days also,--but was unable to slay me." And so saying, he told this story of the past.
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Once upon a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta came to life as an antelope, and used to live on fruits in his haunts in the forest.
At one period he was subsisting on the fruit of a sepanni-tree. And there was a village hunter, whose method was to build a platform in trees at the foot of which he found the track of deer, and to watch aloft for their coming to eat the fruits of the trees. When the deer came, he brought them down with a javelin, and sold the flesh for a living.
This hunter one day marked the tracks of the Bodhisatta at the foot of the tree, and made himself a platform up in the boughs. Having breakfasted early, he went with his javelin into the forest and seated himself on his platform. The Bodhisatta, too, came abroad early to eat the fruit of that tree; but he was not in too great a hurry to approach it. "For," thought he to himself, "sometimes these platform-building hunters build themselves platforms in the boughs. Can it be that this cell have happened here?" And he halted some way off to reconnoitre. Finding that the Bodhisatta did not approach, the hunter, still seated aloft on his platform, threw fruit down in front of the antelope. Said the latter to himself, "Here's the fruit coming to meet me; I wonder if there is a hunter up there."
So he looked, and looked, till he caught sight of the hunter in the tree; but, feigning not to have seen the man, he shouted, "My worthy tree, hitherto you have been in the habit of letting your fruit fall straight to the ground like a pendant creeper; but to-day you have ceased to act like a tree. And therefore, as you have ceased to behave as becomes a tree, I too must change, and look for food beneath another tree." And so saying, he repeated this stanza:
The antelope knows well the fruit you drop.
I like it not; some other tree I'll seek.
Then the hunter from his platform hurled his javelin at the Bodhisatta, crying, "Begone! I've missed you this time." Wheeling round, the Bodhisatta halted and said, "You may have missed me, my good man; but depend upon it, you have not missed the reward of your conduct, namely, the eight Large and the sixteen Lesser hells and all the five forms of bonds and torture." With these words the antelope bounded off on its way; and the hunter, too, climbed down and went his way.
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When the Master had ended this discourse and had repeated what he had said about Devadatta's going about to slay him in bygone days also, he showed the connexion and identified the Birth, by saying, "Devadatta was the platform-hunter of those days, and I myself the antelope."
NALAPANA-JATAKA.
NALAPANA-JATAKA.
"I
found the footprints." This story was told by the Master whilst
journeying on an alms-pilgrimage through Kosala, when he had come to the
village of Nalaka-pana (Cane-drink) and was dwelling at Ketaka-vana
near the Pool of Nalaka-pana, about cane-sticks. In those days the
Brethren, after bathing in the Pool of Nalaka-pana, made the novices get
them cane-sticks for needle-cases, but, finding them hollow throughout,
went to the Master and said, "Sir, we had cane-sticks got in order to
provide needle-cases; and from top to bottom they are quite hollow. Now
how can that be?"
"Brethren," said the Master, "such was my ordinance in times gone by." And, so saying, he told this story of the past.
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In
past times, we are told, there was a thick forest on this spot. And in
the lake here dwelt a water-ogre who used to devour everyone who went
down into the water. In those days the Bodhisatta had come to life as
the king of the monkeys, and was as big as the fawn of a red deer; he
lived in that forest at the head of a troop of no less than eighty
thousand monkeys whom he shielded from harm. Thus did he counsel his
subjects:--"My friends, in this forest there are trees that are
poisonous and lakes that are haunted by ogres. Mind to ask me first
before you either eat any fruit which you have not eaten before, or
drink of any water where you have not drunk before." "Certainly," said
they readily.
One
day they came to a spot they had never visited before. As, they were
searching for water to drink after their day's wanderings, they came on
this lake. But they did not drink; on the contrary they sat down
watching for the coming of the Bodhisatta.
When he came up, he said, "Well, my friends, why don't you drink?"
"We waited for you to come."
"Quite
right, my friends," said the Bodhisatta. Then he made a circuit of the
lake, and scrutinized the footprints round, with the result that he
found that all the footsteps led down into the water and none came up
again. "Without doubt," thought he to himself, "this is the haunt of an
ogre." So he said to his followers, "You are quite right, my friends, in
not drinking of this water; for the lake is haunted by an ogre."
When
the water-ogre realised that they were not entering his domain, he
assumed the shape of a horrible monster with a blue belly, a white face,
and bright-red hands and feet; in this shape he came out from the
water, and said, "Why are you seated here? Go down into the lake and
drink." But the Bodhisatta said to him, "Are not you the ogre of this
water?" "Yes, I am," was the answer. "Do you take as your prey all those
who go down into this water?" "Yes, I do; from small birds upwards, I
never let anything go which comes down into my water. I will eat the lot
of you too." "But we shall not let you eat us." "Just drink the water."
"Yes, we will drink the water, and yet not fall into your power." "How
do you propose to drink the water, then?" "Ah, you think we shall have
to go down into the water to drink; whereas we shall not enter the water
at all, but the whole eighty thousand of us will take a cane each and
drink therewith from your lake as easily as we could through the hollow
stalk of a lotus. And so you will not be able to eat us." And he
repeated the latter half of the following stanza (the first half being
added by the Master when, as Buddha, he recalled the incident):--
I found the footprints all lead down, none back.
With canes we'll drink; you shall not take my life.
So
saying, the Bodhisatta had a cane brought to him. Then, calling to mind
the Ten Perfections displayed by him, he recited them in a solemn
asseveration, and blew down the cane. Straightway the cane became hollow
throughout, without a single knot being left in all its length. In this
fashion he had another and another brought and blew down them. Next the
Bodhisatta made the tour of the lake, and commanded, saying, "Let all
canes growing here become hollow throughout." Now, thanks to the great
virtues of the saving goodness of Bodhisattas, their commands are always
fulfilled. And thenceforth every single cane that grew round that lake
became hollow throughout. After giving this command, the Bodhisatta
seated himself with a cane in his hands. All the other eighty thousand
monkeys too seated themselves round the lake, each with a cane in his
hands. And at the same moment when the Bodhisatta sucked the water up
through his cane, they all drank too in the same manner, as they sat on
the bank. This was the way they drank, and not one of them could the
water-ogre get; so he went off in a rage to his own habitation. The
Bodhisatta, too, with his following went back into the forest.
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When
the Master had ended his lesson and had repeated what he had said as to
the hollowness of the canes being the result of a former ordinance of
his own, he shewed the connexion, and identified the Birth by saying,
"Devadatta was the water-ogre of those days; my disciples were the
eighty thousand monkeys; and I was the monkey-king, so fertile in
resource."
MATAKABHATTA-JATAKA.
MATAKABHATTA-JATAKA.
"If folk but knew."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana about Feasts for the Dead. For at this time the folk were putting to death goats, sheep, and other animals, and offering them up as what is called a Feast for the Dead, for the sake of their departed kinsmen. Finding them thus engaged, the Brethren asked the Master, saying, "Just now, sir, the folk are taking the lives of many living creatures and offering them up as what is called a Feast for the Dead. Can it be, sir, that there is any good in this?"
"No, Brethren" replied the Master; "not even when life is taken with the object of providing a Feast for the Dead, does any good arise therefrom. In bygone days the wise, preaching the Truth from mid-air, and shewing the evil consequences of the practice, made the whole continent renounce it. But now, when their previous existences have become confused in their minds, the practice has sprung up afresh." And, so saying, he told this story of the past.
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Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, a brahmin, Who was versed in the Three Vedas and world-famed as a teacher, being minded to offer a Feast for the Dead, had a goat fetched and said to his pupils, "My sons, take this goat down to the river and bathe it; then hang a garland round its neck, give it a pottle of grain to eat, groom it a bit, and bring it back."
"Very good," said they, and down to the river they took the goat, where they bathed and groomed the creature and set it on the bank, The goat, becoming conscious of the deeds of its past lives, was overjoyed at the thought that on this very day it would be freed from all its misery, and laughed aloud like the smashing of a pot. Then at the thought that the brahmin by slaying it would bear the misery which it had borne, the goat felt a great compassion for the brahmin, and wept with a loud voice. "Friend goat," said the young brahmins, "your voice has been loud both in laughter and in weeping; what made you laugh and what made you weep?"
"Ask me your question before your master."
So with the goat they came to their master and told him of the matter. After hearing their story, the master asked the goat why it laughed and why it wept. Hereupon the animal, recalling its past deeds by its power of remembering its former existences, spoke thus to the brahmin:--"In times past, brahmin, I, like you, was a brahmin versed in the mystic texts of the Vedas, and I, to offer a Feast for the Dead, killed a goat for my offering. All through killing that single goat, I have had my head cut off five hundred times all but one. This is my five hundredth and last birth; and I laughed aloud when I thought that this very day I should be freed from my misery. On the other hand, I wept when I thought how, whilst I, who for killing a goat had been doomed to lose my head five hundred times, was to-day being freed from my misery, you, as a penalty for killing me, would be doomed to lose your head, like me, five hundred times. Thus it was out of compassion for you that I wept." "Fear not, goat," said the brahmin; "I will not kill you." "What is this you say, brahmin?" said the goat. "Whether you kill me or not, I cannot escape death to-day." "Fear not, goat; I will go about with you to guard you." "Weak is your protection, brahmin, and strong is the force of my evil-doing."
Setting the goat at liberty, the brahmin said to his disciples, "Let us not allow anyone to kill this goat;" and, accompanied by the young men, he followed the animal closely about. The moment the goat was set free, it reached out its neck to browse on the leaves of a bush growing near the top of a rock. And that very instant a thunderbolt struck the rock, rending off a mass which hit the goat on the outstretched neck and tore off its head. And people came crowding round.
In those days the Bodhisatta had been born a Tree-Fairy in that selfsame spot. By his supernatural powers he now seated himself cross-legged in mid-air while all the crowd looked on. Thinking to himself. 'If these creatures only knew the fruit of evil-doing, perhaps they would desist from killing,' in his sweet voice he taught them the Truth in this stanza:--
If folk but knew the penalty would be
Birth unto sorrow, living things would cease
From taking life. Stern is the slayer's doom.
Thus did the Great Being preach the Truth, scaring his hearers with the fear of hell; and the people, hearing him, were so terrified at the fear of hell that they left off taking life. And the Bodhisatta after establishing the multitude in the Commandments by preaching the Truth to them, passed away to fare according to his deserts. The people, too, remained steadfast in the teaching of the Bodhisatta and spent their lives in charity and other good works, so that in the end they thronged the City of the Devas.
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His lesson ended, the Master shewed the connexion, and identified the Birth by saying, "In those days I was the Tree-fairy."
MALUTA-JATAKA.
MALUTA-JATAKA.
Brothers there are always differences amongst the followers of the great Gurus or Buddha! Who are these Buddha? They are the people around you. Living peaceful life with a great drive force commanded by the almighty God!
They are the people who enjoy the great wealth by virtue and not by just looting poor people. They live the life, with love by all other around them. Not only relatives respect them but common men also respect them. The mighty people, when you see around, may be like any of the Hero your look into their behavior and feel you could be like them.
When two great people are around they will have same idea about something, which they will try to put differently or in pursuit to show I am the great they will try to put differences. following story presents a similar situation.....
"In light or dark."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana about two Brethren (Bhikkhus) who had joined the Brotherhood (Sangha) in their old age. Tradition says that they were living in a forest-dwelling in the Kosala country, and that one was named the Elder Dark and the other the Elder Light. Now one day Light said to Dark, "Sir, at what time does what is called cold appears?" "It appears in the dark half of the month." And one day Dark said to Light, "Sir, at what time does what is called cold appear?" "It appears in the light half of the month."
As the pair of them together could not solve the question, they went to the Master and with due salutation asked, saying, "Sir, at what time does what is called cold appear?"
After the Master had heard what they had to say, he said, "Brethren, in bygone days also, I answered for you this same question; but your previous existences have become confused in your minds." And so saying, he told this story of the past.
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Once on a time at the foot of a certain mountain there were living together in one and the same cave two friends, a lion and a tiger. The Bodhisattva too was living at the foot of the same hill, as a hermit.
Now one day a dispute arose between the two friends about the cold. The tiger said it was cold in the dark half of the month, whilst the lion maintained that it was cold in the light half. As the two of them together could not settle the question, they put it to the Bodhisattva. He repeated this stanza
In light or dark half, whensoever the wind
Doth blow, 'tis cold. For cold is caused by wind.
And, therefore, I decide you both are right.
Thus did the Bodhisattva make peace between those friends.
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When the Master had ended his lesson in support of what he had said as to his having answered the same question in bygone days, he preached the Four Truths, at the close where of both of the Elders won the Fruit of the First Path. The Master showed the connection and identified the Birth, by saying, "Dark was the tiger of those days, Light the lion, and I myself the ascetic who answered the question."
TIPALLATTHA-MIGA-JATAKA.
TIPALLATTHA-MIGA-JATAKA.
"In all three postures."--This story was told by the Master while dwelling do the Badarika Monastery in Kosambi, about the Elder Rahula whose heart was set on observing the rules of the Brotherhood.
Once when the Master was dwelling in the Aggalava Temple hard by the town of Alavi, many female lay-disciples and Sisters used to flock thither to hear the Truth preached. The preaching was in the daytime, but as time wore on, the women did not attend, and there were only Brethren and men disciples present. Then the preaching took place in the evening; and at the close the Elder Brethren retired each to his own chamber. But the younger ones with the lay-disciples lay down to rest in the Service-hall. When they fell asleep, loud was the snoring and snorting and gnashing of teeth as they lay. After a short slumber some got up, and reported to the Blessed One the impropriety which they had witnessed. Said he, "If a Brother sleeps in the company of Novices, it is a Pacittiya offence (requiring confession and absolution)." And after delivering this precept he went away to Kosambi.
Thereon the Brethren said to the Reverend Rahula, "Sir, the Blessed One has laid down this precept, and now you will please find quarters of your own." Now, before this, the Brethren, out of respect for the father and because of the anxious desire of the son to observe the rules of the Brotherhood, had welcomed the youth as if the place were his;--they had fitted up a little bed for him, and had given him a cloth to make a pillow with. But on the day of our story they would not even give him house-room, so fearful were they of transgressing. The excellent Rahula went neither to the Buddha as being his father, nor to Sariputta, Captain of the Faith, as being his preceptor, nor to the Great Moggallana as being his teacher, nor to the Elder Ananda as being his uncle; but betook himself to the Buddha's jakes and took up his abode there as though in a heavenly mansion. Now in a Buddha's jakes the door is always closely shut: the levelled floor is of perfumed earth; flowers and garlands are festooned round the walls; and all night long a lamp burns there. But it was not this splendour which prompted Rahula to take up his residence here. Nay, it was simply because the Brethren had told him to find quarters for himself, and because he reverenced instruction and yearned to observe the rules of the Order. Indeed, from time to time the Brethren, to test him, when they saw him coming from quite a distance, used to throw down a hand-broom or a little dust-sweepings, and then ask who had thrown it down, after Rahula had come in. "Well, Rahula came that way," would be the remark, but never did the future Elder say he knew nothing about it. On the contrary, he used to remove the litter and humbly ask pardon of the Brother, nor go away till he was assured that he was pardoned;--so anxious was he to observe the rules. And it was solely this anxiety which made him take up his dwelling in the jakes.
Now, though day had not yet dawned, the Master halted at the door of the jakes and coughed 'Ahem.' 'Ahem,' responded the Reverend Rahula. "Who is there?" said the Buddha. "It is I, Rahula," was the reply; and out came the young man and bowed low. "Why have you been sleeping here, Rahula?" "Because I had nowhere to go to. Up till now, sir, the Brethren have been very kind to me; but such is their present fear of erring that they won't give me shelter any more. Consequently, I took up my abode here, because I thought it a spot where I should not come into contact with anybody else."
Then thought the Master to himself, "If they treat even Rahula like this, what will they not do to other youths whom they admit to the Order?" And his heart was moved within him for the Truth. So, at an early hour he had the Brethren assembled, and questioned the Captain of the Faith thus, "I suppose you at all events, Sariputta, know where Rahula is now quartered? '
"No, sir, I do not."
"Sariputta, Rahula was living this day in the jakes. Sariputta, if you treat Rahula like this, what will not be your treatment of other youths whom you admit to the Order? Such treatment will not retain those who join us. In future, keep your Novices in your own quarters for a day or two, and only on the third day let them lodge out, taking care to acquaint yourself with their lodging." With this rider, the Master laid down the precept.
Gathering together in the Hall of Truth, the Brethren spoke of the goodness of Rahula. "See, sirs, how anxious was Rahula to observe the rules. When told to find his own lodging, he did not say, 'I am the son of the Buddha; what have you to do with quarters? You turn out!' No; not a single Brother did he oust, but quartered himself in the jakes."
As they were talking thus, the Master came to the Hall and took his seat on his throne of state, saying, "What is the subject of your talk, Brethren?" "Sir," was the reply, "we were talking of the anxiety of Rahula to keep the rules, nothing else."
Then said the Master, "This anxiety Rahula has shewn not only now, but also in the past, when he had been born an animal." And so saying, he told this story of the past.
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Once on a time a certain king of Magadha was reigning in Rajagaha; and in those days the Bodhisatta, having been born a stag, was living in the forest at the head of a herd of deer. Now his sister brought her son to him, saying, "Brother, teach your nephew here the ruses of deer." "Certainly," said the Bodhisatta; "go away now, my boy, and come back at such and such a time to be taught." Punctually at the time his uncle mentioned, the young stag was there and. received instruction in the ruses of deer.
One day as he was ranging the woods he was caught in a snare and uttered the plaintive cry of a captive. Away fled the herd and told the mother of her son's capture. She came to her brother and asked him whether his nephew had been taught the ruses of deer. "Fear not; your son is not at fault," said the Bodhisatta. "He has learnt thoroughly deer's ruses, and will come back straightway to your great rejoicing." And so saying, he repeated this stanza:--
In all three postures--on his back or sides
Your son is versed; he's trained to use eight hoofs,
And save at midnight never slakes his thirst;
As he lies couched on earth, he lifeless seems,
And only with his under-nostril breathes.
Six tricks my nephew knows to cheat his foes.
Thus did the Bodhisatta console his sister by shewing her how thoroughly her son had mastered the ruses of deer. Meantime the young stag on being caught in the snare did not struggle, but lay down at full length on his side, with his legs stretched out taut and rigid. He pawed up the ground round his hoofs so as to shower the grass and earth about; relieved nature; let his head fall; lolled out his tongue; beslavered his body all over; swelled himself out by drawing in the wind; turned up his eyes; breathed only with the lower nostril, holding his breath with the upper one; and made himself generally so rigid and so stiff as to look like a corpse. Even the blue-bottles swarmed round him; and here and there crows settled.
The hunter came up and smacked the stag on the belly with his hand, remarking, "He must have been caught early this morning; he's going bad already." So saying, the man loosed the stag from his bonds, saying to himself, "I'll cut him up here where he lies, and take the flesh home with me." But as the man guilelessly set to work to gather sticks and leaves (to make a fire with), the young stag rose to his feet, shook himself, stretched out his neck, and, like a little cloud scudding before a mighty wind, sped swiftly back to his mother.
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After repeating what he had said as to Rahula's having shewn no less anxiety in time past to keep rules than in the present, the Master made the connexion and identified the Birth by saying, "Rahula was the young stag of those days, Uppala-vanna his mother, and I the stag his uncle."
KHARADIYA-JATAKA.
KHARADIYA-JATAKA.
"For when a deer."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana about an unruly Brother. Tradition says that this Brother was disobedient and would not pay attention to scolding. Accordingly, the Master asked him, saying, "Is it true, as they say, that you are unruly and will not heed admonition?"
"It is true, Blessed One," was the reply.
"So too in bygone days," said the Master, "you were unruly and would not heed the admonition of the wise and good,--with the result that you were caught in a gin and met your death." And so saying, he told this story of the past.
