Buddhist Legends: Books 1–26

BUDDHIST LEGENDS

[April 2013 Draft]

Translated from the original Pāli text of the

DHAMMAPADA COMMENTARY

BY EUGENE WATSON BURLINGAME

Fellow of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences; sometime Harrison Fellow for Research, University of Pennsylvania, and Johnston Scholar in Sanskrit, Johns Hopkins University; Lecturer on Pāli (1917-1918) in Yale University

PART 1–3: Translation of Books 1 to 26

Volumes 28 and 29 and 30, first issue: 1000 copies each

Copyright, 1921, by the Harvard University Press

THE HARVARD ORIENTAL SERIES

VOLUME TWENTY-NINE

EDITED

WITH THE COOPERATION OF VARIOUS SCHOLARS

BY CHARLES ROCKWELL LANMAN

Professor at Harvard University; Honorary Fellow of the Asiatic Society of Bengal, of France, of England, and of Germany; Corresponding Member of the Society of Sciences at Göttingen, the Russian Academy of Sciences, and the Académie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres of the Institute of France

Volume Twenty Nine

CAMBRIDGE, MASSACHUSETTS

Harvard University Press

1921

Note to the E-book edition

Original text digitized by the Internet Archive in 2007 with funding from Microsoft Corporation.

This e-book edition is strictly for free, non-commercial distribution.

It contains the Dhammapada origin stories as found in the commentary as translated by E. W. Burlingame. It does not included the front or back matter found in the original print publication. Many errors remain, mostly in the footnotes, due to inaccuracies in optical character recognition. For updated versions of this book, visit to readingfaithfully.org.

Original PDF scans can be found here:

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Searching

To find a specific Dhammapada verse, search for the verse number counting sequentially from 1–423. All of the verse numbers are followed by a period in the text. Some verses appear a second time as part of the origin stories of other verses. You will have to determine if this is the case by the context. To find a location by the PTS Pāḷi edition page number, search for the number in square brackets. The volume numbers are not indicated in the text, so the following table will have to be used to determine the location:

PTS Pāḷi Volume 1, pp 3–447: Vagga I–IV

PTS Pāḷi Volume 2, pp 1–278: Vagga V–VIII

PTS Pāḷi Volume 3, pp 1-493: Vagga IX–XXII

PTS Pāḷi Volume 4, pp 1–233: Vagga XXIII–XXVI

For ease of reading and to reduce clutter, the page numbers from the print edition have been removed completely.

Prologue

Praise be unto him that is Highly Exalted, All-Holy, Supremely Enlightened.

I bow myself before the feet of the Supremely Enlightened, the All-Glorious. I honor his Good Law. I salute his Order.

Shrouded in darkness of error profound was the world, and he dwelt therein and beheld the ends thereof. With wonder-working power alight he lighted the lamp of the Good Law.

Skilled was he to know the true from the false in every matter. He, the Teacher, composed the Sentences of the Good Law, and moved with compassion, taught the pleasing Sentences of the Law, which yield increase of joy and satisfaction to gods and men alike.

“A subtile Commentary thereon has been handed down from generation to generation in the island of Ceylon. But because it is composed in the dialect of the island, it is of no profit or advantage to foreigners. It might perhaps conduce to the welfare of all mankind.”

This was the wish expressed to me by Elder Kumāra Kassapa, self-conquered, living in tranquillity, steadfast in resolve. His earnest request was made to me because of his desire that the Good Law might endure.

Therefore I shall discard this dialect and its diffuse idiom and translate the work into the pleasing language of the Sacred Texts. Whatever in the Stanzas has not been made clear in the Stanzas themselves, whether in letter or in word, all that will I make clear. The rest I will also tell in Pali, in accordance with the spirit of the Stanzas. Thus will I bring to the minds of the wise joy and satisfaction in matters both temporal and spiritual.

1 See Introduction, § 5. Text: N i. 1-2.

BOOK I.

PAIRS

YAMAKA VAGGA

I. 1. “IF THINE EYE OFFEND THEE, PLUCK IT OUT”1

1. Thought is of all things first, thought is of all things foremost, of thought are all things made.

If with thought corrupt a man speak or act,

Suffering follows him, even as a wheel follows the hoof of the beast of burden.

Where was this religious instruction given? At Sāvatthi. With reference to whom? Cakkhupāla the Elder.

At Sāvatthi, we are told, lived a householder named Great-Wealth, Mahā-Suvanna. He was rich, possessed of great wealth, possessed of ample means of enjoyment, but at the same time he was childless. One day, as he was on his way home from bathing at a ghat, he saw by the roadside a large forest tree with spreading branches. Thought he, “This tree must be tenanted by a powerful tree-spirit.” So he caused the ground under the tree to be cleared, the tree itself to be inclosed with a wall, and sand to be spread within the inclosure. And having decked the tree with flags and banners, he made the following vow: “Should I obtain a son or a daughter, I will pay you great honor.” Having so done, he went on his way.

Now in no long time his wife conceived a child in her womb. [4] So soon as his wife knew that she was with child, she informed her husband, and he performed the Protection of the Embryo for her. On the expiration of ten lunar months she gave birth to a son. Since the merchant obtained a son by protecting the tree, he named his son Protector, Pāla. After a time he obtained a second son. The younger son he named Protector junior, Culla Pāla, calling the older Protector senior, Mahā Pāla. When they reached manhood, their parents obtained wives for them. After a time the mother and father died, leaving the entire estate to be administered by the two sons.

At this time the Teacher, having set in motion the glorious Wheel of the Law, after journeying from place to place, took up his residence at Jetavana, a monastery erected by the wealthy merchant Anāthapiṇḍika

1 Derived from this story are Thera-Gāthā Commentary, xcv, and Rogers, Buddhaghosha’s Parables, i, pp. 1-11. Text: N i. 3-24.

at a cost of fifty-four crores of treasure. While in residence at Jetavana, he established the multitude in the Way to Heaven and the Way to Deliverance. (For the Tathāgata kept residence during but a single rainy season at the monastery erected by twice eighty thousand families of kinsmen, eighty on his mother’s side, eighty on his father’s. At Jetavana monastery, erected by Anāthapiṇḍika, he kept residence during nineteen rainy seasons; at Pubbārāma, erected by Visākhā at a cost of twenty-seven crores, he kept residence during six rainy seasons. Thus, by reason of the great merit of these two families’ he kept residence near Sāvatthi during twenty-five rainy seasons.)

Anāthapiṇḍika and Visākhā, the eminent female lay disciple, went regularly twice every day to wait upon the Tathāgata. Knowing that the young novices would expect alms from them, they never went empty-handed. Before breakfast [5] they took food, both hard and soft; after breakfast they took the five medicaments and the eight beverages. Moreover, in their residences seats were always prepared for two thousand monks. Whoever wished food or drink or medicine was immediately provided with just what he wished.

