Buddhist Legends: Books 1–26

1 b. Story of the Past: The King of Benāres and Queen Dinnā

In times long gone by a king’s son approached a certain banyan-tree and prayed thus to the spirit that dwelt therein, “Good spirit, in this Land of the Rose-Apple are a hundred kings and a hundred queens. If, on the death of my father, I obtain the kingdom, I will make an offering to you with the blood of these kings and queens.” When his father died and he came into his kingdom, he reflected, “It is through the supernatural power of the tree-spirit that I have received my kingdom. I must now make my offering to him.” So he set out with a large force, overpowered one king, and with the aid of the conquered king another [15] and another, until finally he had all the kings in his power. Then, taking the hundred kings and the hundred queens with him, he proceeded to the tree.

As he marched along, he said to himself, “Dinnā, the chief-consort of the youngest king, is great with child. I will therefore let her go. But the rest I will kill by giving them poison to drink.” As he was clearing the ground under the tree, the tree-spirit thought, “This king is taking all these kings and is preparing to make an offering to me with their blood because of his conviction that he captured them with my assistance. But if he slays them, the royal stock of the Land of the Rose-Apple will be rooted out, and the foot of the tree will be polluted.”

The tree-spirit asked himself whether he could stop him. Realizing that he could not, he went to another spirit, told him what wes the matter, and asked him whether he could. Receiving a negative answer, he went to yet another, but with the same result. Then he went to all the Cakkavala deities, but they could do nothing for him. Finally he went to the Four Great Kings, who said to him, “We can do nothing, but our King is superior to us in deeds of merit and in wisdom; ask him.” So he went to Sakka and told him what was the matter. “Sakka,” said he, “if you remain in an attitude of ease and indifference, and the stock of princes is rooted out, you will be responsible for it.” [16]

Sakka said, “I cannot stop him, but I will tell you how he can be stopped. Put on your night-gown, go forth from your tree in plain sight of the king, and act as though you were going away. The king will say to himself, ‘The tree-spirit is going away; I must stop him,’ and will use every effort to persuade you to remain. Then you say to him, ‘You made the following promise to me, “I will bring a hundred kings and a hundred queens and make an offering to you with their blood;” but you have come here without the consort of King Ugga-sena. I will not accept an offering from such a liar.’ As soon as the king hears you say that, he will bring King Uggasena’s consort, Queen Dinnā. She will instruct the king in the Law and will save the lives of this numerous company.” Such was the ruse Sakka suggested to the tree-spirit.

The tree-spirit did as Sakka suggested, and the king promptly brought Queen Dinnā. She approached her own consort. King Uggasena, although he was seated in the outer circle of the hundred kings, and paid obeisance only to him. The king of Benāres was offended at her and said to himself, “Although I, the oldest king of all, am present, she pays obeisance to the youngest of all.” Then she said to the king of Benāres, “Do I owe you allegiance? This my lord is for me the giver of dominion. Why should I pass him by and pay obeisance to you?”

The tree-spirit honored her with a handful of flowers in plain sight of the assembled throng, crying out, “Well said, your majesty! Well said, your majesty!” [17]

Again the king of Benāres said to her, “If you pay not obeisance to me, why do you not pay obeisance to this tree-spirit, who has great magical power and has bestowed dominion and majesty on me?” “Your majesty, it was by your own merit that you overpowered these kings; the tree-spirit did not overpower them and give them into your hands at all.” Again the tree-spirit honored her in the same way, saying, “Well said, your majesty!” Again she said to the king, “You say, ‘The tree-spirit overpowered all these kings and gave them into my hands.’ Just now a tree to the left of your spirit was burned with fire. If your spirit possesses such great magical power, why could he not put out that fire?” Again the tree-spirit honored her in the same way, saying, “Well said, your majesty!”

As the queen spoke, she wept and laughed. The king said, “You have gone mad.” “Your majesty, why do you speak thus? Such as I are not mad.” “Then why do you weep and laugh?” “Your majesty, listen to me:

1 c. Story of the Past: The woman who killed a ewe

“In times long goneby I was reborn as the daughter of a good family. While living in my husband’s house, an intimate friend of my husband visited the house as a guest. When I saw him, I desired to cook him a meal. So I gave my servant a penny and said to her, ‘Get me some meat.’ She was unable to get any, and when she returned she told me so. Now there was a ewe lying in the rear of the house; so I cut off her head and prepared a meal. Because I cut off the head of that one ewe, I was reborn in Hell. After suffering torment in Hell, because the fruit of my evil deed was not yet exhausted, my own head was cut off just as many times as there were hairs in the ewe’s fleece. Now suppose you kill all these people. When will you ever obtain release from torment? [18] It was because I remembered the great suffering I endured that I wept.” So saying, she recited the following Stanza,

Because I cut off the head of one ewe, I suffered as many times as there were hairs in the ewe’s fleece.