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Once on a time when Brahmadatta was in Benares the Bodhisatta was born a deer and dwelt in the forest at the head of a herd of deer. His sister brought her son to him, saying, "Brother, this is your nephew; teach him deer's ruses." And thus she placed her son under the Bodhisatta's care. Said the latter to his nephew, "Come at such and such a time and I will give you a lesson." But the nephew made no appearance at the time appointed. And, as on that day, so on seven days did he skip his lesson and fail to learn the ruses of deer; and at last, as he was roaming about, he was caught in a gin. His mother came and said to the Bodhisatta, "Brother was not your nephew taught deer's ruses?"
"Take no thought for the unteachable rascal," said the Bodhisatta; "your son failed to learn the ruses of deer." And so saying, having lost all desire to advise the scapegrace even in his deadly peril, he repeated this stanza:
For when a deer has twice four hoofs to run
And branching antlers armed with countless tines,
And when by seven tricks he's saved himself,
I teach him then, Kharadiya, no more.
But the hunter killed the self-willed deer that was caught in the snare, and departed with its flesh.
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When the Master had ended this lesson in support of what he had said as to the unruliness of the Brother in bygone days as well as in the present, he showed the connection, and identified the Birth, by saying "In those days this unruly Brother was the nephew-deer, Uppala-vanna was the sister, and I myself the deer who gave the admonition."
VATAMIGA-JATAKA.
VATAMIGA-JATAKA.
About a fortnight after admitting this young man, the Master repaired from the Bamboo-grove to Jetavana, where the young nobleman undertook the Thirteen Obligations (These are meritorious ascetic practices for quelling the passions, of which the third is an undertaking to eat no food except alms received direct from the giver in the Brother's alms-bowl. Hence "ticket-food" was inadmissible.) and passed his time in going his round for alms from house to house, omitting none. Under the name of the Elder Tissa Direct-alms the Less, he became as bright and shining a light in Buddhism as the moon in the vault of heaven.
A festival having been proclaimed at this time at Rajagaha, the Elder's mother and father laid in a silver casket the trinkets he used to wear as a-layman, and took it to heart, bewailing thus,--"At other festivals our son used to wear this or that bravery as he kept the festival; and he, our only son, has been taken away by the sage Gotama to the town of Savatthi. Where is our son sitting now or standing?" Now a slave-girl who came to the house, noticed the lady of the house weeping, and asked her why she was weeping; and the lady told her all.
"What, madam, was your son fond of?" "Of such and such a thing," replied the lady. "Well, if you will give me authority in this house, I'll fetch your son back." "Very good," said the lady in assent, and gave the girl her expenses and despatched her with a large following, saying, "Go, and manage to fetch my son back."
So away the girl rode in a palanquin to Savatthi, where she took up her residence in the street which the Elder used to frequent for alms. Surrounding herself with servants of her own, and never allowing the Elder to see his father's people about, she watched the moment when the Elder entered the street and at once bestowed on him an alms of victual and drink. And when she had bound him in the bonds of the craving of taste, she got him eventually to seat himself in the house, till she knew that her gifts of food as alms had put him in her power. Then she feigned sickness and lay down in an inner chamber.
In the due course of his round for alms at the proper time, the Elder came to the door of her house; and her people took the Elder's bowl and made him sit down in the house.
When he had seated himself, he said, "Where is the lay-sister?" "She's ill, sir; she would be glad to see you."
Bound as he was by the bonds of the craving of taste, he broke his vow and obligation, and went to where the woman was lying.
Then she told him the reason of her coming, and so wrought on him that, all because of his being hound by the bonds of the craving of taste, she made him forsake the Brotherhood; when he was in her power, she put him in the palanquin and came back with a large following to Rajagaha again.
All this was noised abroad. Sitting in the Hall of Truth, the Brethren discussed the matter, saying, "Sirs, it is reported that a slave-girl has bound in the bonds of the craving of taste, and has carried off, the Elder Tissa the Less, called Direct-alms." Entering the Hall the Master sat down on his jewelled seat, and said, "What, Brethren, is the subject of discussion in this conclave?" They told him the incident.
"Brethren," said he, "this is not the first time that, in bondage to the craving of taste, he has fallen into her power; in bygone days too he fell into her power in like manner." And so saying, he told this story of the past.
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares he had a gardener named Sanjaya. Now there came into the king's pleasaunce a Wind-antelope, which fled away at the sight of Sanjaya, but the latter let it go without terrifying the timid creature. After several visits the antelope used to roam about in the pleasaunce. Now the gardener was in the habit of gathering flowers and fruits and taking them day by day to the king. Said the king to him one day, "Have you noticed anything strange, friend gardener, in the pleasaunce?" "Only, sir, that a Wind-antelope has come about the grounds." "Could you catch it, do you think?" "Oh, yes; if I had a little honey, I'd bring it right into your majesty's palace."
The king ordered the honey to be given to the man and he went off with it to the pleasaunce, where he first anointed with the honey the grass at the spots frequented by the antelope and then hid himself. When the antelope came and tasted the honied grass it was so snared by the lust of taste that it would go nowhere else but only to the pleasaunce. Marking the success of his snare, the gardener began gradually to show himself. The appearance of the man made the antelope take to flight for the first day or two, but growing familiar with the sight of him, it gathered confidence and gradually came to eat grass from the man's hand. He, noting that the creature's confidence had been won, first strewed the path as thick as a carpet with broken boughs; then tying a gourd full of honey on his shoulder and sticking a bunch of grass in his waist-cloth, he kept dropping wisps of the honied grass in front of the antelope till at last he got it right inside the palace. No sooner was the antelope inside than they shut the door. At sight of men the antelope, in fear and trembling for its life, dashed to and fro about the hall; and the king coming down from his chamber above, and seeing the trembling creature, said, "So timid is the Wind-antelope that for a whole week it will not revisit a spot where it has so much as seen a man; and if it has once been frightened anywhere, it never goes back there again all its life long. Yet, ensnared by the lust of taste, this wild thing from the jungle has actually come to a place like this. Truly, my friends, there is nothing viler in the world than this lust of taste." And he put his teaching into this stanza:--
There's nothing worse, men say, than taste to snare,
At borne or with one's friends. Lo! taste it was
That unto Sanjaya deliver'd up
The jungle-haunting antelope so wild.
And with these words he let the antelope go back to its forest again.
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When the Master had ended his lesson, and had repeated what he had said as to that Brother's having fallen into that woman's power in bygone days as well as in the present time, he shewed the connexion and identified the Birth, by saying, "In those days this slave-girl was Sanjaya, Direct-alms the Less was the wind-antelope, and I myself was the King of Benares."
KANDINA-JATAKA.
KANDINA-JATAKA.
"Cursed be the dart of love."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana about the temptation caused to Brethren by the wives of their mundane life. Said the Blessed One to the Brother, "Brother, it was because of this very woman that in bygone days you met your death and were roasted over glowing embers." The Brethren asked the Blessed One to explain this. The Blessed One made clear what had been concealed from them by re-birth.
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Once on a time in the kingdom of Magadha the king was reigning in Rajagaha, and when the crops were grown the deer were exposed to great perils, so that they retired to the forest. Now a certain mountain-stag of the forest, having become attached to a doe who came from near a village, was moved by his love for her to accompany her when the deer returned home from the forest. Said she, "You, sir, are but a simple stag of the forest, and the neighbourhood of villages is beset with peril and danger. So don't come down with us." But he because of his great love for her would not stay, but came with her.
When they knew that it was the time for the deer to cone down from the hills, the Magadha folk posted themselves in ambush by the road; and a hunter was lying in wait just by the road along which the pair were travelling. Scenting a man, the young doe suspected that a hunter was in ambush, and let the stag go on first, following herself at some distance. With a single arrow the hunter laid the stag low, and the doe seeing him struck was off like the wind. Then that hunter came forth from his hiding place and skinned the stag and lighting a fire cooked the sweet flesh over the embers. Having eaten and drunk, he took off home the remainder of the bleeding carcass on his carrying-pole to regale his children.
Now in those clays the Bodhisatta was a fairy dwelling in that very grove of trees, and he marked what had come to pass. "'That was not father or mother, but passion alone that destroyed this foolish deer. The dawn of passion is bliss, but its end is sorrow and suffering,--the painful loss of hands, and the misery of the five forms of bonds and blows. To cause another's death is accounted infamy in this world; infamous too is the land which owns a woman's sway and rule; and infamous are the men who yield themselves to women's dominion." And therewithal, while the other fairies of the wood applauded and offered perfumes and flowers and the like in homage, the Bodhisatta wove the three infamies into a single stanza, and made the wood re-echo with his sweet tones as he taught the truth in these lines:
Cursed be the dart of love that works men pain!
Cursed be the land where women rule supreme!
And cursed the fool that bows to woman's sway!
Thus in a single stanza were the three infamies comprised by the Bodhisatta, and the woods re-echoed as he taught the Truth with all the mastery and grace of a Buddha.
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His lesson ended, the Master preached the Four Truths, at the close whereof the love-sick Brother was established in the Fruit of the First Path. Having told the two stories, the Master shewed the connexion linking the two together, and identified the Birth.
"In those days," said the Master, "the love-sick Brother was the mountain-stag; his mundane wife was the young doe, and I was myself the fairy who preached the Truth shewing the sin of passion."
NIGRODHAMIGA-JATAKA.
NIGRODHAMIGA-JATAKA.
"Keep only with the Banyan Deer."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana about the mother of the Elder named Prince Kassapa. The daughter, we learn, of a wealthy merchant of Rajagaha was deeply rooted in goodness and scorned all temporal things; she had reached her final existence, and within her breast, like a lamp in a pitcher, glowed her sure hope of winning Arahatship. As soon as she reached knowledge of herself, she took no joy in a worldly life but yearned to renounce the world. With this aim, she said to her mother and father, "My dear parents, my heart takes no joy in a worldly life; fain would I embrace the saving doctrine of the Buddha. Suffer me to take the vows."
"What, my dear? Ours is a very wealthy family, and you are our only daughter. You cannot take the vows."
Having failed to win her parents' consent, though she asked them again and again, she thought to herself, "Be it so then; when I am married into another family, I will gain my husband's consent and take the vows." And when, being grown up, she entered another family, she proved a devoted wife and lived a life of goodness and virtue in her new home. Now it came to pass that she conceived, though she knew it not.
There was a festival proclaimed in that city and everybody kept holiday, the city being decked like a city of the gods. But she, even at the height of the festival, neither anointed herself nor put on any finery, going about in her every-day attire. So her husband said to her, "My dear wife, everybody is holiday-making; but you do not put on your bravery."
"My lord and master," she replied, "The body is filled with two-and-thirty component .parts. Wherefore should it be adorned? This bodily frame is not of angelic or archangelic mould; it is not made of gold, jewels, or yellow sandal-wood; it takes not its birth from the womb of lotus-flowers, white or red or blue; it is not filled with any immortal balsam. Nay, it is bred of corruption, and born of mortal parents; the qualities that mark it are the wearing and wasting away, the decay and destruction of the merely transient; it is fated to swell a graveyard, and is devoted to lusts; it is the source of sorrow, and the occasion of lamentation; it is the abode of all diseases, and the repository of the workings of Karma. Foul within,--it is always excreting. Yea, as all the world can see, its end is death, passing to the charnel-house, there to be the dwelling-place of worms . What should I achieve, my bridegroom, by tricking out this body? Would not its adornment be like decorating the outside of a close-stool?"
"My dear wife," rejoined the young merchant, "if you regard this body as so sinful, why don't you become a Sister?"
"If I am accepted, my husband, I will take the vows this very day." "Very good," said he, "I will get you admitted to the Order." And after he had shewn lavish bounty and hospitality to the Order, he escorted her with a large following to the nunnery and had her admitted a Sister,--but of the following of Devadatta. Great was her joy at the fulfilment of her desire to become a Sister.
As her time drew near, the Sisters, noticing the change in her person, the swelling in her hands and feet and her increased size, said, "Lady, you seem about to become a mother; what does it mean?"
"I cannot tell, ladies; I only know I have led a virtuous life."
So the Sisters brought her before Devadatta, saying, "Lord, this young gentle-woman, who was admitted a Sister with the reluctant consent of her husband, has now proved to be with child; but whether this dates from before her admission to the Order or not, we cannot say. What are we to do now?"
Not being a Buddha, and not having any charity, love or pity, Devadatta thought thus: "It will be a damaging report to get abroad that one of my Sisters is with child, and that I condone the offence. My course is clear;--I must expel this woman from the Order." Without any enquiry, starting forward as if to thrust aside a mass of stone, he said, "Away, and expel this woman!"
Receiving this answer, they arose and with reverent salutation withdrew to their own nunnery. But the girl said to those Sisters, "Ladies, Devadatta the Elder is not the Buddha. My vows were taken not under Devadatta, but under the Buddha, the Foremost of the world. Rob me not of the vocation I won so hardly; but take me before the Master at Jetavana." So they set out with her for Jetavana, and journeying over the forty-five leagues thither from Rajagaha, came in due course to their destination, where with reverent salutation to the Master, they laid the matter before him.
Thought the Master, "Albeit the child was conceived while she was still of the laity, yet it will give the heretics an occasion to say that the ascetic Gotama has taken a Sister expelled by Devadatta. Therefore, to cut short such talk, this case must be heard in the presence of the king and his court." So on the morrow he sent for Pasenadi king of Kosala, the elder and the younger Anatha-pindika, the lady Visakha the great lay-disciple, and other well-known personages; and in the evening when the four classes of the faithful were all assembled--Brothers, Sisters, and lay-disciples, both male and female--he said to the Elder Upali, "Go, and clear up this matter of the young Sister in the presence of the four classes of my disciples."
"It shall be done, reverend sir," said the Elder, and forth to the assembly he went and there, seating himself in his place, he called up Visakha the lay-disciple in sight of the king, and placed the conduct of the enquiry in her hands, saying, "First ascertain the precise day of the precise month on which this girl joined the Order, Visakha; and thence compute whether she conceived before or since that date." Accordingly the lady had a curtain put up as a screen, behind which she retired with the girl. Spectatis manibus, pedibus, umbilico, ipso ventre puellae, the lady found, on comparing the days and months, that the conception had taken place before the girl had become a Sister. This she reported to the Elder, who proclaimed the Sister innocent before all the assembly. And she, now that her innocence was established, reverently saluted the Order and the Mater, and with the Sisters returned to her own nunnery.
When her time was come, she bore the son strong in spirit, for whom she had prayed at the feet of the Buddha Padumuttara ages ago. One day, when the king was passing by the nunnery, he heard the cry of an infant and asked his courtiers what it meant. They, knowing the facts, told his majesty that the cry came from the child to which the young Sister had given birth. "Sirs," said the king, "the care of children is a clog on Sisters in their religious life; let us take charge of him." So the infant was handed over by the king's command to the ladies of his family, and brought up as a prince. When the day came for him to be named, he was called Kassapa, but was known as Prince Kassapa because he was brought up like a prince.
At the age of seven he was admitted a novice under the Master, and a full Brother when he was old enough. As time went on, he waxed famous among the expounders of the Truth. So the Master gave him precedence, saying, "Brethren, the first in eloquence among my disciples is Prince Kassapa." Afterwards, by virtue of the Vammika Sutta, he won Arahatship. So too his mother, the Sister, grew to clear vision and won the Supreme Fruit. Prince Kassapa the Elder shone in the faith of the Buddha even as the full-moon in the mid-heaven. Now one day in the afternoon when the Tathagata on return from his alms-round had addressed the Brethren, he passed into his perfumed chamber. At the close of his address the Brethren spent the daytime either in their night-quarters or in their day-quarters till it was evening, when they assembled in the hall of Truth and spoke as follows: "Brethren, Devadatta, because he was not a Buddha and because he had no charity, love or pity, was nigh being the ruin of the Elder Prince Kassapa and his reverend mother. But the All-enlightened Buddha, being the Lord of Truth and being perfect in charity, love and pity, has proved their salvation." And as they sat there telling the praises of the Buddha, he entered the hall with all the grace of a Buddha, and asked, as he took his. seat, what they were talking of as they sat together.
"Of your own virtues, sir," said they, and told him all.
"This is not the first time, Brethren," said he, "that the Tathagata has proved the salvation and refuge of these two: he was the same to them in the past also."
Then, on the Brethren asking him to explain this to them, he revealed what re-birth had hidden from them.
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Once on a time, when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born a deer. At his birth he was golden of hue; his eyes were like round jewels; the sheen of his horns was as of, silver; his mouth was red as a bunch of scarlet cloth; his four hoofs were as though lacquered; his tail was like the yak's; and he was as big as a young foal. Attended by five hundred deer, he dwelt in the forest under the name of King Banyan Deer. And hard by him dwelt another deer also with an attendant herd of five hundred deer, who was named Branch Deer, and was as golden of hue as the Bodhisatta.
In those days the king of Benares was passionately fond of hunting, and always had meat at every meal. Every day he mustered the whole of his subjects, townsfolk and countryfolk alike, to the detriment of their business, and went hunting. Thought his people, "This king of ours stops all our work. Suppose we were to sow food and supply water for the deer in his own pleasaunce, and, having driven in a number of deer, to bar them in and deliver them over to the king!" So they sowed in the pleasaunce grass for the deer to eat and supplied water for them to drink, and opened the gate wide. Then they called out the townsfolk and set out into the forest armed with sticks and all manner of weapons to find the deer. They surrounded about a league of forest in order to catch the deer within their circle, and in so doing surrounded the haunt of the Banyan and Branch deer. As soon as they perceived the deer, they proceeded to beat the trees, bushes and ground with their sticks till they drove the herds out of their lairs; then they rattled their swords and spears and bows with so great a din that they drove all the deer into the pleasaunce, and shut the gate. Then they went to the king and said, "Sire, you put a stop to our work by always going a-hunting; so we have driven deer enough from the forest to fill your pleasaunce. Henceforth feed on them."
Hereupon the king betook himself to the pleasaunce, and in looking over the herd saw among them two golden deer, to whom he granted immunity. Sometimes he would go of his own accord and shoot a deer to bring home; sometimes his cook would go and shoot one. At first sight of the bow, the deer would dash off trembling for their lives, but after receiving two or three wounds they grew weary and faint and were slain. The herd of deer told this to the Bodhisatta, who sent for Branch and said, "Friend, the deer are being destroyed in great numbers; and, though they cannot escape death, at least let them not be needlessly wounded. Let the deer go to the block by turns, one day one from my herd, and next day one from yours,--the deer on whom the lot falls to go to the place of execution and lie down with its head on the block. In this wise the deer will escape wounding." The other agreed; and thenceforth the deer whose turn it was, used to go and lie down with its neck ready on the block. The cook used to go and carry off only the victim which awaited him.
Now one day the lot fell on a pregnant doe of the herd of Branch, and she went to Branch and said, "Lord, I am with young. When I have brought forth my little one, there will be two of us to take our turn. Order me to be passed over this turn." "No, I cannot make your turn, another's," said he; "you must bear the consequences of your own fortune. Begone!" Finding no favour with him, the doe went on to the Bodhisatta and told him her story. And he answered, "Very well; you go away, and I will see that the turn passes over you." And therewithal he went himself to the place of execution and lay down with his head on the block, Cried the cook on seeing him, "Why here's the king of the deer who was granted immunity! What does this mean?" And off he ran to tell the king. The moment he heard of it, the king mounted his chariot and arrived with a large following. "My friend the king of the deer," he said on beholding the Bodhisatta, "did I not promise you your life? How comes it that you are lying here?
"Sire, there came to me a doe big with young, who prayed me to let her turn fall on another; and, as I could not pass the doom of one on to another, I, laying down my life for her and taking her doom on myself, have laid me down here. Think not that there is anything behind this, your majesty."
"My lord the golden king of the deer," said the king, "never yet saw I, even among men, one so abounding in charity, love and pity as you. Therefore am I pleased with you. Arise! I spare the lives both of you and of her."