Not a single day had Anāthapiṇḍika asked the Teacher a question. Anāthapiṇḍika, we are told, refrained from asking questions by reason of his excessive love for the Teacher. He thought to himself, “The Tathāgata is a delicate Buddha, a delicate prince. Were the Teacher, because of the thought, ‘This householder is my supporter,’ to preach the Law to me, he would grow weary.” Therefore he asked the Teacher no questions. But so soon as Anāthapiṇḍika took his seat, the Teacher thought to himself, “This merchant protects me where I have no need to be protected. For I spent four Incalculables and a hundred thousand cycles of time in addition fulfilling the Perfections. My own gloriously adorned head have I cut off; my eyes have I torn out; my heart’s flesh have I uprooted; both son and wife, dear to me as life, have I renounced, solely that I might preach the Law to others. This man protects me where I have no need to be protected.” And straightway he preached a sermon on the Law.

At this time seventy million people dwelt in Sāvatthi. Of these, fifty million became Noble Disciples after hearing the discourse of the Teacher, but twenty million remained unconverted. The Noble Disciples had two duties: before breakfast they gave alms; after breakfast, bearing perfumes and garlands in their hands, with servants bearing garments, medicaments, and beverages, they went to hear the Law.

Now one day Mahā Pāla saw the Noble Disciples going to the monastery with perfumes and garlands in their hands. [6] When he saw them, he asked, “Where is this great throng going?” “To hear the Law.” “I will go too,” said he. So he went, paid obeisance to the Teacher, and sat down in the outer circle of the congregation.

Now when the Buddhas preach the Law, they have regard to the predispositions of their hearers for the Refuges, the Moral Precepts, and Retirement from the World. Thus they always preach the Law with reference to the disposition of mind of each individual. When, therefore, the Teacher preached the Law on that day, he had regard to Mahā Pāla’s predispositions. And he preached in orderly sequence, expounding one subject after another; to wit, Almsgiving, the Moral Precepts, Heaven, the evil consequences and folly and defilement of Sensual Pleasures, and the blessings of Retirement from the World.

Mahā Pāla the householder listened. Thought he, “When a man goes to the next world, neither sons nor daughters nor riches follow him; nay, even his own body goes not with him. Of what profit is it for me to live the house-life? I will become a monk.” So at the end of the discourse he approached the Teacher and asked to be received into the Order. The Teacher asked him, “Have you no kinsman of whom it is proper that you should ask leave?” “Why yes, Reverend Sir, I have a younger brother.” “Well then, ask him.” To this Mahā Pāla agreed, and said, “Very well.” So he paid obeisance to the Teacher and went home. Summoning his younger brother, he said to him,

“Dear brother, whatever wealth is in this house, whether animate or inanimate, all this I give into your hands; take possession thereof.” “But you, master?” “I shall enter the Order under the Teacher.” “What say you, dear brother? When my mother died, I gained in you as it were a mother; when my father died, as it were a father. Your house contains great wealth. Surely you can do works of merit even though you live the house-life. [7] Do not so.” “Dear brother, after hearing the Teacher preach the Law, I can no longer live the life of a householder. For the Teacher preached a Law lovely in its beginning, its middle, and its end, and established precisely and exactly the Three Characteristics of existing things: Impermanence, Suffering, and Absence of Individuality. I cannot fulfill the Law amid the cares of the household life; I must enter the Order, dear brother.” “Dear brother, now you are young. Wait until you are old, and then enter the Order.” “Dear brother, in the case of an old man, even hands and feet are disobedient and answer not to his will; how much more so his kinsmen? No, I will not do as you say; I will fulfill the duties of a monk.

Hands and feet weakened by old age are disobedient;

How shall he whose strength is impaired fulfill the Law?

Dear brother, I shall enter the Order despite all considerations to the contrary.”

In spite of his brother’s lamentations Mahā Pāla went to the Teacher and asked to be admitted to the Order. He was admitted and professed and spent five rainy seasons in residence with teachers and preceptors. When he had completed his fifth residence and celebrated the terminal festival, he approached the Teacher, paid obeisance to him, and asked, “Reverend Sir, how many Duties are there in this religion?” “Two Duties only, monk: the Duty of Study and the Duty of Contemplation.” “Reverend Sir, what is meant by the Duty of Study, and what is meant by the Duty of Contemplation?” “The Duty of Study necessitates gaining a knowledge of the Word of the Buddha in a manner conformable to one’s understanding, the mastery of one or two Nikayas, or indeed of the whole Tipitaka, bearing it in mind, reciting it, teaching it. [8] On the other hand the Duty of Contemplation, which leads to Arahatship, involves frugal living, satisfaction with a remote lodging, fixing firmly in one’s mind the idea of decay and death, and the development of Spiritual Insight by persistent effort.” “Reverend Sir, since I became a monk in old age, I shall not be able to fulfill the Duty of Study. But I can fulfill the Duty of Contemplation; teach me a Formula of Meditation.”

So the Teacher taught him a Formula of Meditation leading to Arahatship. Then he paid obeisance to the Teacher, sought monks to accompany him, and having obtained sixty, departed with them. When he had proceeded a distance of twenty leagues, he arrived at a larger border-village, and accompanied by his retinue, entered the village for alms. The inhabitants, observing that the monks were faithful in the performance of their duties, were favorably disposed to them, provided them with seats, and served them with savory food. Then they inquired, “Reverend Sirs, whither go the noble monks?” “Lay brethren, to a suitable retreat.” Then the wise villagers knew within themselves, “The reverend monks seek lodgings wherein to spend the rainy season.”

Said they, “If the noble monks would reside here during these three months, we would abide steadfast in the Refuges and receive the Moral Precepts.” The monks, thinking to themselves, “Through these families we shall effect escape from the round of existences,” gave their consent. The villagers, having obtained the consent of the monks, proceeded to erect a monastery, building night-quarters and day-quarters, and when it was finished, presented it to the monks. The monks resorted regularly to that village only for alms. And a certain physician came to them and offered his services, saying, “Reverend Sirs, where many reside, disease is inevitable. Should sickness arise, pray send me word, and I will prescribe remedies for you.”

When the monks entered upon residence on the first day of the rainy season, the Elder, addressing them, asked this question, [9] “Brethren, in how many Postures will you spend these three months?” “In all Four Postures, Reverend Sir.” “But, brethren, is this proper? Assuredly we must be heedful, for it was from the living Buddha that we received our Formula of Meditation on coming hither; and the favor of the Buddhas may not be won by double-dealing, but only by the manifestation of upright intent. Four States of Suffering await whoso is heedless, that he may enter therein as into his own habitation. Therefore, brethren, be heedful.” “But you, Reverend Sir?” “I shall spend the time in the Three Postures; I shall not stretch out my back, brethren.” “Very well, Reverend Sir. Be heedful.”