If you cut off the heads of so many living beings, prince, how will you fare?

“But why do you laugh?” “Because of the joy I feel over having obtained release from this suffering, your majesty.” Again the tree-spirit honored her with a handful of flowers, saying, “Well said! your majesty.”

The king said, “Oh, what a grievous sin it was that I was minded to commit! Because this queen killed one ewe, she was reborn in Hell. Torment still remaining to her, her head was cut off as many times as there were hairs in the ewe’s fleece. If I kill all these human beings, when shall I ever be purged of my sin?” So he released all the captive kings, paid obeisance to those that were older than he, did honor, with hands reverently clasped, to those that were younger than he, asked them all to forgive him, and sent them back to their own dominions.

When the Teacher had related this story, he said, “Thus, monks, this was not the first time Mallikā saved the lives of a great number of people by her own wisdom. She did so in a former existence also.” And when he had so said, he identified the characters in the Story of the Past as follows, “At that time the king of Benāres was Pasenadi Kosala, Dinnā was Queen Mallikā, and the tree-spirit was I myself.” And having identified the characters in the Story of the Past, he gave instruction in the Law further, saying, “Monks, [19] it is never lawful to take the life of a living creature. Those who take life sorrow for a long time.” So saying, he pronounced the following Stanza,

If people would understand this, that suffering has here in this world its origin in birth,

No living being would take the life of another, for he that takes life sorrows.

V. 2. THE REBELLIOUS PUPIL

Should a man fail to find a companion. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Sāvatthi with reference to a pupil of Elder Kassapa the Great.

The story goes that while the Elder was in residence at Pipphali Cave, he had two pupils to wait upon him. One of these performed his duties faithfully, but the other frequently shirked his duties and sought to take credit for work really done by his brother-pupil. For example, the faithful pupil would set out water for washing the face, and a tooth-stick. Knowing this, the faithless pupil would go to the Elder and say, “Reverend Sir, water for washing the face is set out, and a tooth-stick. Go wash your face.” And when it was time to prepare water for bathing the feet and for the bath, he would pursue the same tactics.

The faithful pupil thought to himself, “This fellow is constantly shirking his work and is seeking to take credit for my work. Very well! I will attend to him.” So one day, while the faithless pupil was asleep after a meal, he heated water for the bath, poured it into a water-jar, and set it in the back room, [20] leaving only a pint-pot of water steaming in the boiler. In the evening the faithless pupil woke up and saw steam coming out. “He must have heated water

1 This story follows closely Jātaka 321: iii. 71-74. Text: N ii. 19-25.

and put it in the bathroom,” thought he. So he went quickly to the Elder, bowed, and said, “Reverend Sir, water has been placed in the bathroom; go and bathe.” So saying, he accompanied the Elder to the bathroom. But when the Elder saw no water, he said, “Brother, where is the water?” The youth went to the room where the fire was kept, and lowering a ladle into the boiler, perceived that it was empty. “See what the rascal has done!” he exclaimed. “He has set an empty boiler on the brazier, and then gone — who knows where? Of course I thought there was water in the bathroom and went and told the Elder so.” Much put out, he took a water-jar and went to the bathing-place on the river.

When the faithful pupil returned, he brought water from the’ back room and set it in the bathroom. The Elder thought to himself, “I supposed that this young fellow had heated water for me, for he came to me and said, ‘Water has been placed in the bathroom; come and bathe.’ But just now, in a fit of irritation, he took a water-jar and went to the bathing-place on the river. What can this mean?” After considering the matter, he came to the following conclusion, “All this time this young fellow has been shirking his duties and has sought to take credit for work really done by his brother-pupil.”

When the faithless pupil returned and sat down, the Elder admonished him, saying, “Brother, a monk ought not to say he has done a thing unless he has done it. For example, just now you came to me and said, ‘Reverend Sir, water has been placed in the bathroom; come and bathe.’ But when I went in, you were annoyed and took a water-jar and went out. One who has become a monk should not do so.” The pupil was highly offended. Said he to himself, “See what the Elder has done! What a way to talk to me just because of a few drops of water!” On the following day he refused to accompany the Elder on his rounds. The Elder therefore took his other pupil with him to a certain place.