"Though two be spared, what shall the rest do, O king of men?" "I spare their lives too, my lord." "Sire, only the deer in your pleasaunce will thus have gained immunity; what shall all the rest do?" "Their lives too I spare, my lord." "Sire, deer will thus be safe; but what will the rest of four-footed creatures do?". "I spare their lives too, my lord." "Sire, four-footed creatures will thus be safe; but what will the flocks of birds do?" "They too shall be spared, my lord." "Sire, birds will thus be safe; but what will the fishes do, who live in the water?" "I spare their lives also, my lord."
After thus interceding with the king for the lives of all creatures, the Great Being arose, established the king in the Five Commandments, saying, "Walk in righteousness, great king. Walk in righteousness and justice towards parents, children, townsmen, and countryfolk, so that when this earthly body is dissolved, you may enter the bliss of heaven." Thus, with the grace and charm that marks a Buddha, did he teach the Truth to the king. A few days he tarried in the pleasaunce for the king's instruction, and then with his attendant herd he passed into the forest again.
And that doe brought forth a fawn fair as the opening bud of the lotus, who used to play about with the Branch deer. Seeing this his mother said to him, "My child, don't go about with him, only go about with the herd of the Banyan deer." And by way of exhortation, she repeated this stanza:
Keep only with the Banyan deer, and shun
The Branch deer's herd; more welcome far
Is death, my child, in Banyan's company,
Than e'en the amplest term of life with Branch.
Thenceforth, the deer, now in the enjoyment of immunity, used to eat men's crops, and the men, remembering the immunity granted to them, did not dare to hit the deer or drive them away. So they assembled in the king's courtyard and laid the matter before the king. Said he, "When the Banyan deer won my favour, I promised him a boon. I will forego my kingdom rather than my promise. Begone! Not a man in my kingdom may harm the deer."
But when this came to the ears of the Banyan deer, he called his herd together and said, "Henceforth you shall not eat the crops of others." And having thus forbidden them, he sent a message to the men, saying, "From this day forward, let no husbandman fence his field, but merely indicate it with leaves tied up round it." And so, we hear, began a plan of tying up leaves to indicate the fields; and never was a deer known to trespass on a field so marked. For thus they had been instructed by the Bodhisatta.
Thus did the Bodhisatta exhort the deer of his herd, and thus did he act all his life long, and at the close of a long life passed away with them to fare according to his deserts. The king too abode by the Bodhisatta's teachings, and after a life spent in good works passed away to fare according to his deserts.
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At the close of this lesson, when the Master had repeated that, as now, so in bygone days also he had been the salvation of the pair, he preached the Four Truths. He then shewed the connexion, linking together the two stories he had told, and identified the Birth by saying,--"Devadatta was the Branch Deer of those days, and his followers were that deer's herd; the nun was the doe, and Prince Kassapa was her offspring; Ananda was the king; and I myself was King Banyan Deer."
LAKKHANA-JATAKA.
LAKKHANA-JATAKA.
"The upright man."--This story was told by the Master in the Bamboo-grove near Rajagaha about Devadatta.
For, on the occasion now in question, Devadatta, through failing to carry the Five Points which he had pressed for, had made a schism in the Brotherhood and had gone off with five hundred Brethren to dwell at Gaya-sisa. Now, these Brethren came to a riper knowledge; and the Master, knowing this, called the two chief disciples and said, "Sariputta, your five hundred pupils who were perverted by Devadatta's teaching and went off with him, have now come to a riper knowledge. Go thither with a number of the Brethren, preach the Truth to them, enlighten these wanderers respecting the Paths and the Fruits, and bring them back with you."
They went thither, preached the Truth, enlightened them respecting the Paths and the Fruits, and next day at dawn came back again with those Brethren to the Bamboo-grove. And whilst Sariputta was standing there after saluting the Blessed One on his return, the Brethren spoke thus to him in praise of the Elder Sariputta, "Sir, very bright was the glory of our elder brother, the Captain of the Truth, as he returned with a following of five hundred Brethren; whereas Devadatta has lost all his following."
"This is not the only time, Brethren, when glory has been Sariputta's on his return with a following of his kinsfolk; like glory was his too in bygone days. So too this is not the only time when Devadatta has lost his following; he lost it also in bygone days."
The Brethren asked the Blessed One to explain this to them. The Blessed One made clear what had been concealed by re-birth.
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Once on a time in the city of Rajagaha in the kingdom of Magadha there ruled a certain king of Magadha, in whose days the Bodhisatta came to life as a stag. Growing up, he dwelt in the forest as the leader of a herd of a thousand deer. He had two young ones named Luckie and Blackie. When he grew old, he handed his charge over to his two sons, placing five hundred deer under the care of each of them. And so now these two young stags were in charge of the herd.
Towards harvest-time in Magadha, when the crops stand thick in the fields, it is dangerous for the deer in the forests round. Anxious to kill the creatures that devour their crops, the peasants dig pitfalls, fix stakes, set stone-traps, and plant snares and other gins; so that many deer are slain.
Accordingly, when the Bodhisatta marked that it was crop-time, he sent for his two sons and said to them, "My children, it is now the time when crops stand thick in the fields, and many deer meet their death at this season. We who are old will make shift to stay in one spot; but you will retire each with your herd to the mountainous tracts in the forest and come back when the crops have been carried." "Very good," said his two sons, and departed with their herds, as their father bade.
Now the men who live along the route, know quite well the times at which deer take to the hills and return thence. And lying in wait in hiding-places here and there along the route, they shoot and kill numbers of them. The dullard Blackie, ignorant of the times to travel and the times to halt, kept his deer on the march early and late, both at dawn and in the gloaming, approaching the very confines of the villages. And the peasants, in ambush or in the open, destroyed numbers of his herd. Having thus by his crass folly worked the destruction of all these, it was with a very few survivors that he reached the forest.
Luckie on the other hand, being wise and astute and full of resource, never so much as approached the confines of a village. He did not travel by day, or even in the dawn or gloaming. Only in the dead of night did he move; and the result was that he reached the forest without losing a single head of his deer.
Four months they stayed in the forest, not leaving the hills till the crops were carried. On the homeward way Blackie by repeating his former folly lost the rest of his herd and returned solitary and alone; whereas Luckie had not lost one of his herd, but had brought back the whole five hundred deer, when he appeared before his parents. As he saw his two sons returning, the Bodhisatta framed this stanza in concert with the herd of deer:--
The upright kindly man bath his reward.
Mark Luckie leading back his troop of kin,
While here comes Blackie shorn of all his herd.
Such was the Bodhisatta's welcome to his son; and after living to a good old age, he passed away to fare according to his deserts.
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At the close of his lesson, when the Master had repeated that Sariputta's glory and Devadatta's loss had both had a parallel in bygone days, he showed the connexion linking the two stories together and identified the Birth, by saying, "Devadatta was the Blackie of those days; his followers were Blackie's following; Sariputta was the Luckie of those days, and his following the Buddha's followers; Rahula's mother was the mother of those days; and I myself was the father."
The "Five Points" of Devadatta are there given as follows:--"The Brethren shall live all their life long in the forest, subsist solely on doles collected out of doors, dress solely in rags picked out of dust-heaps, dwell under trees and never under a roof, never eat fish or flesh." These five points were all more rigid in their asceticism than the Buddha's rule, and were formulated by Devadatta in order to outbid his cousin and master.
The two chief disciples, of whom only one is named in the text, were Sariputta (surnamed 'the Captain of the Faith') and Moggallana, two Brahmin friends, originally followers of a wandering ascetic, whose conversion to Buddhism is related in the Mahavagga, Unlike this Jataka, the Vinaya account of the re-conversion of the backsliders gives a share of the credit to Moggallana.
SUKHAVIHARI-JATAKA.
SUKHAVIHARI-JATAKA.
"The
man who guards not."--This story was told by the Master while in the
Anupiya Mango-grove near the town of Anupiya, about the Elder Bhaddiya
(the Happy), who joined the Brotherhood in the company of the six young
nobles with whom was Upali. Of these the Elders Bhaddiya, Kimbila,
Bhagu, and Upali attained to Arahatship; the Elder Ananda entered the
First Path; the Elder Anuruddha gained all-seeing vision; and Devadatta
obtained the power of ecstatic self-abstraction.
The
venerable Bhaddiya, who used in the days of his royalty to guard
himself as though he were appointed his own tutelary deity, bethought
him of the state of fear in which he then lived when he was being
guarded by numerous guards and when he used to toss about even on his
royal couch in his private apartments high up in the palace; and with
this he compared the absence of fear in which, now that he was an
Arahat, he roamed hither and thither in forests and desert places. And
at the thought he burst into this heartfelt utterance--"Oh, happiness!
Oh, happiness!"
This the Brethren reported to the Blessed One, saying, "The venerable Bhaddiya is declaring the bliss he has won."
"Brethren,"
said the Blessed One, "this is not the first time that Bhaddiya's life
has been happy; his life was no less happy in bygone days."
The Brethren asked the Blessed One to explain this. The Blessed One made clear what had been concealed from them by re-birth.
_____________________________
Once
on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was
born a wealthy northern brahmin. Realising the evil of lusts and the
blessings that flow from renouncing the world, he abjured lusts, and
retiring to the Himalayas there became a hermit and won the eight
Endowments. His following waxed great, amounting to five hundred
ascetics. Once when the rains set in, he quitted the Himalayas and
travelling along on an alms-pilgrimage with his attendant ascetics
through village and town came at last to Benares, where he took up his
abode in the royal pleasaunce as the pensioner of the king's bounty.
After dwelling here for the four rainy months, he came to the king to
take his leave. But the king said to him, "You are old, reverend sir.
Wherefore should you go back to the Himalayas'? Send your pupils back
thither and stop here yourself."
The
Bodhisatta entrusted his five hundred ascetics to the care of his
oldest disciple, saying, "Go you with these to the Himalayas; I will
stop on here."
Now
that oldest disciple had once been a king, but had given up a mighty
kingdom to become a Brother; by the due performance of the rites
appertaining to concentrated thought he had mastered the eight
Endowments. As he dwelt with the ascetics in the Himalayas, one day a
longing came upon him to see the master, and he said to his fellows,
"Live on contentedly here; I will come back as soon as I have paid my
respects to the master." So away he went to the master, paid his
respects to him, and greeted him lovingly. Then he lay down by the side
of his master on a mat which he spread there.
At
this point appeared the king, who had come to the pleasaunce to see the
ascetic; and with a salutation he took his seat on one side. But though
he was aware of the king's presence, that oldest disciple forbore to
rise, but still lay there, crying with passionate earnestness, "Oh,
happiness! Oh, happiness!"
Displeased
that the ascetic, though he had seen him, had not risen, the king said
to the Bodhisatta, "Reverend sir, this ascetic must have had his fill to
eat, seeing that he continues to lie there so happily, exclaiming with
such earnestness."
"Sire,"
said the Bodhisatta, "of old this ascetic was a king as you are. He is
thinking how in the old days when he was a layman and lived in regal
pomp with many a man-at-arms to guard him, he never knew such happiness
as now is his. It is the happiness of the Brother's life, and the
happiness that Insight brings, which move him to this heartfelt
utterance." And the Bodhisatta further repeated this stanza to teach the
king the Truth:--
The man who guards not, nor is guarded, sire,
Lives happy, freed from slavery to lusts.
Appeased
by the lesson thus taught him, the king made his salutation and
returned to his palace. The disciple also took his leave of his master
and returned to the Himalayas. But the Bodhisatta continued to dwell on
there, and, dying with Insight full and unbroken, was re-born in the
Realm of Brahma.
_____________________________
His
lesson ended, and the two stories told, the Master shewed the connexion
linking them both together, and identified the Birth by saying,--"The
Elder Bhaddiya was the disciple of those days, and I myself the master
of the company of ascetics."
MAKHADEVA-JATAKA.
MAKHADEVA-JATAKA.
Buddha in Abhay Mudra
"Lo! these grey hairs."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana about the Great Renunciation, which has already been related in the Nidana-Katha.
On this occasion the Brethren sat praising the Renunciation of the Lord of Wisdom. Entering the Hall of Truth and seating himself on the Buddha-seat, the Master thus addressed the Brethren:--"What is your theme, Brethren, as you sit here in conclave?"
"It is naught else, sir, than the praise of your own Renunciation." "Brethren," rejoined the Master, "not only in these latter days has the Tathagata made a Renunciation; in bygone days too he similarly renounced the world."
The Brethren asked the Blessed One for an explanation of this. The Blessed One made clear what had been concealed from them by re-birth.
_____________________________
Once on a time in Mithila in the realm of Videha there was a king named Makhadeva, who was righteous and ruled righteously. For successive periods of eighty-four thousand years he had respectively amused himself as prince, ruled as viceroy, and reigned as king. All these long years had he lived, when one day he said to his barber,--"Tell me, friend barber, when you see any grey hairs in my head." So one day, years and years after, the barber did find among the raven locks of the king a single grey hair, and he told the king so. "Pull it out, my friend," said the king; "and lay it in my palm." The barber accordingly plucked the hair out with his golden tongs, and laid it in the king's hand. The king had at that time still eighty-four thousand years more to live; but nevertheless at the sight of that one grey hair he was filled with deep emotion. He seemed to see the King of Death standing over him, or to be cooped within a blazing but of leaves. "Foolish Makhadeva!" he cried; "grey hairs have come upon you before you have been able to rid yourself of depravities." And as he thought and thought about the appearance of his grey hair, he grew aflame within; the sweat rolled down from his body; whilst his raiment oppressed him and seemed intolerable. "This very day," thought he, "will I renounce the world for the Brother's life."
To his barber he gave the grant of a village, which yielded a hundred thousand pieces of money. He sent for his eldest son and said to him, "My son, grey hairs are come upon me, and I am become old. I have had my fill of human joys, and fain would taste the joys divine; the time for my renunciation has come. Take the sovereignty upon yourself; as for me, I will take up my abode in the pleasaunce called Makhadeva's Mango-grove, and there tread the ascetic's path."
As he was thus bent on leading the Brother's life, his ministers drew near and said, "What is the reason, sire, why you adopt the Brother's life?"
Taking the grey hair in his hand, the king repeated this stanza to his ministers:--
Lo, these grey hairs that on my head appear
Are Death's own messengers that come to rob
My life. 'Tis time I turned from worldly things,
And in the hermit's path sought saving peace.
And after these words, he renounced his sovereignty that self-same day and became a recluse. Dwelling in that very Mango-grove of Makhadeva, he there during eighty-four thousand years fostered the Four Perfect States within himself, and, dying with insight full and unbroken, was reborn in the Realm of Brahma. Passing thence, he became a king again in Mithila, under the name of Nimi, and after uniting his scattered family, once more became a hermit in that same Mango-grove, winning the Four Perfect States and passing thence once more to the Realm of Brahma.
_____________________________
After repeating his statement that he had similarly renounced the world in bygone days, the Master at the end of his lesson preached the Four Truths. Some entered the First Path, some the Second, and some the Third. Having told the two stories, the Master shewed the connexion between them and identified the Birth, by saying:--"In those days Ananda was the barber, Rahula the son, and I myself King Makhadeva."
DEVADHAMMA-JATAKA.
"Those only 'godlike' call."--This story was told by the Blessed One while at Jetavana, about a wealthy Brother.
Tradition
tells us that, on the death of his wife, a squire of Savatthi joined
the Brotherhood. When he was joining, he caused to be built for himself a
chamber to live in, a room for the fire, and a store-room; and not till
he had stocked his store-room with ghee, rice, and the like, did he
finally join. Even after he had become a brother, he used to send for
his servants and make them cook him what he liked to eat. He was richly
provided with the requisites--having an entire change of clothing for
night and another for day; and he dwelt aloof on the outskirts of the
monastery.
One
day when he had taken out his cloths and bedding and had spread them
out to dry in his chamber, a number of Brethren from the country, who
were on a pilgrimage from monastery to monastery, came in their
journeying to his cell and found all these belongings.
"Whose
are these?" they asked. "Mine, sirs," he replied. "What, sir?" they
cried; "this upper-cloth and that as well; this under-cloth as well as
that; and that bedding too, is it all yours?" "Yes, nobody's but mine."
"Sir," said they, "the Blessed One has only sanctioned three cloths; and
yet, though the Buddha, to whose doctrine you have devoted yourself, is
so simple in his wants, you forsooth have amassed all this stock of
requisites. Come! we must take you before the Lord of Wisdom." And, so
saying, they went off with him to the Master.
Becoming
aware of their presence, the Master said, "Wherefore is it, Brethren,
that you have brought the Brother against his will?" "Sir, this Brother
is well-off and has quite a stock of requisites." "Is it true, Brother,
as they say, that you are so well-off?" "Yes, Blessed One." "But why,
Brother, have you amassed these belongings? Do not I extol the virtues
of wanting little, contentment, and so forth, solitude, and determined
resolve?"
Angered
by the Master's words, he cried,--"Then I'll go about like this!" And,
flinging off his outer clothing, he stood in their midst clad only in
his waist-cloth.
Then,
as a moral support to him, the Master said, "Was it not you, Brother,
who in bygone days were a seeker after the shamefacedness that fears to
sin, and even when you were a water-demon lived for twelve years seeking
after that shamefacedness? How then comes it that, after vowing to
follow the weighty doctrine of the Buddha, you have flung off your outer
robes and stand here devoid of shame?"
At
the Master's word, his sense of shame was restored; he donned his robes
again, and, saluting the Master, seated himself at the side.
The
Brethren having asked the Blessed One to explain to them the matter he
had mentioned, the Blessed One made clear what had been concealed from
them by re-birth.
_____________________________
Once on a time Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares
in Kasi. The Bodhisatta, having come to birth in those days as the
king's son by the queen, was duly named Prince Mahimsasa. By the time he
could run about, a second son was born to the king, and the name they
gave this child was Prince Moon; but by the time he could run about, the
Bodhisatta's mother died. Then the king took another queen, who was his
joy and delight; and their love was crowned with the birth of yet
another prince, whom they named Prince Sun. In his joy at the birth of
the boy, the king promised to grant her any boon she might ask on the
child's behalf. But the queen treasured up the promise to be fulfilled
at her own good time hereafter. Later, when her son had grown up, she
said to the king, "Sire, when my boy was born, you granted me a boon to
ask for him. Let him be king."
"Nay,"
said the king; "two sons have I, radiant as flaming fires; I cannot
give the kingdom to your son." But when he saw that, undaunted by this
refusal, the queen kept plaguing him time after time, to grant her
request, the king, fearing lest the woman should plot evil against his
sons, sent for them and said, "My children, when Prince Sun was born, I
granted a boon; and now his mother wants the kingdom for him. I have no
wish to give him the kingdom; but women are naturally wicked, and she
will be plotting evil against you. You had better retire to the forest,
to return at my death to rule in the city which belongs by right to our
house." So saying, with tears and lamentations, the king kissed his two
sons on the head and sent them forth.
As
the princes were leaving the palace after their adieux to their father,
who should see them but Prince Sun himself, who was playing in the
courtyard? And no sooner did he learn what was the matter than he made
up his mind to go with his brothers. So he too went off in their
company.
The
three came to the region of the Himalayas; and here the Bodhisatta, who
had turned aside from the road and was sitting at the foot of a tree,
said to Prince Sun, "Run down to the pool yonder, Sun dear; drink and
bathe there; and then bring us too some water back in a lotus-leaf."
(Now
that pool had been delivered over to a certain water-sprite by
Vessavana, who said to him, "With the exception of such as know what is
truly god-like, all that go down into this pool are yours to devour.
Over those that do not enter the waters, you have no power granted to
you." And thenceforth the water-sprite used to ask all who went down
into the pool what was truly godlike, devouring everyone who did not
know.)
Now
it was into this pool that Prince Sun went down, quite unsuspicious,
with the result that he was seized by the water-sprite, who said to him,
"Do you know what is truly godlike?" "O yes," said he; "the sun and
moon." "You don't know," said the monster, and hauling the prince down
into the depths of the water, imprisoned him there in his own abode.