At the end of the first month the Elder, who allowed himself no sleep, began to suffer from an affection of the eyes. Streams of tears trickled from his eyes, as streams of water from a broken jar. All night long he devoted himself to meditation, and with the coming of dawn entered his cell and sat down. When it was time for the monks to go the rounds for alms, they came to the Elder and said to him, “Reverend Sir, it is time for us to go the rounds for alms.” “Very well, brethren; take bowl and robe.” Having thus directed them to take their own bowls and robes, he himself set out. The monks observed that his eyes were running and asked him, “What is the matter, Reverend Sir?” “The wind cuts my eyes, brethren.” “Were we not offered the services of a physician, Reverend Sir? We will inform him.” “Very well, [10] brethren.”

They informed the physician, who prepared an ointment and sent it to the Elder. The Elder applied the ointment to his nose, remaining seated as he did so, and then entered the village. The physician, seeing him, said to him, “Reverend Sir, I am informed that the wind hurts your reverence’s eyes.” “That is true, lay disciple.” “Reverend Sir, did you apply to your nose an ointment which I prepared and sent you?” “Yes, lay disciple.” “How do you feel now?” “The pain continues just the same, lay disciple.” The physician thought to himself, “The ointment which I sent him should have cured him with only one application. How is it that he is not cured?” So he asked the Elder, “Were you seated when you applied the ointment, or were you lying down?” The Elder remained silent. Though the physician repeated the question several times, he answered not a word. The physician thought to himself, “I will go to the monastery and have a look at his cell.” So he dismissed the Elder, saying to him, “That will do, Reverend Sir.” And going to the monastery, he inspected the Elder’s cell. Seeing only a place to walk and a place to sit down, but no place to lie down, he asked the Elder, “Reverend Sir, were you seated when you applied the ointment, or were you lying down?” The Elder remained silent. “Reverend Sir, do not act in this way; the duties of a religious can be performed only so long as the body is properly cared for. Were you lying down when you applied the ointment?” After the physician had repeated the question several times, the Elder replied, “Go your way, brother; I will take counsel and decide the matter for myself.”

Now the Elder had no kinsmen or blood-relatives there. With whom, therefore, was he to take counsel? Therefore he took counsel with his own person, saying, [11] “Come now, brother Palita, tell me this. Will you regard your eyes or the Religion of the Buddha? For in the round of existences without conceivable beginning, there is no counting the number of times you have been without eyes. But while unnumbered hundreds of Buddhas and thousands of Buddhas have passed, your experience does not cover the period of even a single Buddha. Now in this rainy season you resolved not to lie down for three months. Therefore let your eyes perish or decay. Keep only the Law of the Buddha, not your eyes.” And admonishing his own physical body, he uttered the following Stanzas,

My eyes perish, my ears perish, so also my body,

All that has to do with my body perishes;

Why, Pālita, continue heedless?

My eyes wear out, my ears wear out, so also my body,

All that has to do with my body wears out;

Why, Pālita, continue heedless?

My eyes decay, my ears decay, so also my body,

All that has to do with my body decays;

Why, Pālita, continue heedless? [12]

Having thus admonished himself in three Stanzas, he applied the ointment to his nose, remaining seated as before, and then entered the village for alms. The physician, seeing him, asked him, “Reverend Sir, have you applied the ointment to your nose?” “Yes, lay disciple.” “How do you feel?” “The pain continues just the same, lay disciple.” “Reverend Sir, were you seated when you applied the ointment, or were you lying down?” The Elder remained silent. The physician repeated the question several times, but the Elder answered never a word. Then the physician said to him, “You are not doing as you ought for your own good. Henceforth do not say, ‘So and So prepared ointment for me’ and I will not say, ‘I prepared ointment for you.’”

Given up by the physician, the Elder went to the monastery. Said he, “Monk, though you have been given up by the physician, do not give up your Posture.”

You are given up as incurable, you are abandoned by your physician.

Destined to the King of Death, why, Pālita, are you heedless?

Having admonished himself in this Stanza, he resumed his meditations. At the end of the middle watch his eyes and his Depravities were blotted out simultaneously, and he became an Arahat dwelling in the bliss of Spiritual Insight. He entered his cell and sat down. When the time came for the monks to go the rounds for alms, they came to the Elder and said to him, “Reverend Sir, it is time for us to go the rounds for alms.” “Is it time, brethren?” “Yes, Reverend Sir.” “Well then, go your way.” “But you, Reverend Sir?” “The sight of my eyes is gone, brethren.” They looked at his eyes, and their own eyes filled with tears. “Do not worry, Reverend Sir; [13] we will look after you,” said they to the Elder, comforting him. And having performed the various duties required of them, they entered the village for alms.

Not seeing the Elder, people asked the monks, “Brethren, where is our noble Elder?” When they learned what had happened, they sent rice-porridge to him. Afterwards, taking food, they went in person, paid obeisance to the Elder, and rolling on the ground before his feet, poured out their lamentations. Then they comforted him, saying, “We will care for you, Reverend Sir; do not worry,” and went their way. From that time on they sent rice-porridge regularly to the monastery.

The Elder constantly admonished the other sixty monks, and they carried out his admonitions so faithfully that at the next Pavāraṇā all of them became Arahats possessed of the Supernatural Faculties. At the end of the rainy season, desiring to see the Teacher, they said to the Elder, “Reverend Sir, we desire to see the Teacher.” When the Elder heard their request, he thought to himself, “I am weak, and on the way is a forest haunted by evil spirits. If I go with them, all will become weary and will be unable to obtain alms. I will send them on ahead.”

So he said to them, “Brethren, you go on ahead.” “But you, Reverend Sir?” “I am weak, and on the way is a forest haunted by evil spirits. If I go with you, you will all become weary; therefore you go on ahead.” “Do not so, Reverend Sir; we will go only with you.” “Brethren, please do not do so; if you do so, it will displease me. When my younger brother sees you and asks after me, tell him that [14] I have lost the sight of my eyes, and he will send someone to guide my steps. Greet in my name the Possessor of the Ten Forces and the eighty Chief Elders.” So saying, he dismissed them.

They begged the Elder to pardon them for their insistence, and entered the village for alms. The villagers provided them with seats, presented them with alms, and asked them, “Reverend Sirs, may we know why the noble monks are leaving?” “Yes, lay disciples, we desire to see the Teacher.” The villagers repeatedly begged the monks to remain, but finding that they were firm in their determination to go, accompanied them on their way weeping, and then turned back.

After journeying from place to place, the monks arrived at Jetavana and greeted the Teacher and the eighty Chief Elders in the name of the Elder. Having so done, they entered for alms the street where lived the Elder’s younger brother. The householder recognized them, received them cordially, provided them with seats, and asked them, “Where is my dear brother the Elder?’” They told him what had happened. Flinging himself at their feet, he rolled on the ground and wept.

Then he asked them, “Now, brethren, what is to be done?” “The Elder wishes to have someone come from here, that he may return with him.” “Brethren, here is my sister’s son Pālita. Send him.” “It will never do to send him, for there is danger by the way. We might, however, send him, after first receiving him into the Order.” “Do so and send him, brethren.” So they received him into the Order and for a fortnight instructed him in such matters as the proper manner of putting on the robe. Then, showing him the way, they sent him forth.

After journeying from place to place, he arrived at the village. Seeing an old man at the village gate, he asked him, “Is there a forest hermitage near this village?” “There is, Reverend Sir.” “Who lives there?” “An Elder named Pālita, Reverend Sir.” “Show me the way there.” “Who are you, Reverend Sir?” “I am the son of the Elder’s sister.” So the old man took him and [15] led him to the hermitage. He paid obeisance to the Elder and for a fortnight performed the major and minor duties for him, ministering to him faithfully. Then he said to him, “Reverend Sir, the householder my mother’s brother desires to have you come to him. Let us go thither.” “Very well, take hold of my staff.” Taking hold of the staff by the tip, he entered the village with the Elder. The villagers provided the Elder with a seat and asked him, “Reverend Sir, may we know your purpose in going?” “Yes, lay disciples, I am going to pay my respects to the Teacher.” The villagers sought by all means in their power to persuade them to remain, but failing in their efforts, escorted them part of the way, and then turned back weeping.

When the novice had gone part of the way with the Elder, holding the tip of the Elder’s staff, he arrived at a forest village named Kaṭṭhanagara, near which the Elder formerly resided. As the novice came out of the village, he heard in the forest the voice of a woman singing away as she gathered firewood. As he listened to her song, he fell in love with her voice. (There is no sound to be compared with a woman’s voice for power to thrill man’s whole frame. Therefore said the Exalted One, “Monks, I know of no other single sound which so completely takes possession of the heart of a man as this, monks; namely, a woman’s voice.” 1 )

The novice, fascinated by her voice, let go his hold of the Elder’s staff. Said he, “Wait just a moment, Reverend Sir; I have some business.” So saying, [16] he went in the direction of the woman. When she saw him, she became silent. The novice violated the law of

1 Aṅguttara, i. 1.

chastity with her. The Elder thought to himself, “Just now I heard the sound of someone singing, and it was none other than a woman’s voice. The novice tarries; he must have violated the law of chastity.” When the novice had finished his business, he returned to the Elder and said, “Come, Reverend Sir, let us be off.” But the Elder asked him, “Novice, have you committed sin?” The novice remained silent, and though questioned repeatedly, answered never a word. Then said the Elder to him, “A sinner like you can never hold the tip of my staff.”

The novice, overwhelmed with remorse, removed his yellow robes, clothed himself in the garb of a householder, and said, “Reverend Sir, before I was a novice; now I have become a layman again. It was not through faith that I became a monk, but because I feared the dangers of the journey. Come, let us be off.” The Elder replied, “An evildoer is an evildoer, be he layman or be he novice. While you were a novice, you were unable to keep the law of chastity. Will you be a better man for having become a layman? A sinner like you can never hold the tip of my staff.” “Reverend Sir, the road is infested with evil spirits and you are blind. How can you remain here?” The Elder answered, “Brother, don’t worry about that. No matter whether I lie down right here and die, or wander hither and thither, with you I will never go.” So saying, he pronounced the following Stanzas,

Alas! I have lost the sight of my eyes; a weary way have I come;

I will lie down and go no farther; with a simpleton no fellowship may be. [17]

Alas! I have lost the sight of my eyes; a weary way have I come;

I shall die; I will go no farther; with a simpleton no fellowship may be.

When the novice heard this, he was overwhelmed with remorse. And he cried out, “A grievous sin indeed have I committed, a deed of violence and impropriety!” And wringing his hands and weeping, he plunged into the forest and made off.

By the power of the Elder’s virtue the Yellowstone Throne of Sakka king of gods, sixty leagues long, fifty leagues wide, fifteen leagues thick, of the color of the Jayasumana flower, which has a way of lowering itself when Sakka sits down and of rising again when he stands up, manifested signs of heat. “Who, pray, can be seeking to thrust me from my seat?” thought Sakka. Surveying the world with Supernatural Vision, he saw the Elder. Therefore said those of old time,

The king of gods, possessing a thousand eyes, purified the Divine Eye;

This sin-abhorring Pāla purified his life.

The king of the gods, possessing a thousand eyes, purified the Divine Eye;

This Pāla, reverer of the Law, sat delighting in Religion.

Then this thought occurred to him, “Should I fail to go to the assistance of such a sin-abhorring, Law-revering Elder, my head is likely to split into seven pieces. I will go to him.” And so

The king of the gods, possessed of a thousand eyes, bearing majestic sway over the gods,

In a single instant approaching, approached Cakkhupāla. [18]

Accordingly Sakka approached the Elder. When he was quite near him, he shuffled his feet. “Who is there?” asked the Elder. “It is I, Reverend Sir, a traveler.” “Where are you going, lay disciple?” “To Sāvatthi, Reverend Sir.” “Continue your journey, brother.” “But, Reverend Sir, where is your reverence going?” “I am going there too.” “Well then, let us go together, Reverend Sir.” “I am weak, brother. If you go with me, you will be delayed.” “I have no urgent business. Besides, if I go with you, I can avail myself of one of the ten ways and means of acquiring merit. Let us go together, Reverend Sir.”

The Elder thought to himself, “This is without doubt some pious man.” So he said to him, “Very well, take hold of the tip of my staff, lay brother.” Sakka did so. And Sakka shortened the distance so that they arrived at Jetavana at eventide. The Elder, hearing the noise of trumpets, drums, and other instruments of music, asked, “Where is that noise?” “At Sāvatthi, Reverend Sir.” “Lay brother, when I came here before, we were a long time in coming.” “I know a short cut, Reverend Sir.” At that moment the Elder perceived within himself, “This is no human being; it must be a divinity.”

The king of gods, possessing a thousand eyes, bearing majestic sway over the gods.

Shortening the distance, came quickly to Sāvatthi.

Sakka conducted the Elder to a hut of leaves and grass which his younger brother had made for his express use, [19] seated him on a couch, and then, disguising himself as a dear friend of the younger brother, went to summon him. “Friend Pāla!” he called out. “What is it, friend?” “Do you know that the Elder has arrived?” “No; is it true that the Elder has arrived?” “Yes, friend, I have just returned from the hermitage, and saw the Elder seated in the hut of leaves and grass you built for him.” So saying, he departed.

The householder went to the hermitage. When he saw the Elder, he flung himself at his feet, rolled on the ground, and wept. Then he said, “I knew this would happen, Reverend Sir. It was for this reason that I withheld from you my permission to become a monk.” After talking with him for some time, he freed two slave-boys, had the Elder receive them into the Order, and committed him to their care, saying, “Bring rice-porridge and other kinds of food from the village and minister to the Elder.” The novices ministered to the Elder, performing the major and minor duties faithfully.