Finding that his brother was a long time gone, the Bodhisatta sent
Prince Moon. He too was seized by the water-sprite and asked whether he
knew what was truly godlike. "Oh yes, I know," said he; "the four.
quarters of heaven are." "You don't know," said the water-sprite as he
hauled this second victim off to the same prison-house.
Finding
that this second brother too tarried long, the Bodhisatta felt sure
that something had happened to them. So away he went after them and
tracked their footsteps down into the water. Realising at once that
the pool must be the domain of a water-sprite, he girded on his sword,
and took his bow in his hand, and waited. Now when the demon found that
the Bodhisatta had no intention of entering the water, he assumed the
shape of a forester, and in this guise addressed the Bodhisatta thus:
"You're tired with your journey, mate; why don't you go in and have a
bathe and a drink, and deck yourself with lotuses? You would travel on
comfortably afterwards." Recognising him at once for a demon, the
Bodhisatta said, "It is you who have seized my brothers." "Yes, it was,"
was the reply. "Why?" Because all who go down into this pool belong to
me." "What, all?" "Not those who know what is truly godlike; all save
these are mine." "And do you want to know the godlike?" "I do." "If this
be so, I will tell you what is truly godlike." "Do so, and I will
listen."
"I
should like to begin," said the Bodhisatta, "but I am travel-stained
with my journey." Then the water-sprite bathed the Bodhisatta, and gave
him food to eat and water to drink, decked him with flowers, sprinkled
him with scents, and laid out a couch for him in the midst of a gorgeous
pavilion. Seating himself on this couch, and making the water-sprite
sit at his feet, the Bodhisatta said, "Listen then and you shall hear
what the truly godlike is." And he repeated this stanza:--
Those only 'godlike' call who shrink from sin,
The white-souled tranquil votaries of Good.
And
when the demon heard this, he was pleased, and said to the Bodhisatta,
"Man of wisdom, I am pleased with you, and give you up one of your
brothers. Which shall I bring?" "The youngest." "Man of wisdom, though
you know so well what the truly godlike is, you don't act on your
knowledge." "How so?" "Why, you take the younger in preference to the
elder, without regard to his seniority." "Demon, I not only know but
practise the godlike. It was on this boy's account that we sought refuge
in the forest; it was for him that his mother asked the kingdom from
our father, and our father, refusing to fulfil her demand, consented to
our flight to the refuge of the forest. With us came this boy, nor ever
thought of turning back again. Not a soul would believe me if I were to
give out that he had been devoured by a demon in the forest; and it is
the fear of odium that impels me to demand him at your hands."
"Excellent!
excellent! O man of wisdom," cried the demon in approval; "you not only
know but practise the godlike." And in token of his pleasure and
approval he brought forth the two brothers and gave them both to the
Bodhisatta.
Then
said the latter to the water-sprite, "Friend, it is in consequence of
your own evil deeds in times past that you have now been born a demon
subsisting on the flesh and blood of other living creatures; and in this
present birth too you are continuing to do evil. This evil conduct will
for ever bar you from escaping re-birth in hell and the other evil
states. Wherefore, from this time forth renounce evil and live
virtuously."
Having
worked the demon's conversion, the Bodhisatta continued to dwell at
that spot under his protection, until one day he read in the stars that
his father was dead. Then taking the water-sprite with him, he returned
to Benares and took possession of the
kingdom, making Prince Moon his viceroy and Prince Sun his
generalissimo. For the water-sprite he made a home in a pleasant spot
and took measures to ensure his being provided with the choicest
garlands, flowers, and food. He himself ruled in righteousness until he
passed away to fare according to his deeds.
_____________________________
His
lesson ended, the Master preached the Truths, at the close whereof that
Brother won the Fruit of the First Path. And the All-knowing Buddha,
having told the two stories, made the connexion linking the two
together, and identified the Birth, by saying, "The well-to-do Brother
was the water-demon of those days; Ananda was Prince Sun, Sariputta
Prince Moon, and I myself the eldest brother, Prince Mahimsasa."
TANDULANALI-JATAKA.
TANDULANALI-JATAKA.
"Dost ask how much a peck of rice is worth?"--This was told by the Master, whilst at Jetavana, about the Elder Udayi, called the Dullard.
At that time the reverend Dabba, the Mallian, was manciple to the Brotherhood. When in the early morning Dabba was
allotting the checks for rice, sometimes it was choice rice and
sometimes it was an inferior quality which fell to the share of the
Elder Udayi. On days when he received the inferior quality, he used to make a commotion in the check-room, by demanding, "Is Dabba the
only one who knows how to give out checks? Don't we know?" One day when
he was making a commotion, they handed him the check-basket, saying,
"Here! you give the checks out yourself to-day!" Thenceforth, it wasUdayi who
gave out the checks to the Brotherhood. But, in his distribution, he
could not tell the best from the inferior rice; nor did he know what
seniority was entitled to the best rice and what to the inferior. So
too, when he was making out the roster, he had not an idea of the
seniority of the Brethren thereon. Consequently, when the Brethren took
up their places, he made a mark on the ground or on the wall to shew that
one detachment stood here, and another there. Next day there were fewer
Brethren of one grade and more of another in the check-room; where
there were fewer, the mark was too low down; where the number was
greater, it was too high up. But Udayi, quite ignorant of detachments, gave out the checks simply according to his old marks.
Hence, the Brethren said to him, "Friend Udayi,
the mark is too high up or too low down; the best rice is for those of
such and such seniority, and the inferior quality for such and such
others." But he put them back with the argument, "If this mark is where
it is, what you are standing here for? Why am I to trust you? It's my
mark I trust."
Then, the boys and novices thrust him from the check-room, crying, "Friend Udayi the
Dullard, when you give out the checks, the Brethren are docked of what
they ought to get; you're not fit to give them out; get you gone from
here." Hereupon, a great uproar arose in the check-room.
Hearing the noise, the Master asked the Elder Ananda, saying, "Ananda, there is a great uproar in the check-room. What is the noise about?"
The Elder explained it all to the Buddha. "Ananda," said he, "this is not the only time when Udayi by his stupidity has robbed others of their profit; he did just the same thing in bygone times too."
The Elder asked the Blessed One for an explanation, and the Blessed One made clear what had been concealed by re-birth.
_____________________________
Once on a time Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares in Kasi. In those days our Bodhisatta was his valuer.
He used to value horses, elephants, and the like; and jewels, gold, and
the like; and he used to pay over to the owners of the goods the proper
price, as he fixed it.
But the king was greedy and his greed suggested to him this thought: "This valuer with his style of valuing will soon exhaust all the riches in my house; I must get another valuer." Opening his window and looking out into his courtyard, he espied walking across a stupid, greedy hind in whom he
saw a likely candidate for the post. So the king had the man sent for,
and asked him whether he could do the work. "Oh yes," said the man; and
so, to safeguard the royal treasure, this stupid fellow was appointed valuer.
After this the fool, in valuing elephants and horses and the like, used
to fix a price dictated by his own fancy, neglecting their true worth;
but, as he was valuer, the price was what he said and no other.
At that time there arrived from the north country a horse-dealer with 500 horses. The king sent for his new valuer and
bade him value the horses. And the price he set on the whole 500 horses
was just one measure of rice, which he ordered to be paid over to the
dealer, directing the horses to be led off to the stable. Away went the
horse-dealer to the old valuer, to whom he told what had happened, and asked what was to be done. "Give him a bribe," said the ex-valuer,
"and put this point to him: 'Knowing as we do that our horses are worth
just a single measure of rice, we are curious to learn from you what
the precise value of a measure of rice is; could you state its value in
the king's presence?' If he says he can, then take him before the king;
and I too will be there."
Readily following the Bodhisatta's advice,
the horse-dealer bribed the man and put the question to him. The other,
having expressed his ability to value a measure of rice, was promptly
taken to the palace, whither also went the Bodhisatta and
many other ministers. With due obeisance the horse-dealer said, "Sire, I
do not dispute it that the price of 500 horses is a single measure of
rice; but I would ask your majesty to question your valuer as to the value of that measure of rice." Ignorant of what had passed, the king said to the fellow, "Valuer,
what are 500 horses worth?" "A measure of rice, sire," was the reply.
"Very good, my friends; if 500 horses then are worth one measure of
rice, what is that measure of rice worth?" "It is worth allBenares and its suburbs," was the fool's reply.
(Thus
we learn that, having first valued the horses at a measure of
hill-paddy to please the king, he was bribed by the horse-dealer to
estimate that measure of rice at the worth of all Benares and its suburbs. And that though the walls of Benares were twelve leagues round by themselves, while the city and suburbs together were three hundred leagues round!
Yet the fool priced this entire vast city and its suburbs at a single measure of rice!
Hereupon the ministers clapped their hands and laughed merrily. "We used to think," they said in scorn, "that the earth and the realm were beyond price; but now we learn that the kingdom of Benares
Then the Bodhisatta repeated this stanza:
Dost ask how much a peck of rice is worth?
--Why, all Benares , both within and out.
Yet, strange to tell, five hundred horses too
Are worth precisely this same peck of rice!
Thus put to open shame, the king sent the fool packing, and gave the Bodhisatta the office again. And when his life closed, the Bodhisatta passed away to fare according to his deserts.
_____________________________
His lesson ended and the two stories told, the Master made the connexion linking both together, and identified the Birth by saying in conclusion,--"Udayi the Dullard was the stupid rustic valuer of those days, and I myself the wise valuer."
CULLAKA-SETTHI-JATAKA.
CULLAKA-SETTHI-JATAKA.
"With humblest start." This story was told by the Master about the Elder named Little Wayman, while in Jivaka's Mango-grove near Rajagraha. And here an account of Little Wayman's birth must be given.
Tradition tells us that the daughter of a rich merchant's family in Rajagaha actually stooped to intimacy with a slave. Becoming alarmed lest her misconduct should get known, she said to the slave, "We can't live on here; for if my mother and father come to know of this sin of ours, they will tear us limb from limb. Let us go and live afar off." So with their belongings in their hands they stole together out by the hardly-opened door, and fled away, they cared not whither, to find a shelter beyond the ken of her family.
Then they went and lived together in a certain place, with the result that she conceived. And when her full time was nearly come, she told her husband and said, "If I am taken in labour away from kith and kin, that will be a trouble to both of us. So let us go home." First he agreed to start to-day, and then he put it off till the morrow; and so he let the days slip by, till she thought to herself, "This fool is so conscious of his great offence that he dares not go. One's parents are one's best friends; so whether he goes or stays, I must go." So, when he went out, she put all her household matters in order and set off home, telling her next-door neighbour where she was going. Returning home, and not finding his wife, but discovering from the neighbours that she had started off home, he hurried after her and came up with her on the road; and then and there she was taken in labour.
"What's this, my dear?" said he.
"I have given birth to a son, my husband," said she.
Accordingly, as the very thing had now happened which was the only reason for the journey, they both agreed that it was no good going on now, and so turned back again. And as their child had been born by the way, they called him 'Wayman.'
Not long after, she became with child again, and everything fell out as Before. And as this second child too was born by the way, they called him 'Wayman' too, distinguishing the elder as 'Great Wayman' and the younger as 'Little Wayman: Then, with both their children, they again went back to their own home.
Now, as they were living there, their way-child heard other boys talking of their uncles and grandfathers and grandmothers; so he asked his mother whether he hadn't got relations like the other boys. "Oh yes, my dear," said his mother; "but they don't live here. Your grandfather is a wealthy merchant in the city of Rajagaha, and you have plenty of relations there." "Why don't we go there, mother?" She told the boy the reason why they stayed away; but, as the children kept on speaking about these relations, she said to her husband, "The children are always plaguing me. Are my parents going to eat us at sight? Come, let us shew the children their grandfather's family." "Well, I don't mind taking them there; but I really could not face your parents." "All right;--so long as, some way or other, the children come to see their grandfather's family," said she.
So those two took their children and coming in due course to Rajagaha put up in a public rest-house by the city gate. Then, taking with them the two children, the woman caused their coming to be made known to her parents. The latter, on hearing the message, returned this answer, "True, it is strange to be without children unless one has renounced the world in quest of Arahatship. Still, so great is the guilt of the pair towards us that they may not stand in our sight. Here is a sum of money for them: let them take this and retire to live where they will. But the children they may send here." Then the merchant's daughter took the money so sent her, and despatched the children by the messengers. So the children grew up in their grandfather's house,--Little Wayman being of tender years, while Great Wayman used to go with his grand-father to hear the Buddha preach the Truth. And by constant hearing of the Truth from the Master's own lips, the lad's heart yearned to renounce the world for the life of a Brother.
"With your permission," said he to his grandfather, "I should like to join the Brotherhood." "What do I hear?" cried the old man. "Why, it would give me greater joy to see you join the Order than to see the whole world join. Become a Brother, if you feel able." And he took him to the Master.
"Well, merchant," said the Master, "have you brought your boy with you?" Yes sir; this is my grandson, who wishes to join your Brotherhood." Then the Master sent for a Mendicant, and told him to admit the lad to the Order; and the Mendicant repeated the Formula of the Perishable Body and admitted the lad as a novice. When the latter had learned by heart many words of the Buddha, and was old enough, he was admitted a full Brother. He now gave himself up to earnest thought till he won Arahatship; and as he passed his days in the enjoyment of Insight and the Paths, he thought whether he could not impart the like happiness to Little Wayman. So he went to his grandfather the merchant, and said, "Great merchant, with your consent, I will admit Little Wayman to the Order." "Pray do so, reverend sir," was the reply.
Then the Elder admitted the lad Little Wayman and established him in the Ten Commandments. But Little Wayman proved a dullard: with four months' study he failed to get by heart this single stanza:--
Lo! like a fragrant lotus at the dawn
Of day, full-blown, with virgin wealth of scent,
Behold the Buddha's glory shining forth,
As in the vaulted heaven beams the sun!
For, we are told, in the Buddhahood of Kassapa this Little Wayman, having himself attained to knowledge as a Brother, laughed to scorn a dull Brother who was learning a passage by heart. His scorn so confused his butt, that the latter could not learn or recite the passage. And now, in consequence, on joining the Brotherhood he himself proved a dullard. Each new line he learned drove the last out of his memory; and four months slipped away while he was struggling with this single stanza. Said his elder brother to him, "Wayman, you are not equal to receiving this doctrine. In four whole months you have been unable to learn a single stanza. How then can you hope to crown your vocation with supreme success? Leave the monastery." But, though thus expelled by his brother, Little Wayman was so attached to the Buddha's creed that he did not want to become a layman.
Now at that time Great Wayman was acting as steward. And Jivaka Komarabhacca, going to his mango-grove with a large present of perfumes and flowers for the Master, had presented his offering and listened to a discourse; then, rising from his seat and bowing to the Buddha, he went up to Great Wayman and asked, "How many Brethren are there, reverend sir, with the Master?" "Just 500, sir." "Will you bring the 500 Brethren, with the Buddha at their head, to take their meal at my house to-morrow?" "Lay-disciple, one of them named Little Wayman is a dullard and makes no progress in the Faith," said the Elder; "I accept the invitation for everyone but him."
Hearing this, Little Wayman thought to himself, "In accepting the invitation for all these Brethren, the Elder carefully accepts so as to exclude me. This proves that my brother's affection for me is dead. What have I to do with this proves? I will become a layman and live in the exercise of charity and other good works of a lay character." And on the morrow early he went forth, avowedly to become a layman again.
Now at the first break of day, as he was surveying the world, the Master became aware of this; and going forth even earlier than Little Wayman, he paced to and fro by the porch on Little Wayman's road. As the latter came out of the house, he observed the Master, and with a salutation went up to him. "Whither away at this hour, Little Wayman?" said the Master.
"My brother has expelled me from the Order, sir; and I am going to wander forth."
"Little Wayman, as it was under me that you took the vows, why did you not, when expelled by your brother, come to me? Conte, what have you to do with a layman's life? You shall stop with me." So saying, he took Little Wayman and seated him at the door of his own perfumed chamber. Then giving him a perfectly clean cloth which he had supernaturally created, the Master said, "Face towards the East, and as you handle this cloth, repeat these words--'Removal of Impurity; Removal of Impurity.'" Then at the time appointed the Master, attended by the Brotherhood, went to Jivaka's house and sat down on the seat set for him.
Now Little Wayman, with his gaze fixed on the sun, sat handling the cloth and repeating the words, "Removal of Impurity; Removal of Impurity." And as he kept handling the piece of cloth, it grew soiled. Then he thought, "Just now this piece of cloth was quite clean; but my personality has destroyed its original state and made it dirty. Impermanent indeed are all compounded things! And even as he realised Death and Decay, he won the Arahat's Illumination. Knowing that Little Wayman's mind had won Illumination, the Master sent forth an apparition and in this semblance of himself appeared before him, as if seated in front of him and saying, "Heed it not, Little Wayman, that this mere piece of cloth has become dirty and stained with impurity; within thee are the impurities of lust and other evil things. Remove them." And the apparition uttered these stanzas:--
Impurity in Lust consists, not dirt;
And Lust we term the real Impurity.
Yea, Brethren, whoso drives it from his breast,
He lives the gospel of the Purified.
_______________
Impurity in Wrath consists, not dirt;
And Wrath we term the real Impurity.
Yea, Brethren, whoso drives it from his breast,
He lives the gospel of the Purified.
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Delusion is Impurity, not dirt;
We term Delusion real Impurity.
Yea, Brethren, whoso drives it from his breast,
He lives the gospel of the Purified.
At the close of these stanzas Little Wayman attained to Arahatship with the four branches of knowledge, whereby he straightway came to have knowledge of all the sacred texts. Tradition has it that, in ages past, when he was a king and was making a solemn procession round his city, he wiped the sweat from his brow with a spotless cloth which he was wearing; and the cloth was stained. Thought he, "It is this body of mine which has destroyed the original purity and whiteness of the cloth, and dirtied it. Impermanent indeed are all composite things." Thus he grasped the idea of impermanence; and hence it came to pass that it was the removal of impurity which worked his salvation.
Meantime, Jivaka Komarabhacca offered the Water of Donation; but the Master put his hand over the vessel, saying, "Are there no Brethren, Jivaka, in the monastery?"
Said Great Wayman, "There are no Brethren there, reverend sir." "Oh yes, there are, Jivaka," said the Master. "Hi, there!" said Jivaka to a servant; "just you go and see whether or not there are any Brethren in the monastery."
At that moment Little Wayman, conscious as he was that his brother was declaring there were no Brethren in the monastery, determined to shew him there were, and so filled the whole mango-grove with nothing but Brothers. Some were making robes, others dyeing, whilst others again were repeating the sacred texts:--each of a thousand Brethren he made unlike all the others. Finding this host of Brethren in the monastery, the man returned and said that the whole mango-grove was full of Brethren.
But as regards the Elder up in the monastery--
Wayman, a thousand-fold self-multiplied,
Sat on, till bidden, in that pleasant grove.
"Now go back," said the Master to the man, "and say 'The Master sends for him whose name is Little Wayman.'
But when the man went and delivered his message, a thousand mouths answered, "I am Little Wayman! I am Little Wayman!"
Back came the man with the report, "They all say they are 'Little Wayman,' reverend sir."
"Well now go back," said the Master, "and take by the hand the first one of them who says he is Little Wayman and the others will all vanish." The man did as he was bidden, and straightway the thousand Brethren vanished from sight. The Elder came back with the man.
When the meal was over, the Master said, "Jivaka, take Little Wayman's bowl; he will return thanks." Jivaka did so. Then like a young lion roaring defiance, the Elder ranged the whole of the sacred texts through in his address of thanks. Lastly, the Master rose from his seat and attended by the Order returned to the monastery, and there, after the assignment of tasks by the Brotherhood, he rose from his seat and, standing in the doorway of his perfumed chamber, delivered a Buddha-discourse to the Brotherhood. Ending with a theme which he gave out for meditation, and dismissing the Brotherhood, he retired into his perfumed chamber, and lay down lion-like on his right side to rest.
At even, the orange-robed Brethren assembled together from all sides in the Hall of Truth and sang the Master's praises, even as though they were spreading a curtain of orange cloth round him as they sat.
"Brethren," it was said, "Great Wayman failed to recognise the bent of Little Wayman, and expelled him from the monastery as a dullard who could not even learn a single stanza in four whole months. But the All-Knowing Buddha by his supremacy in the Truth bestowed on him Arahatship with all its supernatural knowledge, even while a single meal was in progress. And by that knowledge he grasped the whole of the sacred texts. Oh! how great is a Buddha's power!"
Now the Blessed One, knowing full well the talk that was going on in the Hall of Truth, thought it meet to go there. So, rising from his Buddha-couch, he donned his two orange under-cloths, girded himself as with lightning, arrayed himself in his orange-coloured robe, the ample robe of a Buddha, and came forth to the Hall of Truth with the infinite grace of a Buddha, moving with the royal gait of an elephant in the plenitude of his vigour. Ascending the glorious Buddha-throne set in the midst of the resplendent hall, he seated himself upon the middle of the throne emitting those six-coloured rays which mark a Buddha,--like the newly-arisen sun, when from the peaks of the Yugandhara Mountains he illumines the depths of the ocean. Immediately the All-Knowing One came into the Hall, the Brotherhood broke off their talk and were silent. Gazing round on the company with gentle loving-kindness, the Master thought within himself, "This company is perfect! Not a man is guilty of moving hand or foot improperly; not a sound, not a cough or sneeze is to he heard! In their reverence and awe of the majesty and glory of the Buddha, not a man would dare to speak before I did, even if I sat here in silence all my life long. But it is my part to begin; and I will open the conversation." Then in his sweet divine tones he addressed the Brethren and said, "What, pray, is the theme of this conclave? And what was the talk which was broken off?"
"Sir," said they, "it was no profitless theme, but your own praises that we were telling here in conclave."
And when they had told him word for word what they had been saying, the Master said, "Brethren, through me Little Wayman has just now risen to great things in the Faith; in times past it was to great things in the way of wealth that he rose,--but equally through me."
The Brethren asked the Master to explain this; and the Blessed One made clear in these words a thing which succeeding existences had hidden from them:--
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Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares in Kasi, the Bodhisatta was born into the Treasurer's family, and growing up, was made Treasurer, being called Treasurer Little. A wise and clever man was he, with a keen eye for signs and omens. One day on his way to wait upon the king, he came on a dead mouse lying on the road; and, taking note of the position of the stars at that moment, he said, "Any decent young fellow with his wits about him has only to pick that mouse up, and he might start a business and keep a wife."
His words were overheard by a young man of good family but reduced circumstances, who said to himself, "That's a man who has always got a reason for what he says." And accordingly he picked up the mouse, which he sold for a farthing at a tavern for their cat.
With the farthing he got molasses and took drinking water in a water-pot. Coming on flower-gatherers returning from the forest, he gave each a tiny quantity of the molasses and ladled the water out to them. Each of them gave him a handful of flowers, with the proceeds of which, next day, he came back again to the flower grounds provided with more molasses and a pot of water. That day the flower-gatherers, before they went, gave him flowering plants with half the flowers left on them; and thus in a little while he obtained eight pennies.
Later, one rainy and windy day, the wind blew down a quantity of rotten branches and boughs and leaves in the king's pleasaunce, and the gardener did not see how to clear them away. Then up came the young man with an offer to remove the lot, if the wood and leaves might be his. The gardener closed with the offer on the spot. Then this apt pupil of Treasurer Little repaired to the children's playground and in a very little while had got them by bribes of molasses to collect every stick and leaf in the place into a heap at the entrance to the pleasaunce. Just then the king's potter was on the look out for fuel to fire bowls for the palace, and coming on this heap, took the lot off his hands. The sale of his wood brought in sixteen pennies to this pupil of Treasurer Little, as well as five bowls and other vessels. Having now twenty-four pennies in all, a plan occurred to him. He went to the vicinity of the city-gate with a jar full of water and supplied 500 mowers with water to drink. Said they, "You've done us a good turn, friend. What can we do for you?" "Oh, I'll tell you when I want your aid," said he; and as he went about, he struck up an intimacy with a land-trader and a sea-trader. Said the former to him, "To-morrow there will come to town a horse-dealer with 500 horses to sell." On hearing this piece of news, he said to the mowers, "I want each of you to-day to give me a bundle of grass and not to sell your own grass till mine is sold." "Certainly," said they, and delivered the 500 bundles of grass at his house. Unable to get grass for his horses elsewhere, the dealer purchased our friend's grass for a thousand pieces. Only a few days later his sea-trading friend brought him news of the arrival of a large ship in port; and another plan struck him. He hired for eight pence a well appointed carriage which plied for hire by the hour, and went in great style down to the port. Having bought the ship on credit and deposited his signet-ring as security, he had a pavilion pitched hard by and said to his people as he took his seat inside, "When merchants are being shewn in, let them be passed on by three successive ushers into my presence." Hearing that a ship had arrived in port, about a hundred merchants came down to buy the cargo; only to he told that they could not have it as a great merchant had already made a payment on account. So away they all went to the young man; and the footmen duly announced them by three successive ushers, as had been arranged beforehand. Each man of the hundred severally gave him a thousand pieces to buy a share in the ship and then a further thousand each to buy him out altogether. So it was with 200,000 pieces that this pupil of Treasurer Little returned to Benares.
Actuated by a desire to shew his gratitude, he went with one hundred thousand pieces to call on Treasurer Little. "How did you come by all this wealth?" asked the Treasurer. "In four short months, simply by following your advice," replied the young man; and he told him the whole story, starting with the dead mouse. Thought Lord High Treasurer Little, on hearing all this, "I must see that a young fellow of these parts does not fall into anybody else's hands." So he married him to his own grown-up daughter and settled all the family estates on the young man. And at the Treasurer's death, he became Treasurer in that city. And the Bodhisatta passed away to fare according to his deserts.
 |
| Ajintha |
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His lesson ended, the Supreme Buddha, the All-Knowing One himself, repeated this stanza:
With humblest start and trifling capital
A shrewd and able man will rise to wealth,
E'en as his breath can nurse a tiny flame.
Also the Blessed One said, "It is through me, Brethren, that Little Wayman has just now risen to great things in the Faith, as in times past to great things in the way of wealth." His lesson thus finished, the Master made the connexion between the two stories he had told and identified the Birth in these concluding words, "Little Wayman was in those days the pupil of Treasurer Little, and I myself Lord High Treasurer Little."
SERIVANIJA-JATAKA.
SERIVANIJA-JATAKA.
"If in this faith." This lesson too was taught by the Blessed One while at Savatthi, also about a Brother who gave up persevering.
For, when the man was brought by the Brethren exactly as in the foregoing case, the Master said, "You, Brother, who after devoting yourself to this glorious doctrine which bestows Path and Fruit, are giving up persevering, will suffer long, like the hawker of Seri who lost a golden bowl worth a hundred thousand pieces."
The Brethren asked the Blessed One to explain this to them. The Blessed One made clear a thing concealed from them by re-birth.
_____________________________
Once on a time in the kingdom of Seri, five aeons ago, the Bodhisatta dealt in pots and pans, and was called 'the Serivan.' In the company of another dealer in the same wares, a greedy fellow who was also known as 'the Serivan,' he came across the river Telavaha and entered the city of Andhapura. Apportioning the streets between the two of them, he set about hawking his wares round the streets of his district, and the other did the same in his district.
Now in that city there was a decayed family. Once they had been rich merchants, but by the time of our story they had lost all the sons and brothers and all their wealth. The sole survivors were a girl and her grandmother, and they got their living by working for hire. Nevertheless, they had got in their house the golden bowl out of which in the old days the great merchant, the head of the family, used to eat; but it had been thrown among the pots and pans, and having been long out of use, was grimed over with dirt, so that the two women did not know that it was gold. To the door of their house came the greedy hawker on his round, crying, "Waterpots to sell! Waterpots to sell!" And the damsel, when she knew be was there, said to her grandmother, "Oh, do buy me a trinket, grandmother."
"We're very poor, dear; what can we offer in exchange for it?" "Why here's this bowl which is no good to us. Let us change that for it."
The old woman had the hawker brought in and seated, and gave him the bowl, saying, "Take this, sir, and be so good as to give your sister something or other in exchange."
The hawker took the bowl in his hand, turned it over, and, suspecting it was gold, scratched a line on the back of it with a needle, whereby he
knew for certain that it was real gold. Then, thinking that he would get the pot without giving anything whatever for it to the women, he cried, "What's the value of this, pray? Why it isn't worth half a farthing!" And therewithal he threw the bowl on the ground, rose up from his seat, and left the house. Now, as it had been agreed between the two hawkers that the one might try the streets which the other had already been into, the Bodhisatta came into that same street and appeared at the door of the house, crying, "Waterpots to sell!" Once again the damsel made the same request of her grandmother; and the old woman, replied, "My dear, the first hawker threw our bowl on the ground and flung out of the house. What have we got left to offer now?"
"Oh, but that hawker was a harsh-spoken man, grandmother dear; whilst this one looks a nice man and speaks kindly. Very likely he would take it." "Call him in then." So he came into the house, and they gave him a seat and put the bowl into his hands. Seeing that the bowl was gold, he said, "Mother, this howl is worth a hundred thousand pieces; I haven't its value with me."
"Sir, the first hawker who came here said that it was not worth half a farthing; so he threw it to the ground and went away. It must have been the efficacy of your own goodness which has turned the bowl into gold. Take it; give us something or other for it; and go your way." At the time the Bodhisatta had 500 pieces of money and a stock worth as much more. The whole of this he gave to them, saying, "Let me retain my scales, my bag, and eight pieces of money." And with their consent he took these with him, and departed with all speed to the river-side where he gave his eight coins to the boatman and jumped into the boat. Subsequently that greedy hawker had come back to the house, and had asked them to bring out their bowl, saying he would give them something or other for it. But the old woman flew out at him with these words, "You made out that our golden bowl which is worth a hundred thousand pieces was not worth even a half-farthing. But there came an upright hawker (your master, I take it), who gave us a thousand pieces for it and took the bowl away."
Hereupon he exclaimed, "He has robbed me of a golden bowl worth a full hundred thousand pieces; he has caused me a terrible loss." And intense sorrow came upon him, so that he lost command over himself and became like one distraught. His money and goods he flung away at the door of the house; he threw off his upper and under cloths; and, armed with the beam of his scales as a club, he tracked the Bodhisatta down to the river-side. Finding the latter already crossing, he shouted to the boatman to put back, but the Bodhisatta told him not to do so. As the other stood there gazing and gazing at the retreating Bodhisatta, intense sorrow seized upon him, His heart grew hot; blood gushed from his lips; and his heart cracked like the mud at the bottom of a tank, which the sun has dried up. Through the hatred which he had contracted against the Bodhisatta, he perished then and there. (This was the first time Devadatta conceived a grudge against the Bodhisatta.) The Bodhisatta, after a life spent in charity and other good works, passed away to fare according to his deserts.
_____________________________
When the Supreme Buddha had ended this lesson, he, the All-Knowing one himself, uttered this stanza:--
After having thus delivered his discourse in such a way as to lead up to Arahatship, the Master expounded the Four Truths, at the close whereof the fainthearted Brother was established in that highest Fruit of all, which is Arahatship.
And, after telling the two stories, the Master made the connexion linking them both together, and identified the Birth by saying in conclusion, "In those days Devadatta was the foolish hawker; and I myself was the wise and good hawker."
"If in this faith." This lesson too was taught by the Blessed One while at Savatthi, also about a Brother who gave up persevering.
For, when the man was brought by the Brethren exactly as in the foregoing case, the Master said, "You, Brother, who after devoting yourself to this glorious doctrine which bestows Path and Fruit, are giving up persevering, will suffer long, like the hawker of Seri who lost a golden bowl worth a hundred thousand pieces."
The Brethren asked the Blessed One to explain this to them. The Blessed One made clear a thing concealed from them by re-birth.
_____________________________
Once on a time in the kingdom of Seri, five aeons ago, the Bodhisatta dealt in pots and pans, and was called 'the Serivan.' In the company of another dealer in the same wares, a greedy fellow who was also known as 'the Serivan,' he came across the river Telavaha and entered the city of Andhapura. Apportioning the streets between the two of them, he set about hawking his wares round the streets of his district, and the other did the same in his district.
Now in that city there was a decayed family. Once they had been rich merchants, but by the time of our story they had lost all the sons and brothers and all their wealth. The sole survivors were a girl and her grandmother, and they got their living by working for hire. Nevertheless, they had got in their house the golden bowl out of which in the old days the great merchant, the head of the family, used to eat; but it had been thrown among the pots and pans, and having been long out of use, was grimed over with dirt, so that the two women did not know that it was gold. To the door of their house came the greedy hawker on his round, crying, "Waterpots to sell! Waterpots to sell!" And the damsel, when she knew be was there, said to her grandmother, "Oh, do buy me a trinket, grandmother."
"We're very poor, dear; what can we offer in exchange for it?" "Why here's this bowl which is no good to us. Let us change that for it."
The old woman had the hawker brought in and seated, and gave him the bowl, saying, "Take this, sir, and be so good as to give your sister something or other in exchange."
The hawker took the bowl in his hand, turned it over, and, suspecting it was gold, scratched a line on the back of it with a needle, whereby he
knew for certain that it was real gold. Then, thinking that he would get the pot without giving anything whatever for it to the women, he cried, "What's the value of this, pray? Why it isn't worth half a farthing!" And therewithal he threw the bowl on the ground, rose up from his seat, and left the house. Now, as it had been agreed between the two hawkers that the one might try the streets which the other had already been into, the Bodhisatta came into that same street and appeared at the door of the house, crying, "Waterpots to sell!" Once again the damsel made the same request of her grandmother; and the old woman, replied, "My dear, the first hawker threw our bowl on the ground and flung out of the house. What have we got left to offer now?"
"Oh, but that hawker was a harsh-spoken man, grandmother dear; whilst this one looks a nice man and speaks kindly. Very likely he would take it." "Call him in then." So he came into the house, and they gave him a seat and put the bowl into his hands. Seeing that the bowl was gold, he said, "Mother, this howl is worth a hundred thousand pieces; I haven't its value with me."
"Sir, the first hawker who came here said that it was not worth half a farthing; so he threw it to the ground and went away. It must have been the efficacy of your own goodness which has turned the bowl into gold. Take it; give us something or other for it; and go your way." At the time the Bodhisatta had 500 pieces of money and a stock worth as much more. The whole of this he gave to them, saying, "Let me retain my scales, my bag, and eight pieces of money." And with their consent he took these with him, and departed with all speed to the river-side where he gave his eight coins to the boatman and jumped into the boat. Subsequently that greedy hawker had come back to the house, and had asked them to bring out their bowl, saying he would give them something or other for it. But the old woman flew out at him with these words, "You made out that our golden bowl which is worth a hundred thousand pieces was not worth even a half-farthing. But there came an upright hawker (your master, I take it), who gave us a thousand pieces for it and took the bowl away."
Hereupon he exclaimed, "He has robbed me of a golden bowl worth a full hundred thousand pieces; he has caused me a terrible loss." And intense sorrow came upon him, so that he lost command over himself and became like one distraught. His money and goods he flung away at the door of the house; he threw off his upper and under cloths; and, armed with the beam of his scales as a club, he tracked the Bodhisatta down to the river-side. Finding the latter already crossing, he shouted to the boatman to put back, but the Bodhisatta told him not to do so. As the other stood there gazing and gazing at the retreating Bodhisatta, intense sorrow seized upon him, His heart grew hot; blood gushed from his lips; and his heart cracked like the mud at the bottom of a tank, which the sun has dried up. Through the hatred which he had contracted against the Bodhisatta, he perished then and there. (This was the first time Devadatta conceived a grudge against the Bodhisatta.) The Bodhisatta, after a life spent in charity and other good works, passed away to fare according to his deserts.
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When the Supreme Buddha had ended this lesson, he, the All-Knowing one himself, uttered this stanza:--
If in this faith you prove remiss, and failTo win the goal whereto its teachings lead,--Then, like the hawker called 'the Serivan,'Full long you'll rue the prize your folly lost.
After having thus delivered his discourse in such a way as to lead up to Arahatship, the Master expounded the Four Truths, at the close whereof the fainthearted Brother was established in that highest Fruit of all, which is Arahatship.
And, after telling the two stories, the Master made the connexion linking them both together, and identified the Birth by saying in conclusion, "In those days Devadatta was the foolish hawker; and I myself was the wise and good hawker."
VANNUPATHA-JATAKA.
"Untiring, deep they dug."--This discourse was delivered by the Blessed One whilst he was dwelling at Savatthi.
About whom, you ask?
About a Brother who gave up persevering.
Tradition
says that, whilst the Buddha was dwelling at Savatthi, there came to
Jetavana a scion of a Savatthi family, who, on hearing a discourse by
the Master, realised that Lusts breed suffering, and was admitted to the
first stage of the Brotherhood. After five years passed in preparing
for admission to full Brotherhood, when he had learnt two summaries and
had trained himself in the methods of Insight, he obtained from the
Master a theme for meditation which commended itself to him. Retiring to
a forest, he passed there the rainy season; but for all his striving
during the three months, he could not develope a glimmer or an inkling
of Insight. So the thought came to him, "The Master said there were four
types of men, and I must belong to the lowest of all; in this birth,
methinks, there is neither Path nor Fruit for me. What good shall I do
by living in the forest? Back to the Master I will go, and live my life
beholding the glories of the Buddha's presence and listening to his
sweet teachings." And back again to Jetavana he came.
Now
his friends and intimates said, "Sir, it was you who obtained from the
Master a theme for meditation and departed to live the solitary life of a
sage. Yet here you are back again, going about enjoying fellowship. Can
it be that you have won the crown of the Brothers vocation and that you
will never know re-birth?" "Sirs, as I won neither Path nor Fruit, I
felt myself doomed to futility, and so gave up persevering and came
back." "You have done wrong, Sir, in shewing a faint heart when you had
devoted yourself to the doctrine of the dauntless Master. Come; let us
bring you to the Buddha's notice." And they took him with them to the
Master.
When
the Master became aware of their coming, he said, "Brethren, you bring
with you this Brother against his will. What has he done?"
"Sir,
after devoting himself to so absolutely true a doctrine, this Brother
has given up persevering in the solitary life of a sage, and is come
back."
Then
said the Master to him, "Is it true, as they say, that you, Brother,
have given up persevering?" "It is true, Blessed One." "But how comes it
that, after devoting yourself to such a doctrine, you, Brother, should
be the one to show yourself not a man desiring little, contented,
solitary, and determined, but a man lacking perseverance? Was it not you
who were so stout-hearted in bygone days? Was it not by you
single-handed, thanks to your perseverance, that in a sandy desert the
men and the oxen belonging to a caravan of five hundred carts got water
and were cheered? And how is it that, now, you are giving in?" These
words sufficed to give heart to that Brother.
Hearing
this talk, the Brethren asked the Blessed One, saying, "Sir, the
present faintheartedness of this Brother is clear to us; but hidden from
us is the knowledge of how, by the perseverance of this single man, the
men and oxen got water in a sandy desert and were cheered. This is
known only to you who are omniscient; pray tell us about it."
"Hearken,
then, Brethren," said the Blessed One; and, having excited their
attention, he made clear the thing that re-birth had concealed from
them.