Now one day a party of monks residing in foreign parts came to Jetavana to see the Teacher, After paying their respects to the Teacher and seeing the eighty Chief Elders, they made the rounds of the monastery. Coming to Cakkhupāla’s retreat, they said to each other, “Let us see him too.” So when evening came, they set out to visit him. Just at that moment a severe storm arose. So they turned back, saying, “It is now evening, and a storm has arisen. Therefore we will go and see him in the morning.” The rain continued during the first watch, but ceased in the second. The Elder, a man of great energy, accustomed to walking, came down into the cloister in the last watch. Now at that time many insects had come out of the newly wet earth, [20] and as the Elder walked up and down, they perished in great numbers. The resident monks did not sweep betimes where the Elder walked. When the visiting monks arrived, saying, “We would see the place where the Elder resides,” and saw the insects in the cloister, they asked, “Who was it that walked in this cloister?” “Our master. Reverend Sirs.” They were offended and said, “See what the monk has done. When he had the sight of his eyes, he lay down and slept and did no sin. But now that he has lost his eyesight, saying to himself, ‘I will take a walk,’ he has destroyed these insects. ‘That which is right I will do,’ said he; but that which was not right he has done.” So they went and reported the matter to the Tathāgata, saying, “Reverend Sir, the Elder Cakkhupāla, saying to himself, ‘I will take a walk,’ has destroyed many insects.” “But did you see him killing them?” “We did not, Reverend Sir.” “Precisely as you did not see him, so also did he not see these insects. Monks, they that are freed from the Depravities have no thought of killing.” “Reverend Sir, seeing that he was destined to become an Arahat, how was it that he became blind?” “Monks, it was by reason of his misdeed in a former existence.” “Why, Reverend Sir, what did he do?” “Well then, monks, listen.”

1 a. Story of the Past: The wicked physician and the woman

In times long past, when the king of Kāsi reigned at Benāres, a certain physician went through towns and villages practicing his profession. Seeing a certain woman with weak eyes, he asked her, “What is the matter with you?” “My eyesight has failed.” “I will prescribe for you.” “Do so, master.” “What will you give me?” “If you succeed in making my eyes well and strong again, I will become your slave, and my sons and daughters too.” “Very well,” said he. So he prescribed a remedy for her, and with a single application of the remedy her eyes became well and strong again. [21]

Upon this she thought, “I promised to become his slave, and my sons and daughters too. But he will not treat me kindly. Therefore I will deceive him.” So when the physician came and asked her how she was getting on, she answered, “Before, my eyes pained me a little; but now they hurt me worse than ever.” The physician thought, “This woman is deceiving me because she is unwilling to give me anything. I don’t want her fee; now I will make her blind.” So he went home and told his wife about the matter. His wife said nothing. Then he compounded an ointment, went to the woman’s house, and directed her to rub it into her eyes. She did so, and her eyes went out like the flame of a lamp. That physician was Cakkhupāla. End of Story of the Past.

“Monks, the evil deed then committed by my son followed him ever after; for an evil deed follows the evildoer even as a wheel follows the hoof of the ox that bears the yoke.” After relating this story, the King of Righteousness joined the connection, even as a king seals an edict with the royal seal after the clay has been affixed, and pronounced the following Stanza,

1. Thought is of all things first, thought is of all things foremost, of thought are all things made.

If with thought corrupt a man speak or act.

Suffering follows him, even as a wheel follows the hoof of the beast of burden.

1 Cf. Story ix. 9 a. Physician, boys, and snake.

I. 2. WHY CRY FOR THE MOON?1

The Second Stanza also, beginning with the words, “Thought is of all things first,” was recited in the same city, Sāvatthi, with reference to Maṭṭhakuṇḍali. [25]

At Sāvatthi, we are told, lived a Brahman named Never-Gave, Adinnapubbaka. He never gave anything to anybody, and that is why they called him Never-Gave, Adinnapubbaka. He had an only son who was his darling and delight. Now he desired to have a set of ornaments made for him. But knowing that in case he gave the commission to a goldsmith, he should have to pay him a fee, he beat out the gold himself, made him a pair of burnished earrings, and gave them to him. In this way his son received the name Burnished-Earrings, Maṭṭhakuṇḍali.

When his son was sixteen years old, he had an attack of jaundice. The mother looked at the boy and said, “Brahman, your son is sick; have him treated by a physician.” “Wife, if I send for a physician, I shall have to pay him a fee in rice; you care nothing about the loss of my substance.” “Well, Brahman, what are you going to do about it?” “I shall manage things in such a way as to lose none of my wealth.” So he went to various physicians and asked, “What are you in the habit of prescribing for such and such an ailment?” They mentioned to him bark of trees and this or that.

So he procured these and prepared a remedy for his son. But in spite of all he did, his son’s condition grew worse and worse, until finally he was past help. The Brahman, perceiving that his son was very weak, sent for a physician. The physician looked at the youth and said, “I have important business to attend to; send for some other physician and have him treat him.” [26] Having thus refused to treat the boy, he turned and left the house. The Brahman realized

1 Parallels: Jātaka 449: iv. 59-62; Jātaka 454: 85-87; Vimāna-Vatthu Commentary, vii. 9: 322-330 (cf. Peta-Vatthu Commentary, ii. 5: 92); Rogers, Buddhaghosha’s Parables, ii, pp. 12-17. The author has evidently worked over Jātaka 449, both Introduction and Story of the Past, making one story out of two and expanding the original considerably. The Buddha’s conversion of Maṭṭhakuṇḍali, a prominent feature of the Dhammapada Commentary story, is lacking in the Jātaka version. The Vimāna-Vatthu Commentary version is derived, not from the Jātaka Book, but from the Dhammapada Commentary. It is much briefer at the beginning and end; elsewhere more diffuse. Vv. cm., 325^3-326^13, is word for word the same as Dh. cm., i. 29-30. This story is referred to at Milindapañha, 350^11-12. Text: N i. 25-37.

that his son was at the point of death. Thought he, “All who come to see this youth will see the wealth in my house; therefore I will place him outside.” So he carried his son out of the house and laid him down on the terrace.

On that day, very early in the morning, the Exalted One arose from a Trance of Great Compassion. And for the purpose of seeing those who had made their Earnest Wish under previous Buddhas, those the roots of whose merit were fully developed, brethren capable of conversion, he surveyed the universe with the Eye of a Buddha, spreading the Net of his Knowledge over the ten Cakkavala Worlds. Straightway Maṭṭhakuṇḍali, lying outside on the terrace, appeared within the Net of his Knowledge. As soon as the Teacher saw him, he became aware that he had been removed from the house and laid there; and considering within himself, “Have I sufficient reason for going to him?” he saw the following:

“This youth will repose faith in me, will die, and will be reborn as a deity in the Heaven of the Thirty-three, in a golden mansion, with a retinue of a thousand celestial nymphs. The Brahman will burn his body and will go about the burning-ground weeping. The deity will survey his own person, three-quarters of a league in height, adorned with sixty cart-loads of ornaments, surrounded by a thousand celestial nymphs. And considering within himself, ‘Through what merit have I attained this attainment of splendor?’ he will perceive that he obtained it by reposing faith in me. Then he will say to himself, ‘My father, who failed to provide medicine for me for fear of wasting his wealth, has now gone to the burning-ground and is weeping. I will effect a change in his attitude.’ And provoked at his father, he will take the form of Maṭṭhakuṇḍali, will go [27] to a place not far from the burning-ground, and will fling himself on the ground and weep.