********************
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was king in Benares
in Kasi the Bodhisatta was born into a trader's family. When he was
grown up, he used to travel about trading with 500 carts. On one
occasion he came to a sandy wilderness sixty leagues across, the sand of
which was so fine that, when grasped, it slipped through the fingers of
the closed fist. As soon as the sun got up, it grew as hot as a bed of
charcoal-embers and nobody could walk upon it. Accordingly, those
traversing it used to take fire-wood, water, oil, rice and so forth on
their carts, and only travelled by night. At dawn they used to range
their carts in a circle to form a laager, with an awning spread
overhead, and after an early meal used to sit in the shade all the day
long. When the sun went down, they had their evening meal; and, so soon
as the ground became cool, they used to yoke their carts and move
forward. Travelling on this desert was like voyaging over the sea; a
'desert-pilot,' as he was called, had to convoy them over by knowledge
of the stars . And this was the way in which our merchant was now
travelling that wilderness.
When
he had only some seven more miles before him, he thought to himself,
"To-night will see us out of this sandy wilderness." So, after they had
had their supper, he ordered the wood and water to be thrown away, and
yoking his carts, set out on the road. In the front cart sat the pilot
upon a couch looking up to the stars in the heavens and directing the
course thereby. But so long had he been without sleep that he was tired
out and fell asleep, with the result that he did not mark that the oxen
had turned round and were retracing their steps. All night the oxen kept
on their way, but at dawn the pilot woke up, and, observing the
disposition of the stars overhead, shouted out, "Turn the carts round! turn
the carts round!" And as they turned the carts round and were forming
them into line, the day broke. "Why this is where we camped yesterday,"
cried the people of the caravan. "All our wood and water is gone, and we
are lost." So saying, they unyoked their carts and made a laager and
spread the awning overhead; then each man flung himself down in despair
beneath his own cart. Thought the Bodhisatta to himself, "If I give in,
every single one will perish." So he ranged to and fro while it was
still early and cool, until he came on a clump of kusa-grass. "This
grass," thought he, "can only have grown up here thanks to the presence
of water underneath." So he ordered a spade to be brought and a hole to
be dug at that spot. Sixty cubits down they dug, till at that depth the
spade struck on a rock, and everybody lost heart. But the Bodhisatta,
feeling sure there must be water under that rock, descended into the
hole and took his stand upon the rock. Stooping down, he applied his ear
to it, and listened. Catching the sound of water flowing beneath, he
came out and said to a serving-lad, "My boy, if you give in, we shall
all perish. So take heart and courage. Go down into the hole with this
iron sledge-hammer, and strike the rock."
Obedient
to his master's bidding, the lad, resolute where all others had lost
heart, went down and struck the rock. The rock which had dammed the
stream, split asunder and fell in. Up rose the water in the hole till it
was as high as a palm-tree; and everybody drank and bathed. Then they
chopped up their spare axles and yokes and other surplus gear, cooked
their rice and ate it, and fed their oxen. And as soon as the sun set,
they hoisted a flag by the side of the well and travelled on to their
destination. There they bartered away their goods for twice and four
times their value. With the proceeds they returned to their own home,
where they lived out their term of life and in the end passed away to
fare thereafter according to their deserts. The Bodhisatta too after a
life spent in charity and other good works, passed away likewise to fare
according to his deserts.
_____________________________
When the Supreme Buddha had delivered this discourse, he, the All-Knowing One himself, uttered this stanza:
Untiring, deep they dug that sandy track
Till, in the trodden way, they water found.
So let the sage, in perseverance strong,
Flag not nor tire, until his heart find Peace.
This
discourse ended, he preached the Four Truths, at the close whereof the
fainthearted Brother was established in the highest Fruit of all, which
is Arahatship.
Having
told these two stories, the Master established the connexion linking
them both together, and identified the Birth by saying:--"This
fainthearted Brother of to-day was in those days the serving-lad who,
persevering, broke the rock and gave water to all the people; the
Buddha's followers were the rest of the people of the caravan; and I
myself was their leader."
GAGGA-JATAKA
"Gagga, live an hundred years," etc.--This story the Master told when he was staying in the monastery made by King Pasenadi in front of Jetavana; it was about a sneeze which he gave.
One day, we are told, as the Master sat discoursing with four persons round him, he sneezed. "Long life to the Blessed One, long life t' the Buddha!" the Brothers all cried aloud, and made a great to-do.
The noise interrupted the discourse. Then the Master said to the Brethren: "Why, Brothers, if one cry 'Long life!' on hearing a sneeze, does a man live or die any the more for that?" They answered, "No, no, Sir." He went on, "You should not cry 'Long life' for a sneeze, Brethren. Whosoever does so is guilty of sin."
It is said that at that time, when the Brethren sneezed, people used to call out, "Long life to you, Sir!" But the Brethren had their scruples, and made no answer. Everybody was annoyed, and asked, "Pray, why is it that the priests about Buddha the Sakya prince make no answer, when they sneeze, and somebody or other wishes them long life?"
All this was told to the Blessed One. He said: "Brethren, common folk are superstitious. When you sneeze, and they say, 'Long life to you, Sir!' I permit you to answer, 'The same to you'." Then the Brethren asked him--"Sir, when did people begin to answer 'Long life' by 'The same to you'?" Said the Master, "That was long, long ago;" and he told them a tale of the olden time.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta came into the world as a brahmin's son of the kingdom of Kasi; and his father was a lawyer by calling. When the lad was sixteen years old or so, his father gave a fine jewel into his charge, and they both travelled through town after town, village after village, until they came to Benares. There the man had a meal cooked in the gatekeeper's house; and as he could find nowhere to put up, he asked where there was lodging to be had for wayfarers who came too late? The people told him that there was a building outside the city, but that it was haunted; but however he might lodge there if he liked. Says the lad to his father, "Have no fear of any goblin, father! I will subdue him, and bring him to your feet." So he persuaded his father, and they went to the place together, The father lay down upon a bench, and his son sat beside him, chafing his feet.
Now the Goblin that haunted the place had received it for twelve years' service of Vessavana, on these terms: that if any man who entered it should sneeze, and when long life was wished him, should answer, "Long life to you!" or "The same to you!"--all except these the Goblin had a right to eat. The Goblin lived upon the central rafter of the hut.
He determined to make the father of the Bodhisatta sneeze. Accordingly, by his magic power he raised a cloud of fine dust, which entered the man's nostrils; and as he lay on the bench, he sneezed. The son did not cry "Long life!" and down came the Goblin from his perch, ready to devour his victim. But the Bodhisatta saw him descend, and then these thoughts passed through his mind. "Doubtless it is he who made my father sneeze. This must be a Goblin that eats all who do not say 'Long life to you'." And addressing his father, he repeated the first verse as follows:--
"Gagga, live an hundred years,--aye, and twenty more, I pray!
May no goblin eat you up; live an hundred years, I say!"
The Goblin thought, "This one I cannot eat, because he said 'Long life to you.' But I shall eat his father;" and he came close to the father. But the man divined the truth of the matter--"This must be a Goblin," thought he, "who eats all who do not reply, 'Long life to you, too!'" and so addressing his son, he repeated the second verse:--
"You too live an hundred years,--aye, and twenty more, I pray;
Poison be the goblins' food; live an hundred years, I say!"
The Goblin hearing these words, turned away, thinking "Neither of these is for me to eat." But the Bodhisatta put a question to him: "Come, Goblin, how is .it you eat the people who enter this building?"
"I earned the right for twelve years' service of Vessavana."
"What, are you allowed to eat everybody?"
"All except those who say 'The same to you' when another wishes them long life."
"Goblin," said the lad, "you have done some wickedness in former lives, which has caused you to be born now fierce, and cruel, and a bane to others. If you do the same kind of thing now, you will pass from darkness to darkness. Therefore from this time forth abstain from such things as taking life." With these words he humbled the Goblin, scared him with fear of hell, established him in the Five Precepts, and made him as obedient as an errand-boy.
Next day, when the people came and saw the Goblin, and learnt how that the Bodhisatta had subdued him, they went and told the king: "My lord, some man has subdued the Goblin, and made him as obedient as an errand-boy!" So the king sent for him, and raised him to be Commander-in-Chief; while he heaped honours upon the father. Having made the Goblin a tax-gatherer, and established him in the Bodhisatta's precepts, after giving alms and doing good he departed to swell the hosts of heaven.
_____________________________
When the Master had ended this story, which he told to explain when the custom first arose of answering 'Long life' by 'The same to you,' he identified the Birth: "In those days, Ananda was the king, Kassapa the father, and I myself was the lad his son."
URAGA-JATAKA.
"Concealed within a stone," etc.--This story the Master told at Jetavana, about a soldiers' quarrel.
Tradition tells how two soldiers, in the service of the king of Kosala, of high rank, and great persons at court, no sooner caught sight of one another than they used to fall at ill words. Neither king, nor friends, nor kinsfolk could make them agree.
It happened one day that early in the morning the Master, looking around to see which of his friends were ripe for Release, perceived that these two were ready to enter upon the First Path. Next day he went all alone seeking alms in Savatthi, and stoped before the door of one of them, who came out and took the Master's bowl; then led him within, and offered him a seat. The Master sat, and then enlarged on the profit of cultivating Loving kindness. When he saw the man's mind was ready, he declared the Truths. This done, the other was established in the Fruit of the First Path. Seeing this, the Master persuaded him to take the Bowl; then rising he proceeded to the house of the other. Out came the other, and after salutation given, begged the Master to enter, and gave him a seat. He also took the Master's bowl, and entered along with him. To him the Master lauded the Eleven Blessings of Loving kindness; and perceiving that his heart was ready, declared the Truths. And this done, he too became established in the Fruit of the First Path.
Thus they were both converted; they confessed their faults one to the other, and asked forgiveness; peaceful and. harmonious, they were at one together. That very same day they ate together in the presence of the Blessed One.
His meal over, the Master returned to the monastery. They both returned with him, bearing a rich present of flowers, scents and perfumes, of ghee, honey, and sugar. The Master, having preached of duty before the Brotherhood, and uttered a Buddha's admonition, retired to his scented chamber.
Next morning, the Brethren talked the matter over in the Hall of Truth. "Friend," one would say to another, "our Master subdues the unsubdued. Why, here are these two grand persons, who have been quarrelling all this time, and could not be reconciled by the king himself, or friends and kinsfolk: and the Master has humbled them in a single day!" The Master came in, "What are you talking about," asked he, "as you sit here together?" They told him. Said he, "Brethren, this is not the first time that I have reconciled these two; in bygone ages I reconciled the same two persons." And he told a story of the olden time.
_____________________________
Once on a time, while Brahmadatta was king of Benares, a great multitude gathered together in Benares to keep festival. Crowds of men and of gods, of serpents, and garuda, came together to see the meeting.
It so happened that in one spot a Serpent and a Garuda were watching the goings-on together. The Serpent, not noticing that this was a Garuda beside him, laid a hand on his shoulder. And when the Garuda turned and looked round to see whose hand had been laid upon his shoulder, he saw the Serpent. The Serpent looked too, and saw that this was a Garuda; and frightened to death, he flew off over the surface of a river. The Garuda gave chase, to catch him.
Now the Bodhisatta was a recluse, and lived in a leaf-hut on the river bank. At that time he was trying to keep off the sun's heat by putting on a wet cloth and doffing his garment of bark; and he was bathing in the river. "I will make this recluse," thought the Serpent, "the means of saving my life." Putting off his own proper shape, and assuming the form of a fine jewel, he fixed himself upon the bark garment. The Garuda in full pursuit saw where he had gone; but for very reverence he would not touch the garment; so he thus addressed the Bodhisatta:
"Sir, I am hungry. Look at your bark garment:--in it there is a serpent which I desire to eat." And to make the matter clear, he repeated the first stanza:
"Concealed within a stone this wretched snake
Has taken harbourage for safety's sake.
And yet, in reverence of your holiness,
Though I am hungry, yet I will not take."
Standing where he was in the water, the Bodhisatta said the second stanza in praise of the Garuda king:
"Live long, preserved by Brahma, though pursued,
And may you never lack for heavenly food.
Do not, in reverence of my holiness,
Do not devour him, though in hungry mood."
In these words the Bodhisatta expressed his approval, standing there in the water. Then he came out, and put on his bark garment, and took both creatures with him to his hermitage; where he rehearsed the blessings of Loving kindness until they were both at one. Thenceforward they lived together happily in peace and harmony.
_____________________________
When the Master had ended this discourse, he identified the Birth, saying, "In those days, the two great personages were the Serpent and the Garuda, and I myself was the recluse."
Tradition tells how two soldiers, in the service of the king of Kosala, of high rank, and great persons at court, no sooner caught sight of one another than they used to fall at ill words. Neither king, nor friends, nor kinsfolk could make them agree.
It happened one day that early in the morning the Master, looking around to see which of his friends were ripe for Release, perceived that these two were ready to enter upon the First Path. Next day he went all alone seeking alms in Savatthi, and stoped before the door of one of them, who came out and took the Master's bowl; then led him within, and offered him a seat. The Master sat, and then enlarged on the profit of cultivating Loving kindness. When he saw the man's mind was ready, he declared the Truths. This done, the other was established in the Fruit of the First Path. Seeing this, the Master persuaded him to take the Bowl; then rising he proceeded to the house of the other. Out came the other, and after salutation given, begged the Master to enter, and gave him a seat. He also took the Master's bowl, and entered along with him. To him the Master lauded the Eleven Blessings of Loving kindness; and perceiving that his heart was ready, declared the Truths. And this done, he too became established in the Fruit of the First Path.
Thus they were both converted; they confessed their faults one to the other, and asked forgiveness; peaceful and. harmonious, they were at one together. That very same day they ate together in the presence of the Blessed One.
His meal over, the Master returned to the monastery. They both returned with him, bearing a rich present of flowers, scents and perfumes, of ghee, honey, and sugar. The Master, having preached of duty before the Brotherhood, and uttered a Buddha's admonition, retired to his scented chamber.
Next morning, the Brethren talked the matter over in the Hall of Truth. "Friend," one would say to another, "our Master subdues the unsubdued. Why, here are these two grand persons, who have been quarrelling all this time, and could not be reconciled by the king himself, or friends and kinsfolk: and the Master has humbled them in a single day!" The Master came in, "What are you talking about," asked he, "as you sit here together?" They told him. Said he, "Brethren, this is not the first time that I have reconciled these two; in bygone ages I reconciled the same two persons." And he told a story of the olden time.
_____________________________
Once on a time, while Brahmadatta was king of Benares, a great multitude gathered together in Benares to keep festival. Crowds of men and of gods, of serpents, and garuda, came together to see the meeting.
It so happened that in one spot a Serpent and a Garuda were watching the goings-on together. The Serpent, not noticing that this was a Garuda beside him, laid a hand on his shoulder. And when the Garuda turned and looked round to see whose hand had been laid upon his shoulder, he saw the Serpent. The Serpent looked too, and saw that this was a Garuda; and frightened to death, he flew off over the surface of a river. The Garuda gave chase, to catch him.
Now the Bodhisatta was a recluse, and lived in a leaf-hut on the river bank. At that time he was trying to keep off the sun's heat by putting on a wet cloth and doffing his garment of bark; and he was bathing in the river. "I will make this recluse," thought the Serpent, "the means of saving my life." Putting off his own proper shape, and assuming the form of a fine jewel, he fixed himself upon the bark garment. The Garuda in full pursuit saw where he had gone; but for very reverence he would not touch the garment; so he thus addressed the Bodhisatta:
"Sir, I am hungry. Look at your bark garment:--in it there is a serpent which I desire to eat." And to make the matter clear, he repeated the first stanza:
"Concealed within a stone this wretched snake
Has taken harbourage for safety's sake.
And yet, in reverence of your holiness,
Though I am hungry, yet I will not take."
Standing where he was in the water, the Bodhisatta said the second stanza in praise of the Garuda king:
"Live long, preserved by Brahma, though pursued,
And may you never lack for heavenly food.
Do not, in reverence of my holiness,
Do not devour him, though in hungry mood."
In these words the Bodhisatta expressed his approval, standing there in the water. Then he came out, and put on his bark garment, and took both creatures with him to his hermitage; where he rehearsed the blessings of Loving kindness until they were both at one. Thenceforward they lived together happily in peace and harmony.
_____________________________
When the Master had ended this discourse, he identified the Birth, saying, "In those days, the two great personages were the Serpent and the Garuda, and I myself was the recluse."
SINGHALA-JATAKA
"Who rashly undertakes," etc.--This story the Master told while staying in his gabled chamber, about a barber who lived at Vesali.
This man, as we are told, used to do shaving and hairdressing and cross-plaiting for the royal household, kings and queens, princes and princesses, indeed he did all of that kind that had to be done. He was a true believer, sheltered in the Three Refuges , resolved to keep the Five Precepts; and from time to time he would listen to the Master's discoursing.
One day he set out to do his work in the palace, taking his son with him. The young fellow, seeing a Licchavi girl drest up fine and grand, like a nymph, fell in love for desire of her. He said to his father, as they left the palace in company, "There is a girl--if I get her, I shall live; but if I don't, there's nothing but death for me." He would not touch a morsel of food, but lay down hugging the bedstead. His father found him and said, "Why, son, don't set your mind on forbidden fruit. You are a nobody--a barber's son; this Licchavi girl is a highborn lady. You're no match for her. I'll find you somebody else; a girl of your own place and station." But the lad would not listen to him. Then came mother, brother, and sister, aunt and uncle, all his kinsfolk, and all his friends and companions, trying to pacify him; but pacify him they could not. So he pined and pined away, and lay there until he died.
Then the father performed his obsequies, and did what is usual to do for the spirits of the dead. By and by, when the first edge of grief had worn off, he thought he would wait upon the Master. Taking a large present of flowers, scents, and perfumes, he repaired to Mahavana, and did reverence to the Master, saluted him, and sat down on one side. "Why have you kept out of sight all this time, layman?" the Master asked. Then the man told him what had happened. Said the Master, "Ah, layman, 'tis not the first time he has perished by setting his heart on what he must not have; this is only what he has done before." Then at the layman's request, he told a story of the olden time.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, while Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta came into the world as a young Lion in the region of Himalaya. Of the same family there were some younger brothers, and one sister; and all of them lived in a Golden Cave.
Now hard by this cave was a Cave of Crystal on a silver hill, where a Jackal lived. By and by the Lions lost their parents by the stroke of death. Then they used to leave the Lioness, their sister, behind in the cave, while they ranged for food; which when they obtained, they would bring it back for her to eat.
Now the Jackal had caught sight of this Lioness, and fell in love with her; but while the old Lion and Lioness lived, he could win no access. Now, when the seven brothers went to seek food, out he came from his Crystal Cave, and made all haste to the Golden Cave; where, taking his stand before the young Lioness, he addressed her slily with these seductive and tempting words:
"O Lioness, I am a fourfoot creature, and so are you. Therefore do you be my mate, and I will be your husband! We will live together in friendship and amity, and you shall love me always!"
Now on hearing this the Lioness thought to herself, "This Jackal here is mean amongst beasts, vile, and like a man of low caste: but I am esteemed to be one of royal issue. That he to me should so speak is unseemly and evil. How can I live after hearing such things said? I will hold my breath until I shall die."--Then, bethinking her awhile, "Nay," quoth she, "to die so would not be comely. My brothers will soon be home again; I will tell them first, and then I will put an end to myself."
The Jackal, finding that no answer came, felt sure she cared nothing for him; so back he went to his Crystal Cave, and lay down in much misery.
Now one of the young Lions, having killed a buffalo, or an elephant, or what not, himself ate some of it, and brought back a share for his sister, which he gave her, inviting her to eat. "No, brother," says she, "not a bite will I eat; for I must die!" "Why must that be?" he asked. And she told him what had happened. "Where is this Jackal now?" he asked. She saw him lying in the Crystal Cave, and thinking he was up in the sky, she said, "Why, brother, cannot you see him there on Silver Mountain, lying up in the sky?" The young Lion, unaware that the Jackal lay in a Crystal Cave, and deeming that he was truly in the sky, made a spring, as lions do, to kill him, and struck against the crystal: which burst his heart asunder, and falling to the foot of the mountain, he perished straightway.