“The Brahman will ask him, ‘Who are you?’ He will reply, ‘I am your son Maṭṭhakuṇḍali.’ ‘Where were you reborn?’ ‘In the World of the Thirty-three.’ The Brahman will ask him, ‘What deed of merit did you perform?’ and Maṭṭhakuṇḍali will tell him that he was reborn in the World of the Thirty-three by reposing faith in me. Then the Brahman will ask me, ‘Are there any that have been reborn in Heaven by reposing faith in you?’ and I will reply to him, ‘It is not so many hundreds or thousands or hundreds of thousands—there is no counting the number of them.’ I will then recite a Stanza in the Dhammapada. At the conclusion of the Stanza eighty-four thousand living beings will obtain Comprehension of the Law, Maṭṭhakuṇḍali will receive the Fruit of Conversion, and so will Adinnapubbaka the Brahman. Thus through this noble youth many will obtain Comprehension of the Law.”

Of all this the Teacher became aware. Accordingly, on the following day, having attended to his toilet, he surrounded himself with a large company of monks, entered Sāvatthi for alms, and in due course arrived at the house of the Brahman. At that moment Maṭṭhakuṇḍali was lying with face turned towards the house. The Teacher, observing that he did not see him, sent forth a ray of light. “What is that radiance?” asked the youth, turning over. Seeing the Teacher from where he lay, he said, “On account of a foolish father, I have been deprived of the privilege of approaching so excellent a Buddha, nor have I obtained the privilege either of waiting upon him or of giving him alms or of hearing the Law. Now I cannot even control the movements of my hands; there is nothing else I can do.” So saying, he reposed faith in the Buddha. The Teacher said, “He has done enough,” and departed.

As the Tathāgata receded from his range of vision, [28] he died with a believing heart, and as if awaking from sleep, was reborn in the World of the Gods in a golden mansion thirty leagues in extent. The Brahman burned the body of his son, and resorting to the burning-ground, abandoned himself entirely to lamentation. Every day he would go to the burning-ground and weep and say, “Where are you, my only son.’”

The deity his former son surveyed his own glory and considered within himself, “By what deed of merit have I obtained this?” Perceiving that it was by reposing faith in the Teacher, he said to himself, “This Brahman failed to provide medicine for me when I was sick, but now goes to the burning-ground and weeps; I must effect a change in his attitude.” Accordingly he took the form of Maṭṭhakuṇḍali, went to a place not far from the burning-ground, and stood wringing his hands and weeping. The Brahman saw him and thought to himself, “As for myself, I am weeping because of sorrow for my son; why is yonder youth weeping.’ I will ask him.” So he asked him in the following Stanza,

Richly adorned, wearing earrings of burnished gold.

Bearing garlands, with protuberances of yellow sandal.

You wring your hands and weep.

Why are you afflicted in the midst of the forest?

Said the youth,

I have obtained a chariot-body.

Shining, of solid gold,

But I cannot find a pair of wheels for it;

Through grief over this I shall lose my life. [29]

Then said the Brahman to him,

Name wheels of gold,’ of precious stones,

Of copper, or of silver.

Name them to me, good youth,

And I will procure you a pair of wheels.

Hearing this, the youth thought to himself, “This Brahman failed to provide medicine for his son. But seeing that I look like his son, he says, ‘I will procure wheels for your chariot, either of gold or of precious stones or of copper or of silver.’ Very well! I will humble him.” So he said, “How large a pair of wheels will you make for my chariot?” “As large as you wish.” “I want the moon and the sun,” said the youth. “Give them to me.” By way of request

Said the youth to the Brahman, The moon and the sun are brothers twain.

My chariot is of solid gold; with such a pair of wheels it would shine.

The Brahman replied.

Youth, you are a simpleton to seek for what cannot be obtained.

I suppose you will die, for you will never obtain the moon and the sun.

But the youth said to him, “But which is the greater simpleton, he who weeps for what exists, or he who weeps for what does not exist?” [30]

They are seen that go and come;

The property of color is seen on both sides of the street;

But he that is dead and gone cannot be seen;

Which of us that weep here is the greater simpleton?

Hearing this, the Brahman came to the conclusion, “What this youth says is sensible.” And he said to him.

Youth, what you say is quite true; it is I that am the greater simpleton of the two that weep;

Like a child crying for the moon, I desired a son that is dead and gone.

Having thus spoken, freed from sorrow by the words of the youth, the Brahman pronounced the following Stanzas in praise of the youth.

When I was all on fire, and the fire was as if fed with ghee,

You poured water on the fire, as it were, and extinguished all my grief.

You drew out the arrow that was in me, the sorrow that was in my heart;

Although I was dead with sorrow, you removed my sorrow for my son.

The arrow of my grief has been withdrawn, and I am tranquil and happy;

Having heard your words, youth, I sorrow no more, nor do I weep. [31]

Then the Brahman asked him, “Who are you?”

Are you a devatā or a gandhabba, or are you Sakka Purindada?

Who are you? whose son are you? how am I to know you?

The youth replied,

I am he for whom you lament, he for whom you weep.

Your son, whom you yourself burned in the burning-ground.

By the performance of a work of merit

I have attained the Society of the Thirty.

In these words the youth gave him the information he asked for. Then said the Brahman,

I never saw you give alms, either little or much, in your own home.

Nor did you so much as keep fast-day; by what work of merit did you attain the World of the Gods?

The youth replied,

As I lay in my own home, sick, afflicted, oppressed with a grievous ailment, my body weakened by disease,

I beheld the Buddha, free from passion, free from doubt, happy, of lofty wisdom.

With joyful mind and believing heart I did homage to the Tathāgata, with hands reverently clasped;

By the performance of this work of merit I attained the Society of the Thirty. [32]

As the youth spoke, the whole body of the Brahman was suffused with joy. And this joy he made known in the following Stanza,

Wonderful! marvelous! that such as this should be the fruit of a reverent salutation.

I too with joyful mind and believing heart seek refuge in the Buddha this very day.

Then said the youth,

This very day with believing heart seek refuge in the Buddha, the Law, and the Order;

Likewise take upon yourself the Five Precepts, and keep them unbroken and unimpaired;

Refrain from taking life, from this moment; take not that which is not given to you in this world;

Drink not strong drink; speak not falsely; be content with your own wife.