Then came in another, to whom the Lioness told the same tale. This Lion did even as the first, and fell dead by the mountain foot.
When six of the brother Lions had perished in this way, last of all entered the Bodhisatta. When she had told her story, he enquired where was the Jackal now? "There he is," said she, "up in the sky, above Silver Mountain!" The Bodhisatta thought--"Jackals lying in the sky? nonsense. I know what it is: he is lying in a Crystal Cave." So he repaired to the mountain's foot, and there he saw his six brothers lying dead. "I see how it is," thought he; "these were all foolish, and lacked the fulness of wisdom; not knowing that this is the Crystal Cave, they beat their hearts out against it, and were killed. This is what comes of acting in rashness without due reflection;" and he repeated the first stanza:--
"Who rashly undertakes an enterprise,
Not counting all the issue may arise,
Like one who burns his mouth in eating food
Falls victim to the plans he did devise."
After repeating these lines, the Lion continued: "My brothers wanted to kill this Jackal, but knew not how to lay their plans cleverly; so they leapt up too quickly at him, and so came by their death. This I will not do; but I will make the Jackal burst his own heart as he lies there in the Crystal Cave." So he espied out the path whereby the Jackal used to go up and down, and turning that way he roared thrice the lions roar, that earth and heaven together were all one great roaring! The Jackal lying in the Crystal Cave was frightened and astounded, so that his heart burst; and he perished on the spot incontinently.
_____________________________
The Master continued, "Thus did this Jackal perish on hearing the Lion roar." And becoming perfectly enlightened, he repeated the second stanza:--
On Daddara the Lion gave a roar,
And made Mount Daddara resound again.
Hard by a Jackal lived; he feared full sore
To hear the sound, and burst his heart in twain.
_____________________________
Thus did our Lion do this Jackal to death. Then he laid his brothers together in one grave, and told the sister they were dead, and comforted her; and he lived the rest of his days in the Golden Cave, until he passed away to the place which his merits had earned for him.
_____________________________
When the Master had ended this discourse, he revealed the Truths, and identified the Birth:--at the conclusion of the Truths, the layman was established in the Fruit of the First Path:--"The barber's son of to-day was then the Jackal; the Licchavi girl was the young Lioness; the six younger Lions are now six Elders; and I myself am the eldest Lion."
This man, as we are told, used to do shaving and hairdressing and cross-plaiting for the royal household, kings and queens, princes and princesses, indeed he did all of that kind that had to be done. He was a true believer, sheltered in the Three Refuges , resolved to keep the Five Precepts; and from time to time he would listen to the Master's discoursing.
One day he set out to do his work in the palace, taking his son with him. The young fellow, seeing a Licchavi girl drest up fine and grand, like a nymph, fell in love for desire of her. He said to his father, as they left the palace in company, "There is a girl--if I get her, I shall live; but if I don't, there's nothing but death for me." He would not touch a morsel of food, but lay down hugging the bedstead. His father found him and said, "Why, son, don't set your mind on forbidden fruit. You are a nobody--a barber's son; this Licchavi girl is a highborn lady. You're no match for her. I'll find you somebody else; a girl of your own place and station." But the lad would not listen to him. Then came mother, brother, and sister, aunt and uncle, all his kinsfolk, and all his friends and companions, trying to pacify him; but pacify him they could not. So he pined and pined away, and lay there until he died.
Then the father performed his obsequies, and did what is usual to do for the spirits of the dead. By and by, when the first edge of grief had worn off, he thought he would wait upon the Master. Taking a large present of flowers, scents, and perfumes, he repaired to Mahavana, and did reverence to the Master, saluted him, and sat down on one side. "Why have you kept out of sight all this time, layman?" the Master asked. Then the man told him what had happened. Said the Master, "Ah, layman, 'tis not the first time he has perished by setting his heart on what he must not have; this is only what he has done before." Then at the layman's request, he told a story of the olden time.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, while Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta came into the world as a young Lion in the region of Himalaya. Of the same family there were some younger brothers, and one sister; and all of them lived in a Golden Cave.
Now hard by this cave was a Cave of Crystal on a silver hill, where a Jackal lived. By and by the Lions lost their parents by the stroke of death. Then they used to leave the Lioness, their sister, behind in the cave, while they ranged for food; which when they obtained, they would bring it back for her to eat.
Now the Jackal had caught sight of this Lioness, and fell in love with her; but while the old Lion and Lioness lived, he could win no access. Now, when the seven brothers went to seek food, out he came from his Crystal Cave, and made all haste to the Golden Cave; where, taking his stand before the young Lioness, he addressed her slily with these seductive and tempting words:
"O Lioness, I am a fourfoot creature, and so are you. Therefore do you be my mate, and I will be your husband! We will live together in friendship and amity, and you shall love me always!"
Now on hearing this the Lioness thought to herself, "This Jackal here is mean amongst beasts, vile, and like a man of low caste: but I am esteemed to be one of royal issue. That he to me should so speak is unseemly and evil. How can I live after hearing such things said? I will hold my breath until I shall die."--Then, bethinking her awhile, "Nay," quoth she, "to die so would not be comely. My brothers will soon be home again; I will tell them first, and then I will put an end to myself."
The Jackal, finding that no answer came, felt sure she cared nothing for him; so back he went to his Crystal Cave, and lay down in much misery.
Now one of the young Lions, having killed a buffalo, or an elephant, or what not, himself ate some of it, and brought back a share for his sister, which he gave her, inviting her to eat. "No, brother," says she, "not a bite will I eat; for I must die!" "Why must that be?" he asked. And she told him what had happened. "Where is this Jackal now?" he asked. She saw him lying in the Crystal Cave, and thinking he was up in the sky, she said, "Why, brother, cannot you see him there on Silver Mountain, lying up in the sky?" The young Lion, unaware that the Jackal lay in a Crystal Cave, and deeming that he was truly in the sky, made a spring, as lions do, to kill him, and struck against the crystal: which burst his heart asunder, and falling to the foot of the mountain, he perished straightway.
Then came in another, to whom the Lioness told the same tale. This Lion did even as the first, and fell dead by the mountain foot.
When six of the brother Lions had perished in this way, last of all entered the Bodhisatta. When she had told her story, he enquired where was the Jackal now? "There he is," said she, "up in the sky, above Silver Mountain!" The Bodhisatta thought--"Jackals lying in the sky? nonsense. I know what it is: he is lying in a Crystal Cave." So he repaired to the mountain's foot, and there he saw his six brothers lying dead. "I see how it is," thought he; "these were all foolish, and lacked the fulness of wisdom; not knowing that this is the Crystal Cave, they beat their hearts out against it, and were killed. This is what comes of acting in rashness without due reflection;" and he repeated the first stanza:--
"Who rashly undertakes an enterprise,
Not counting all the issue may arise,
Like one who burns his mouth in eating food
Falls victim to the plans he did devise."
After repeating these lines, the Lion continued: "My brothers wanted to kill this Jackal, but knew not how to lay their plans cleverly; so they leapt up too quickly at him, and so came by their death. This I will not do; but I will make the Jackal burst his own heart as he lies there in the Crystal Cave." So he espied out the path whereby the Jackal used to go up and down, and turning that way he roared thrice the lions roar, that earth and heaven together were all one great roaring! The Jackal lying in the Crystal Cave was frightened and astounded, so that his heart burst; and he perished on the spot incontinently.
_____________________________
The Master continued, "Thus did this Jackal perish on hearing the Lion roar." And becoming perfectly enlightened, he repeated the second stanza:--
On Daddara the Lion gave a roar,
And made Mount Daddara resound again.
Hard by a Jackal lived; he feared full sore
To hear the sound, and burst his heart in twain.
_____________________________
Thus did our Lion do this Jackal to death. Then he laid his brothers together in one grave, and told the sister they were dead, and comforted her; and he lived the rest of his days in the Golden Cave, until he passed away to the place which his merits had earned for him.
_____________________________
When the Master had ended this discourse, he revealed the Truths, and identified the Birth:--at the conclusion of the Truths, the layman was established in the Fruit of the First Path:--"The barber's son of to-day was then the Jackal; the Licchavi girl was the young Lioness; the six younger Lions are now six Elders; and I myself am the eldest Lion."
RAJOVADA-JATAKA
"Rough
to the rough," etc.--This story the Great Buddha told whilst he was
living in Jetavana, to explain how a king was taught a lesson.
It is said that one day the king of Kosala had just passed sentence in a very difficult case involving moral wrong. After his meal, with hands not yet dry, he proceeded in his splendid chariot to visit the Master; and the king saluted him, his feet beautiful like the open lotus flower, and sat down aside.
Then the Master addressed him in these words. "Why, my lord king, what brings you here at this time of day?" "Sir," said he, "I missed my time because I was sitting on a difficult case, involving moral wrong; now I have finished it, and eaten, and here I am, with my hands hardly dry, to wait upon you." "My lord king," replied the Master, "to judge a cause with justice and impartiality is the right thing; that is the way to heaven. Now when you first have the advice of a being all-wise like me, it is no wonder if you should judge your case fairly and justly; but the wonder is when kings have only had the advice of scholars who are not all-wise, and yet have decided fairly and justly, avoiding the Four Ways of Wickedness, and observing the Ten Royal Virtues, and after ruling justly have gone to swell the hosts of heaven." Then, at the king's request, he told a story of the olden time.
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta was conceived by his Queen Consort; and the ceremonies proper to her state having been duly done, she was afterwards safely delivered. On his name-day, the name they gave him was Prince Brahmadatta.
It is said that one day the king of Kosala had just passed sentence in a very difficult case involving moral wrong. After his meal, with hands not yet dry, he proceeded in his splendid chariot to visit the Master; and the king saluted him, his feet beautiful like the open lotus flower, and sat down aside.
Then the Master addressed him in these words. "Why, my lord king, what brings you here at this time of day?" "Sir," said he, "I missed my time because I was sitting on a difficult case, involving moral wrong; now I have finished it, and eaten, and here I am, with my hands hardly dry, to wait upon you." "My lord king," replied the Master, "to judge a cause with justice and impartiality is the right thing; that is the way to heaven. Now when you first have the advice of a being all-wise like me, it is no wonder if you should judge your case fairly and justly; but the wonder is when kings have only had the advice of scholars who are not all-wise, and yet have decided fairly and justly, avoiding the Four Ways of Wickedness, and observing the Ten Royal Virtues, and after ruling justly have gone to swell the hosts of heaven." Then, at the king's request, he told a story of the olden time.
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta was conceived by his Queen Consort; and the ceremonies proper to her state having been duly done, she was afterwards safely delivered. On his name-day, the name they gave him was Prince Brahmadatta.
In
course of time, he grew up, and at sixteen years went to Takkasila for
his education; where he mastered all branches of learning, and on his
father's death he became king in his stead, and ruled with uprightness
and all rectitude, administering justice with no regard had to his own
will or whim. And as he ruled thus justly, his ministers on their part
were also just; thus, while all things were justly done, there was none
who brought a false suit into court. Presently all the bustle of suitors
ceased within the precincts of the palace; all day long the ministers
might sit on the bench, and go away without seeing a single suitor. The
courts were deserted.
Then
the Bodhisatta thought to himself, "Because of my just government not
one suitor comes to try issue in court; the old hubbub is quiet; the
courts of law are deserted. Now I must search whether I have any fault
in me; which if I find, I will eschew it, and live a good life
hereafter." From that time he tried continually to find some one who
would tell him of a fault; but of all who were about him at court he
could not find one such; nothing could he hear but good of himself.
"Perhaps," thought he, "they are all so much afraid of me that they say
no ill of me but only good," and so he went about to try those who were
outside his walls. But with these it was just the same. Then he made
inquisition of the citizens at large, and outside the city questioned
those who belonged to the suburbs at the four city gates. Still there
was none who had any fault to find; nothing but praises could he hear.
Lastly, with intent to try the country side, he entrusted all government
to his ministers, and mounted in his carriage, and taking only the
driver with him, left the city in disguise. All the country he
traversed, even to the frontier; but not a faultfinder could he light
upon; all he could hear was only his own praises. So back he turned from
the marches, and set his face homewards again by the highroad.
Now
it fortuned that at this very time Mallika, the king of Kosala, had
done the very same thing. He too was a just king, and he had been
searching for his faults; but amongst those about him there was none who
had any fault to find; and hearing nothing but praise, he had been
making enquiry throughout all the country, and had but then arrived at
that same spot.
These
two met, in a place where the carriage-road was deeply sunk between two
banks, and there was no room for one carriage to pass another.
Get your carriage out of the way!" said king Mallika's driver to the driver of the king of Benares.
"No,
no, driver," said he, "out of the way with yours! Know that in this
carriage sits the great monarch Brahmadatta, lord of the kingdom of
Benares!"
"Not
so, driver!" replied the other, "in this carriage sits the great king
Mallika, lord of the realm of Kosala! It is for you to make way, and to
give place to the carriage of our king!"
"Why,
here's a king too," thought the driver of the king of Benares. "What in
the world is to be done?" Then a thought struck him; he would enquire
what should be the age of the two kings, so that the younger should give
way to the elder. And he made enquiry of the other driver how old his
king was; but he learnt that both were of the same age. Thereupon he
asked the extent of this king's power, wealth, and glory, and all points
touching his caste and clan and his family; discovering that both of
them had a country three hundred leagues long, and that they were alike
in power, wealth, glory, and the nature of their family and lineage.
Then he bethought him that place might be given to the better man; so he
requested that the other driver should describe his master's virtues.
The man replied by the first verse of poetry following, in which he set
forth his monarch's faults as though they were so many virtues:--
"Rough to the rough, king Mallika the mild with mildness sways,
Masters the good by goodness, and the bad with badness pays.
Give place, give place, O driver! such are this monarch's ways!"
"Oh,"
said the man of the king of Benares, "is that all you have to say about
your king's virtues?" "Yes," said the other.--"If these are his
virtues, what must his vices be?" "Vices be it, then," quoth he, "if you
will; but let us hear what your king's virtues may be like!" "Listen
then," rejoined the first, and repeated the second verse:--
"He conquers wrath by mildness, the bad with goodness sways,
By gifts the miser vanquishes and lies with truth repays.
Give place, give place, O driver! such are this monarch's ways!"
At
these words both king Mallika and his driver descended from their
carriage, and loosed the horses, and moved it out of the way, to give
place to the king of Benares. Then the king of Benares gave good
admonition to king Mallika, saying, "Thus and thus must you do;" after
which he returned to Benares, and there gave alms and did good all his
life, till at the last the went to swell the hosts of heaven. And king
Mallika took the lesson to heart; and after traversing the length and
breadth of the land,
and lighting upon none who had any fault to find, returned to his own
city; where he gave alms all his life and did good, till at the end he
too went to swell the hosts of heaven.
When
the Great Buddha had ended this discourse, which he began for the
purpose of giving a lesson to the king of Kosala, he identified the
Birth: "Moggallana was then the driver of king Mallika, Ananda was the
king, Sariputta was the driver of the king of Benares, but I myself was
the king."
Carvings at Ellora cave 32.
Carvings from Jain Cave 32.
Ellora Cave 29 - Goddess Yamuna!!!!
According to Hindu religion a very famous king Bhagiratha did Tapasya for many years constantly to bring the river Ganges, then residing in the Heavens, down on the Earth to find salvation for his ancestors, who were cursed by a seer. Therefore, Ganges descended to the Earth through the lock of hair (Jata) of god Shiva to make whole earth pious, fertile and wash out the sins of humans. For Hindus in India, the Ganges is not just a river but a mother, a goddess, a tradition, a culture and much more.
Ellora Cave 29 Shiv Parvati Marriage!
The Carving presents the marriage of Shiva and Parvati. You can see here the gods are present for marriage ceremony. Brahma is doing the vedic chanting. Shiva is holding hand of parvati.
Hindu wedding Ceremonies are traditionally conducted at least partially in Sanskrit, the language in which most holy Hindu ceremonies are conducted. The local language of the people involved is also used since most Hindus cannot understand Sanskrit. They have many rituals that have evolved since traditional times and differ in many ways from the modern western wedding ceremony and also among the different regions, families, and castes weddings. The Hindus attach a lot of importance to marriages and the ceremonies are very colorful and extend for several days.
Ellora Cave 29 - Dumar Leni - Sita ki Nahani.
This carving of Shiva - Parvati is associated with story.......
According to Hinduism, Lord Shiva, the destroyer of evil and sorrow, resides at the summit of a legendary mountain named Kailasa, where he sits in a state of perpetual meditation along with his wife Parvati, the daughter of Himalaya.
Ravana is a character in Hindu mythology, who is the primary antagonist of the Hindu historical epic, the Ramayana. In the classic text, he is mainly depicted negatively, who infamously kidnapped Rama's wife Sita.
This depiction is, however, open to other interpretations. Ravana is a great scholar, a capable ruler, a player of the veena and a devoted follower of Shiva, and he has his apologists and staunch devotees within the Hindu traditions. The symbolic meaning of "10 headed" is that he is guided by and does not have control over by the five senses and five bodily instruments of action.
His counterpart, Rama, on the contrary, is always in full control of these ten. An alternative interpretation is that he possessed a very thorough knowledge in the 4 vedas, and 6 upanishadas, which made him as powerful as 10 scholars.
Ravana also authored Ravana Sanhita, a powerful book on the Hindu astrology, also known as Lal Kitab. Ravana possessed a thorough knowledge of Ayurveda and political science. He is said to have possessed the nectar of immortality, which was stored under his navel, thanks to a celestial boon by Brahma.
The largest and most important rock-cut temple, Kailash Temple at Ellora, Maharashtra is named after Mount Kailash. Many of its sculptures and reliefs depict episodes relating to Lord Shiva and Maa Parvati, including Ravana's tale. (Ravana was a devotee of Lord Siva. Ramayana does not document Ravan shaking Kailasa mountain.) Ravana's mother had fallen ill, as they were great Lord Shiva devotees, he had attempted to carry the Mount Kailasa on his back to bring it closer to his mother. Shiva being stunned by his bravoure, had blessed him with immortality as Ravana had passed Lord Shiva's test on devotion.
In above carving you can see the 10 Face of Ravana with multiple hands trying to pick up the seat of Shiva-Parvati and other people. But when he was about to getup, Shiva who never wanted to go with him, touched the earth. The bond between Earth and shiva became heavy for Ravana to breakup, he could not pickup the Mount. Shiva blessed him for his devotion.
You can also see the left side of the Ravan, where there are dwarfs are carved and they are laugh at Ravana when he fail to lift the Mount Kailasa.
According to Hinduism, Lord Shiva, the destroyer of evil and sorrow, resides at the summit of a legendary mountain named Kailasa, where he sits in a state of perpetual meditation along with his wife Parvati, the daughter of Himalaya.
Ravana is a character in Hindu mythology, who is the primary antagonist of the Hindu historical epic, the Ramayana. In the classic text, he is mainly depicted negatively, who infamously kidnapped Rama's wife Sita.
This depiction is, however, open to other interpretations. Ravana is a great scholar, a capable ruler, a player of the veena and a devoted follower of Shiva, and he has his apologists and staunch devotees within the Hindu traditions. The symbolic meaning of "10 headed" is that he is guided by and does not have control over by the five senses and five bodily instruments of action.
His counterpart, Rama, on the contrary, is always in full control of these ten. An alternative interpretation is that he possessed a very thorough knowledge in the 4 vedas, and 6 upanishadas, which made him as powerful as 10 scholars.
Ravana also authored Ravana Sanhita, a powerful book on the Hindu astrology, also known as Lal Kitab. Ravana possessed a thorough knowledge of Ayurveda and political science. He is said to have possessed the nectar of immortality, which was stored under his navel, thanks to a celestial boon by Brahma.
The largest and most important rock-cut temple, Kailash Temple at Ellora, Maharashtra is named after Mount Kailash. Many of its sculptures and reliefs depict episodes relating to Lord Shiva and Maa Parvati, including Ravana's tale. (Ravana was a devotee of Lord Siva. Ramayana does not document Ravan shaking Kailasa mountain.) Ravana's mother had fallen ill, as they were great Lord Shiva devotees, he had attempted to carry the Mount Kailasa on his back to bring it closer to his mother. Shiva being stunned by his bravoure, had blessed him with immortality as Ravana had passed Lord Shiva's test on devotion.
In above carving you can see the 10 Face of Ravana with multiple hands trying to pick up the seat of Shiva-Parvati and other people. But when he was about to getup, Shiva who never wanted to go with him, touched the earth. The bond between Earth and shiva became heavy for Ravana to breakup, he could not pickup the Mount. Shiva blessed him for his devotion.
You can also see the left side of the Ravan, where there are dwarfs are carved and they are laugh at Ravana when he fail to lift the Mount Kailasa.
Ellora Cave 29 - Shiva-Parvati - Playing Game Saripat ( Indian - Chess)
Shiva & Parvati - Playing Game Saripat ( Indian - Chess)
Story associated with is......
As usual gods are no seperate than human being.... Husband Shiva is playing with wife Parvati the game of Dice - in Marathi is called Saripat, in Hindi this is called as Chaturaji.
Always shiva use to win this game, to defeat him Pravati playe trick. but she was caught and shiva teased her of her cheating.
In above carving you can see that the game is placed in between them and Shiva holds hand of Goddess parvati for cheating. Every one is watching them. God's around them are laughing.
The bottom section displays the Nandi -
Vehicle of Shiva: The bull Nandi is Shiva's primary vehicle and is the principal gana (follower) of Shiva.
Gate keeper of Shiva's abode: The close association of Shiva and Nandi explains the presence of a statue of Nandi at the gate of many temples dedicated to Siva. It also explains why the word "nandi" in the Kannada, Telugu and Tamil languages is used as a metaphor for a person blocking the way. In Sanskrit, a bull is called "vrisha", which has another connotation - that of righteousness or Dharma. It is important to seek the blessings of Nandi before proceeding to worship Lord Shiva.
Chief in Shiva's army: Some Puranas mention that Nandi lead the Shiva Ganas, Shiva's attendants.
From the yogic perspective, Nandi/Nandhi/ Nandikeshvara is the mind dedicated to Lord Siva, the Absolute. In other words, to understand and absorb Light, the 'experience and the wisdom' is Nandi which is the Guru within.
About Sari-pat Game- This is referred as god Shiva’s favorite game. It’s a cross with four pans on each sides and squire at center. Each pan contains 5 blocks (called house) in two rows. with tow dices marked number of grooves to indicate numbers is used to place marker in that particular house. penalties and points are gained in this way.
Another version of the Saripat - Chaturaji (means "four kings", also known as "Choupat") a four player chess-like game. It was first described in detail circa 1030 by Biruni in his India book. Originally, this was a game of chance: the pieces to be moved were decided by rolling two dice. A diceless variant of the game was still played in India at the close of the 19th century.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chaturaji
Yakshini - Ellora Cave 17 -1
This is photo of a "Yakshini"(Yakshinis (Sanskrit: याक्षिणि, also called yaksinis or yaksis and yakkhini in Pali) are mythical beings of Hindu, Buddhist, and Jain mythology.)
A yakshini is the female counterpart of the male yaksha, and they both attend on Kubera (also called Kuber), the Hindu god of wealth who rules in the mythical Himalayan kingdom of Alaka. They both look after treasure hidden in the earth and resemble that of fairies. Yakshinis are often depicted as beautiful and voluptuous, with wide hips, narrow waists, broad shoulders, and exaggerated, spherical breasts.
In the Uddamareshvara Tantra, thirty-six yakshinis are described, including their mantras and ritual prescriptions. A similar list of yakshas and yakshinis is given in the Tantraraja Tantra, where it says that these beings are givers of whatever is desired. Although Yakshinis are usually benevolent, there are also yakshinis with malevolent characteristics in Indian folklore.
The earliest images of women in India are a set of Mauryan period figurines. These figures are not the first art objects to represent the feminine. Leaving aside the figures of the Harappan civilization which appear to be stylistically and culturally unconnected with anything in the historic period, there are terracotta images, believed to represent fertility or mother goddess figures. These are not images, they are symbols. They do not pretend to represent the physical impression of the female form.
The Mauryan figures are directly linked to these early fertility figures. The idea of producing an image of women in plastic arts clearly arose during the fourth and third centuries.
Only evidence for it comes from the region of Patna at the heart of the Mauryan Empire so it is assumed that the impetus probably came from the court artists of that period and locality, but we lack evidence to say for certain. The artists had several options in these early figures (fateful choices, as they would set the pattern for Indian female images for a millenia); they could copy the image of some other society, such as China, Greece or Iran; they could produce a naturalistic image from life; of they could modify a local tradition.
They choose the third. The Mauryan terracotta girls are the ancient fertility figures transformed from symbol to image. Large breasts, wide hips, tapering legs, are all retained but now the artists no longer symbolize the feminine, they now attempt to represent it.
Ellora Caves - :-
This is an archaeological site near Verul village, Tq Khultabad, Dist Aurangabad. 30 km (19 mi) from the city of Aurangabad in the Indian state of Maharashtra. These caves are carved in 500 Years by generations of the carvers. In and around time frame of Rashtrakuta rulers. Well-known for its monumental caves, Ellora is a World Heritage Site.[1] Ellora represents the epitome of Indian rock-cut architecture. These are 34 "caves" – actually structures excavated out of the vertical face of the Charanandri hills – being Buddhist, Hindu and Jain rock cut temples and monasteries. These were built between the 5th century and 10th century. The 12 Buddhist (caves 1–12), 17 Hindu (caves 13–29) and 5 Jain (caves 30–34) caves, built in proximity, demonstrate the religious harmony prevalent during this period of Indian history.
In the time domain 500BC to 300 BC the village Verul was close to the business route from Paithan to the Ujjain. All the business caravans use to pass near this site.
Information about Paithan :
Paithan formerly Pratishthana, the city was the capital of the Sa-tava-hana empire of ancient India that ruled from 2nd century BC to 2nd century AD. It is one of the few inland towns mentioned in the famous 1st century AD Greek book, Periplus Maris Erytharaei. Paithan is located 56 km south of present-day Aurangabad on the Godavari River in Maharashtra. The town is mostly famous today for its sarees — the Paithani beautiful silk saris which sport intricately embroidered gold or silver borders.
Information about Ujjain :
Ujjain (also known as Ujjain, Ujjayini, Avanti, Avantikapuri), is an ancient city of Malwa region in central India, on the eastern bank of the Kshipra River (today part of the state of Madhya Pradesh). It is the administrative centre of Ujjain District and Ujjain Division.
In ancient times the city was called Ujjayini. As mentioned in the Mahabharata epic, Ujjayini was the capital of the Avanti Kingdom, and has been the Prime Meridian for Hindu geographers since the 4th century BCE. Ujjain is one of the seven sacred cities(Sapta puri) of the Hindus, and the Kumbh Mela religious festival is held there every 12 years. It is also home to Mahakaleshwar Jyotirlinga, one of the twelve Jyotirlinga shrines to the god Shiva and is also the place where Lord Krishna got education with Balarama and Sudama from Maharshi Sandipani. According to the Puranas, the city of Ujjain was called Avantika and was famous for its beauty and its devotional epicenter. It was also one of the primary cities where students went to study holy scriptures.
Information about Grishneshwar:
Grishneshwar, also known as Ghushmeshwar, is a famous Hindu temple dedicated to Lord Shiva and is one of the twelve Jyotirlingas, the sacred abodes of Shiva. The temple is located eleven km from Daulatabad, near Aurangabad in Maharashtra India. The temple is located near the famous Ellora Caves.
Pilgrim Path : From Grishneshwar to Mahakaleshwar was also present in the old time. Thus the importance to this place was very high.
It's been observed that the Buddhist caves are old than rest of the caves, if we compare the period of development. Buddhist caves were monasteries, In my opinion most of the time the carvings and paintings are done by the Buddhist monks. As this was normal style to remember the god. It's possible that this practice of Buddhist monks may have been adopted/learned by the next generation carvers.
The donations from kings, regional rulers, rich people and travelers was used for livelihood of the sculptors. One generation of the sculptors might have developed the next generations.
It's been explained that the 10 generations of the sculptors were working to carve the "Kailas Leni" (Cave 16 of Ellora) for 200 years.
This is an archaeological site near Verul village, Tq Khultabad, Dist Aurangabad. 30 km (19 mi) from the city of Aurangabad in the Indian state of Maharashtra. These caves are carved in 500 Years by generations of the carvers. In and around time frame of Rashtrakuta rulers. Well-known for its monumental caves, Ellora is a World Heritage Site.[1] Ellora represents the epitome of Indian rock-cut architecture. These are 34 "caves" – actually structures excavated out of the vertical face of the Charanandri hills – being Buddhist, Hindu and Jain rock cut temples and monasteries. These were built between the 5th century and 10th century. The 12 Buddhist (caves 1–12), 17 Hindu (caves 13–29) and 5 Jain (caves 30–34) caves, built in proximity, demonstrate the religious harmony prevalent during this period of Indian history.
In the time domain 500BC to 300 BC the village Verul was close to the business route from Paithan to the Ujjain. All the business caravans use to pass near this site.
Information about Paithan :
Paithan formerly Pratishthana, the city was the capital of the Sa-tava-hana empire of ancient India that ruled from 2nd century BC to 2nd century AD. It is one of the few inland towns mentioned in the famous 1st century AD Greek book, Periplus Maris Erytharaei. Paithan is located 56 km south of present-day Aurangabad on the Godavari River in Maharashtra. The town is mostly famous today for its sarees — the Paithani beautiful silk saris which sport intricately embroidered gold or silver borders.
Information about Ujjain :
Ujjain (also known as Ujjain, Ujjayini, Avanti, Avantikapuri), is an ancient city of Malwa region in central India, on the eastern bank of the Kshipra River (today part of the state of Madhya Pradesh). It is the administrative centre of Ujjain District and Ujjain Division.
In ancient times the city was called Ujjayini. As mentioned in the Mahabharata epic, Ujjayini was the capital of the Avanti Kingdom, and has been the Prime Meridian for Hindu geographers since the 4th century BCE. Ujjain is one of the seven sacred cities(Sapta puri) of the Hindus, and the Kumbh Mela religious festival is held there every 12 years. It is also home to Mahakaleshwar Jyotirlinga, one of the twelve Jyotirlinga shrines to the god Shiva and is also the place where Lord Krishna got education with Balarama and Sudama from Maharshi Sandipani. According to the Puranas, the city of Ujjain was called Avantika and was famous for its beauty and its devotional epicenter. It was also one of the primary cities where students went to study holy scriptures.
Information about Grishneshwar:
Grishneshwar, also known as Ghushmeshwar, is a famous Hindu temple dedicated to Lord Shiva and is one of the twelve Jyotirlingas, the sacred abodes of Shiva. The temple is located eleven km from Daulatabad, near Aurangabad in Maharashtra India. The temple is located near the famous Ellora Caves.
Pilgrim Path : From Grishneshwar to Mahakaleshwar was also present in the old time. Thus the importance to this place was very high.
It's been observed that the Buddhist caves are old than rest of the caves, if we compare the period of development. Buddhist caves were monasteries, In my opinion most of the time the carvings and paintings are done by the Buddhist monks. As this was normal style to remember the god. It's possible that this practice of Buddhist monks may have been adopted/learned by the next generation carvers.
The donations from kings, regional rulers, rich people and travelers was used for livelihood of the sculptors. One generation of the sculptors might have developed the next generations.
It's been explained that the 10 generations of the sculptors were working to carve the "Kailas Leni" (Cave 16 of Ellora) for 200 years.
Shiva the mighty God.
In india there are so many cults in Hindu religion, and the oldest we see is the Shiva and Shakti.
Shiva is usually worshipped in the abstract form of Shiva linga. In images, he is generally represented as immersed in deep meditation or dancing the Tandava upon Maya, the demon of ignorance in his manifestation of Nataraja, the lord of the dance.
As per my knowledge the
most powerful is Shiva cult. why this become more powerful? No one have
the precise answer for this.Let me know your views.
Depiction of the Hindu god Shiva as the cosmic dancer who performs his divine dance to destroy a weary universe and make preparations for god Brahma to start the process of creation. Nataraja is most often depicted through a statue.
The sculpture depicts, with Shiva dancing in an aureole of flames, lifting his left leg (and in rare cases, the right leg) and balancing over a demon or dwarf (Apasmara) who symbolizes ignorance. It is a well known sculptural symbol in India and popularly used as a symbol of Indian culture.
The two most common forms of Shiva's dance are the Lasya (the gentle form of dance), associated with the creation of the world, and the Tandava (the violent and dangerous dance), associated with the destruction of weary worldviews - weary perspectives & lifestyles. In essence, the Lasya and the Tandava are just two aspects of Shiva's nature; for he destroys in order to create, tearing down to build again.
elation to Parmaras of DHAR
The is originated from Nimb Raj. I ( Naik )Nimbalkar. As The name
is Nimb- Raja tells that he was the king of the region of Nimbal. Nimbal
is small town near Vijapur (Karnataka – May be Bijapur).
After
last king of the Parmaras (Rajput Dynasty of the Ujjain) – Mahalik Dev
Ray Parmar there is little trace for his descendants who went in hiding
to south India. This happened when Barbarous Allauddin Khilji ( Ruler of
Delhi ) attacked Ujjain in around 1230 AD. Nimbalkar Claims themselves
descendant of the Parmara ruler.
After this in
1275 Devgiri near Aurangabad (Maharashtra) perished by malik kafur.
There was some resistance to muslim rulers by the New muslims. The great
man Nimbraj was put against this resistance. He killed 10,000 new
muslims and he was awarded the title ‘Raja’ – King of the region and he
accepted Phaltan as his base. The muslim ruler was said to be descendant
of Muhhammad tughlak.
The family proclaimed
many times independence, even though they were subordinate to Vijapur
muslim sultanat. The family members had been instrumental in Maharashtra
- India politics since last 1000 years.
As
first independence was proclaimed by Jagpala ( alias Vangpala or
Vangoji) Naik Nimbalkar (Raja of Phaltan 1550 AD around) who was brother
of grandmother of the great ‘Chatrapati Shivaji I’.
The
second time the independence was proclaimed by Mudhoji Naik Nimbalkar
the Father in law of ‘Chatrapati Shivaji I’ (Raja of Phaltan 1635 AD
around).
The Family was so powerful in Maratha
politics that the one of the descendant of the Family – Haibatrao Raje
Nimbalkar - at the time of Shahu (The grand son of the great Shivaji I )
Joined the Nijams of the Hydrabad and played politics to get the
Khandesh share to new Maratha rulers of DHAR and Badoda. (This was mungi
shvgaon treaty).
Family Name Origion
Nimbalkars :- Parmar Rajputs...
Parmar - Powar - Pawar are the same.
First Nimbalkar is Nimbraj
When we get the Name Dharapat - This indicates - Lord of Dhar.
When we get the Name Powara - This indicates - From the line of Powar
This gives Indication that Family originated from Dhar.
Naik
is the Degree hold by the kings in the Era of the King
HarshaVardhan.(Another degrees Khut, Mukadam - Don't think these are
simple (Khut =Deshmukh) (Mukadam = Mukhya Adami = Patil))
If First Nimbraj Kills 10,000 New Muslims he gets
area of revenue 3,00,000/- Hones ( 3Lakhs); As he helped to ruler.
He was awarded Raje Title.
Now trace back when this killings happened :- This happened in around after Alladin Khilji.(1130AD) i.e. Near about 1180AD.
If a person can kill 10,000 mens means his family must be rich or very respected in an area.
This creats doubt and I relates this family to Mahalik Dev Rai of
Last Parmara Dynasty. Which was perished by Alladin Khilji.
Some Family members Fled away to avoid humility to ladies.
Nimbalkar Family Relations with Kolhapur Bhosale
1762 - 1813 H.H. Shrimant Rajashri Shahu Shivaji III Chhatrapati
Maharaj, Raja of Kolhapur. married (fourteenth) H.H. Shrimant Akhand
Soubhagyavati Kamaljabai Sahib Maharaj Bhonsle, daughter of Shrimant
Limajirao Naik Nimbalkar, of Bairag. He died at Panhala, 24th April 1813
having had issue, three sons and six daughters
Shrimant Akhand Soubhagyavati Balabai Sahib Maharaj Nimbalkar. married
at Kolhapur, Meherban Shrimant Sultanraoji Haibatrao Nimbalkar
Khardekar, Sar Lashkar Bahadur (dieds.p.), son of Meherban Shrimant
Haibatrao Venkatrao Nimbalkar Khardekar.
Shrimant
Akhand Soubhagyavati Yesubai Sahib Maharaj Nimbalkar. married at the
Old Palace, Kolhapur, 21st June 1808, Meherban Shrimant Sidhojirao
Nimbalkar [Appa Sahib], Sar Lashkar Bahadur, Desai of Nipani (b. 1774;
died 28th June 1839). She committed suicide ca. 1810.
1813
- 1821 H.H. Shrimant Rajashri Shambhaji III [Shambhu] Chhatrapati
Maharaj [Appa Sahib], Raja of Kolhapur, married (second) H.H. Shrimant
Akhand Soubhagyavati Jijabai Sahib Maharaj Bhonsle, née Shrimant Bayabai
Nimbalkar, daughter of Shrimant Dharrao Nimbalkar.
Nimbalkar Family Relations with Satara Bhosale
Maloji Raje Sahib Bhonsle, of Poona (Grand father of Shivaji the Great)
married
Shrimant Akhand Soubhagyavati Dipabai Sahib Bhonsle [Umabai], sister
of Meherban Shrimant Sardar Vangoji II [Jagpalrao] Naik Nimbalkar, Chief
of Phaltan. He died 1620,
Chhatrapati Maharaj
Shivaji I of the Mahratta Swarajya, 6th June 1674. married (first) at
Bijapur, 14th May 1640, H.H. Rani Shrimant Akhand Soubhagyavati Saibai
Raje Sahib Bhonsle (died 5th September 1659), Daughter of Muhoji Naik
Nimbalkar, Sister of Bajaji Naik Nimbalkar.Chief of Phaltan.
Daughter of Shivaji
1)
Shrimant Akhand Soubhagyavati Sakwarbai Raje Sahib Nimbalkar
[Sakhubai]. bourn after 1657 (daughter of Saibai). married Shrimant
Mahadjirao Bajajirao Naik Nimbalkar, son of Meherban Shrimant Sardar
Bajajirao I Naik Nimbalkar, Chief of Phaltan.
1680 - 1689 Rajaram I Shivaji Chhatrapati Maharaj Bhonsle.
Shrimant
Akhand Soubhagyavati Soyarabai Raje Sahib Nimbalkar. bourn at Jinji,
January 1692 (daughter of Rajasbai). married Meherban Shrimant Sardar
Bajajirao Nimbalkar. Phaltan.
1700 - 1707 H.H.
Kshatrtiya-Kulawatasana Sinhasanadhishwar Shrimant Rajashri Shivaji II
Chhatrapati Maharaj Bhonsle, Raja of Kolhapur-three daughters
)
Shrimant Akhand Soubhagyavati Daryabai Raje Sahib Nimbalkar. Who raised
her younger brother, Rajaram II. married Shrimant Sardar Nimbaji Naik
Nimbalkar, Sar Lashkar Bahadur, of Pangaon, near Barsi. She died after
January 1751.
1707 - 1749 H.H. Kshatriya
Kulawatasana Sinhasanadhishwar Shrimant Rajashri Shahu Shivaji
Chhatrapati Maharaj Bhonsle, Raja of Satara.- his daughter - Rajasbai
Raje Sahib Nimbalkar (daughter of Sagunabai). married into the
Nimbalkar family.
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