“Very well,” said the Brahman, agreeing. And he pronounced the following Stanzas,

You desire my weal, yakkha; you desire my welfare, divinity;

I will obey your words; you are my teacher.

I seek refuge in the Buddha, and likewise in his incomparable Law,

And in the Order of the Prince of Men do I seek refuge.

From the taking of life do I refrain, from this moment; I abstain from taking that which is not given to me in this world;

I drink not strong drink; I speak not falsely; I am content with my own wife. [33]

Then said the deity to him, “Brahman, you have much wealth in your house. Approach the Teacher, give alms, listen to the Law, and ask him questions.” So saying, he disappeared. The Brahman went home and said to his wife, “Wife, I shall invite the monk Gotama to my house and ask him questions; therefore prepare hospitality.” Then he went to the monastery, and without saluting the Teacher or expressing any pleasure at seeing him, stood on one side and said, “Sir Gotama, consent for to-day to take a meal in my house with your company of monks.” The Teacher consented. As soon as the Brahman received his consent, he returned home quickly and caused food, both hard and soft, to be prepared in his house.

The Teacher, accompanied by the Congregation of Monks, went to his house and sat down on the seat prepared for him. The Brahman waited upon him respectfully. A multitude of people assembled. We are told that when a man who holds false views invites the Tathāgata, two classes of people assemble. Those who hold false views assemble with the thought in their minds, “To-day we shall see the monk Gotama embarrassed by the questions that are asked him.” Those who hold orthodox views assemble with the thought, “To-day we shall see the power of a Buddha and the grace of a Buddha.”

Now when the Tathāgata had finished his meal, the Brahman approached him, seated himself on a low seat, and asked him the following question, “Sir Gotama, are there any that have been reborn in Heaven, without giving alms to you, without rendering honor to you, without hearing the Law, without keeping fast-day, solely by making an act of faith?” “Brahman, why do you ask me? Did not your own son Maṭṭhakuṇḍali tell you that he had been reborn in Heaven by reposing faith in me?” “When, Sir Gotama?” “Did you not go to the burning-ground to-day, and while you were weeping, see a youth near you wringing his hands and weeping? [34] And did you not say to him, ‘Richly adorned, wearing earrings of burnished gold, bearing garlands, with protuberances of yellow sandal?’” Continuing, the Teacher related in detail the conversation of the two and told the whole story of Maṭṭhakuṇḍali.

For this very reason the Teacher pronounced this Word of the Buddha, “Brahman, it is not a question of one hundred or two hundred — there is no counting the number of those who have been reborn in Heaven by reposing faith in me.” The multitude were not free from doubt. The Teacher, perceiving that they were not free from doubt, commanded, “Let the deity Maṭṭhakuṇḍali come hither in his mansion.” Thereupon Maṭṭhakuṇḍali drew near, three-quarters of a league in height, his person adorned with celestial adornments. Descending from his mansion, he paid obeisance to the Teacher and stood respectfully on one side. The Teacher asked him, “What work of merit did you perform to attain this glory?”

Divinity, you who possess surpassing beauty,

Illuminating all four quarters like the herb-star,

I ask you, god of mighty power,

What meritorious act did you perform in your human estate?

When the Teacher had completed this Stanza, the deity replied, “Reverend Sir, I obtained this glory by reposing faith in you.” “You obtained it by reposing faith in me?” “Yes, Reverend Sir.”

The populace surveyed the god and exclaimed, “Marvelous, indeed, are the powers of the Buddhas! the son of the Brahman Adinnapubbaka [35] obtained glory such as this simply by reposing faith in the Teacher, without doing a single other work of merit!” And they were filled with joy. Then the Teacher said to them, “Our thoughts are the source of all our actions, both good and bad, and by our thoughts are our actions controlled. For, like a shadow, an act done with thought of faith never leaves a man who goes to the World of the Gods or the world of men. Having related this story, the King of Truth joined the connection, and sealing, as it were, with the royal seal an edict to which the clay had been attached, pronounced the following Stanza,

2. Thought is of all things first, thought is of all things foremost, of thought are all things made.

If with thought of faith a man speak or act,

Happiness follows him, even as a shadow never fading.

I. 3. TISSA THE FAT

He abused me. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana with reference to Elder Tissa. [37]

It seems that this Venerable Elder was the son of the sister of the father of the Exalted One. He was an old man when he retired from the world, and very fat. He enjoyed the gain and honor of the Buddhas; his clothes were always smooth from constant beating; he always sat in the center of the monastery in the Hall of State.

One day some visiting monks came to see the Tathāgata, and supposing Tissa to be some Great Elder, asked to be allowed the privilege of waiting upon him, offering among other things to rub his feet. Tissa remained silent. Thereupon a certain young monk asked him, “How many seasons have you kept residence?” “No seasons at all,” replied Tissa; “I was an old man when I retired from the world.” Said the young monk, “You wretched old monk, [38] you overestimate your own importance. Seeing before you, as you do, all these Great Elders, you are not even civil to them. To their offers to perform various services for you, you answer by silence. Moreover, you show not the slightest regret for your misconduct.” So saying, he snapped his fingers. Recovering the pride of a member of the Warrior caste, Tissa asked them, “Whom did you come to see?” “We came to see the Teacher.” “But with reference to me, you say to yourselves, ‘Who is he?’ I will extirpate your whole race.” So saying, he went to the Teacher, weeping and sad and sorrowful.

The Teacher asked him, “Tissa, how is it that you come to me sad and sorrowful, with tears in your eyes, weeping?” The monks said to themselves, “If he goes alone, he may cause some trouble.” So they went right with him, paid obeisance to the Teacher, and sat down respectfully on one side. Tissa answered the Teacher’s question as follows, “Reverend Sir, these monks are abusing me.” “But where were you sitting?” “In the center of the monastery in the Hall of State, Reverend Sir.” “Did you see these monks when they came?” “Yes, Reverend Sir, I saw them.” “Did you rise and go to meet them?” “No, Reverend Sir, I did not.” “Did you offer to take their monastic utensils?” “No, Reverend Sir, I did not offer to take them.”

1 Derived from this story are Thera-Gāthā Commentary, xxxix, and Rogers, Buddhaghosha’s Parables, iii, pp. 18-24. Cf. Saṁyutta, xxii. 84: iii. 106-109. Text; N i. 37-45.

“Did you offer to wait upon them and to provide them with water to drink?” “No, Reverend Sir, I did not offer to do either of these things.” “Did you bring seats for them and rub their feet?” “I did not, Reverend Sir,” “Tissa, you should have performed all these services for the old monks, for he who does not do this has no right to sit in the center of the monastery. You alone are to blame; ask pardon of these monks.” “But they [39] abused me, Reverend Sir; I will not ask their pardon.” “Tissa, do not act thus. You alone are to blame; ask their pardon.” “I will not ask their pardon, Reverend Sir.” The monks said to the Teacher, “He is an obstinate monk, Reverend Sir.” The Teacher replied, “Monks, this is not the first time he has proved obstinate; he was obstinate also in a previous state of existence.” “We know all about his present obstinacy, Reverend Sir; but what did he do in a previous state of existence?” “Well then, monks, listen,” said the Teacher. So saying, he told the following

3 a. Story of the Past: Devala and Nārada

Once upon a time, when a certain king of Benāres reigned at Benāres, an ascetic named Devala, who had resided for eight months in the Himalaya country, desiring to reside near the city during the four months of the rains, returned from the Himalaya for salt and vinegar. Seeing two boys at the gate of the city, he asked them, “Where do monks who come to this city spend the night?” “In the potter’s hall, Reverend Sir.” So Devala went to the potter’s hall, stopped at the door, and said, “If it is agreeable to you, Bhaggava, I should like to spend one night in your hall.” The potter turned over the hall to him, saying, “I have no work going on in the hall at night, and the hall is a large one; spend the night here as you please, Reverend Sir,”

No sooner had Devala entered the hall and sat down than another ascetic named Nārada, returning from the Himalaya, asked the potter for a night’s lodging. The potter thought to himself, “The ascetic who arrived first may or may not be willing to spend the night with him; I will therefore relieve myself of responsibility.” [40] So he said to the ascetic who had just arrived, “Reverend Sir, if the ascetic who arrived first approves, spend the night at his pleasure.” So Nārada approached Devala and said, “Teacher, if it is agreeable to you, I should like to spend one night here.” Devala replied, “The hall is a large one; therefore come in and spend the night on one side.” So

1 Cf. the story of Jātimanta and the Future Buddha in Jātaka 497: iv. 388-389.

Nārada went in and sat down behind the ascetic who had gone in before him. Both exchanged friendly greetings.

When it was bedtime, Nārada noted carefully the place where Devala lay and the position of the door, and then lay down. But when Devala lay down, instead of lying down in his proper place, he lay down directly across the doorway. The result was that when Nārada went out at night, he trod on Devala’s matted locks. Thereupon Devala cried out, “Who is treading on my locks?” Nārada replied, “Teacher, it is I.” “False ascetic,” said Devala, “you come from the forest and tread on my locks.” “Teacher, I did not know that you were lying here; pardon me.” Nārada then went out, leaving Devala weeping as if his heart would break.

Devala thought to himself, “I will let him tread on me when he comes in also.” So he turned around and lay down, placing his head where his feet had been before. When Nārada came in, he thought to himself, “The first time I injured the teacher; this time I will go in past his feet.” The result was that, when Nārada entered, he trod on Devala’s neck. Thereupon Devala cried out, “Who is that?” Nārada replied, “It is I, teacher.” “False ascetic,” said Devala, “the first time you trod on my locks; this time you tread on my neck. I will curse you.” “Teacher, I am not to blame. I did not know that you were lying in this position. When I came in I thought to myself, ‘The first time I injured the teacher; this time I will go in past his feet.’ Pardon me.” [41] “False ascetic, I will curse you.” “Do not so, teacher.” But Devala, paying no attention to what Nārada said, cursed him all the same, saying,

The sun possesses a thousand rays and a hundred flames, is dispeller of darkness.

When the sun rises on the morrow, may your head split into seven pieces.

Nārada said, “Teacher, I told you it was not my fault. But in spite of what I said, you have cursed me. Let the head of the guilty man split into seven pieces, not that of the innocent.” Thereupon Nārada pronounced the following curse,

The sun possesses a thousand rays and a hundred flames, is dispeller of darkness.

When the sun rises on the morrow, may your head split into seven pieces.

Now Nārada possessed great supernatural power and could call to mind eighty cycles of time, forty cycles in the past and forty in the future. So considering, “On whom will the curse fall?” and perceiving that it would fall on his brother-ascetic, he felt compassion for him, and therefore put forth the power of his magic and prevented the sun from rising.

When the sun failed to rise, the citizens assembled before the gate of the king’s palace and wailed, “Your majesty, the sun has not risen, and you are king. Make the sun rise for us,” The king surveyed his own deeds, words, and thoughts, and seeing no impropriety, thought to himself, “What can be the cause?” Suspecting that it might be because of a quarrel of the monks, he inquired, “Are there any monks in this city?” “Your majesty, last evening there were some arrivals at the potter’s hall.” [42] The king immediately went there with torches carried before him, paid obeisance to Nārada, seated himself respectfully on one side, and said,

Nārada, the people of the Land of the Rose-Apple are unable to pursue their wonted occupations.

Why is the world overspread with darkness? Tell me in answer to my question.

Nārada told him the whole story. “For this reason,” said he, “I was cursed by this ascetic. So I cursed him back, saying, ’ I am not to blame; let the curse fall upon whichever of us is to blame.’ But when I had cursed him, I considered within myself, ‘Upon whom will the curse fall?’ and perceived that, as soon as the sun rose, the head of my brother-ascetic would split into seven pieces. Therefore, out of pity for him, I am not permitting the sun to rise.” “But, Reverend Sir, how can he escape destruction?” “He may escape destruction by begging my pardon.”

“Well then,” said the king to Devala, “beg his pardon.” Devala replied, “Great king, this fellow trod on my matted locks and on my neck; I will not beg pardon of this false ascetic.” “Beg his pardon, Reverend Sir; do not act thus.” “Great king, I will not beg his pardon.” “Your head will split into seven pieces.” “Nevertheless I will not beg his pardon.” “I am convinced that you will not beg his pardon of your own free will,” said the king. Thereupon, taking him by the hands, feet, belly, and neck, the king compelled him to bow down before Nārada’s feet. Nārada said, “Rise, teacher, I pardon you.” Then said Nārada to the king, “Great king, since this ascetic does not ask pardon of his own free will, [43] take him to a certain lake not far from the city, put a lump of clay on top of his head, and make him stand in the water up to his neck.”

The king did so. Then said Nārada to Devala, “Teacher, I will put forth my magical power and cause the sun to rise. At that moment duck in the water, rise in a different place, and go your way.” As soon as the sun’s rays touched the lump of clay, it split into seven pieces. Thereupon Devala ducked in the water, rose in a different place, and ran away. End of Story of the Past.

When the Teacher had given this religious instruction, he said, “Monks, at that time the king was Ānanda, Devala was Tissa, and Nārada was I myself; at that time also he was obstinate.” Then he addressed the Elder Tissa as follows, “Tissa, if a monk allows himself to think, ‘So and So abused me. So and So struck me. So and So defeated me. So and So robbed me of my goods,’ his hatred never ceases. But if he does not cherish such thoughts, his hatred ceases.” So saying, he pronounced the following Stanzas,

3. “He abused me, he struck me, he defeated me, he robbed me;”

If any cherish this thought, their hatred never ceases.

4. “He abused me, he struck me, he defeated me, he robbed me;”

If any cherish not this thought, their hatred ceases.