While he was away, the faithless pupil went to the house of a layman who was a supporter of the Elder. The layman asked him, “Reverend Sir, where is the Elder?” [21] “The Elder doesn’t feel well, and therefore remained at the monastery.” “What then should he have, Reverend Sir?” “Give him such and such food,” said the novice, pretending that the Elder had told him to ask for it. Accordingly they prepared food such as he asked for, and gave it to him. He took the food, ate it himself on the way back, and returned to the monastery.

Now the Elder had received from his supporter robes of great size and fine texture, and these he presented to the novice who accompanied him. The novice dyed them and converted them into under and upper garments for himself. On the following day the Elder went to the house of his supporter. “Reverend Sir,” said they, “your novice told us that you were not feeling well, and therefore we prepared food such as he suggested and sent it to you. Evidently, after eating it, you recovered.” The Elder said nothing, but returned to the monastery. In the evening, when the faithless novice came in and after bowing to him sat down, the Elder said to him, “Brother, yesterday, I am informed, you did such and such. Such conduct ill becomes those who have renounced the world. You should not eat food which you got for another by hinting.”

The novice was provoked and conceived a grudge against the Elder. He said to himself, “Yesterday, just because of a few drops of water, he called me a liar. To-day, just because I ate a fistful of food his supporter gave me, he said to me, ‘You should not eat food which you got for another by hinting.’ Besides that, he gave an entire set of robes to his other pupil. Oh, the Elder has treated me very badly! I shall find some way of getting even with him.”

On the following day, when the Elder entered the village for alms, leaving him alone in the monastery, he took a stick, broke all the vessels used for eating and drinking, set fire to the Elder’s hut of leaves and grass, smashed to pieces with a hammer everything that didn’t burn, and ran away. When he died, he was reborn in the Great Hell of Avici. [22]

The populace discussed the incident: “They say that a pupil of the Elder, unable to endure a slight rebuke, took offense, set fire to the Elder’s hut of leaves and grass, and ran away.” Some time afterwards a certain monk left Rājagaha, and desiring to see the Teacher, came to Jetavana and paid obeisance to the Teacher. The Teacher greeted him in a friendly manner and asked, “Whence have you come?” “From Rājagaha, Reverend Sir.” “Is all well with my son Kassapa the Great?” “All is well with him, Reverend Sir. But a certain pupil of his, taking offense at a slight rebuke, set fire to his hut of leaves and grass and ran away.” Said the Teacher, “This is not the first time he has taken offense at receiving an admonition. He did the same thing in a previous state of existence also. This is not the first time he has destroyed a house. He did the same thing in a previous state of existence also.” So saying, he related the following

2 a. Story of the Past: The monkey and the singila bird

In times long past, when Brahmadatta reigned at Benāres, a singila bird built him a nest and made his home in the Himalaya country. Now one day, while it was raining, a monkey came there shivering with the cold. The singila saw him and pronounced the following Stanza,

Monkey, your head and your hands and your feet are just like a man’s.

What excuse have you, pray, for having no house?

The monkey thought to himself, “It is true that I have hands and feet; but I lack the intelligence to build a house.” And desiring to make his meaning clear, he pronounced the following Stanza,

Singila, my head and my hands and my feet are indeed just like those of a man;

But as for what they say is man’s highest endowment, intelligence, I have it not.

The bird thought, “To live in a house would never do for one like you.” And out of scorn for the monkey he pronounced the two following Stanzas, [23]

He that is unstable, light-minded, and treacherous.

He that never keeps the moral precepts, such a one will never attain happiness.

Monkey, exert yourself to the utmost, abandon your past habits.

Build yourself a hut to protect yourself from the cold and the wind.

The monkey said to himself, “This bird calls me unstable, light-minded, treacherous to my friends, one who never keeps the moral precepts. Very well! Now I will show him what happiness is.” So saying, he destroyed the nest and scattered it to the winds. When the monkey seized the nest, the bird slipped out and flew away.

When the Teacher had given this religious instruction, he identified the characters in the Jataka as follows, “At that time the monkey was the novice that destroyed the house; the singila bird was Kassapa.” And he said, “Monks, this is not the first time the novice took offense at an admonition and destroyed a house. He did the same thing in a previous state of existence also. It were better for my son Kassapa to live alone than to live with such a simpleton.” So saying, he pronounced the following Stanza,

61. Should a man fail to find a companion who is his better or his equal.

He should resolutely pursue a solitary course. One cannot be friends with a simpleton.

V. 3. A JONAH IN THE HOUSE

I have sons. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while at Sāvatthi with reference to Treasurer Ānanda. [25]

3 a. The niggardly treasurer

At Sāvatthi, we are told, lived a treasurer named Ānanda. He had eighty crores of treasure, but he was a great miser. Every fortnight he would gather his kinsfolk together and admonish his son Mūlasiri on these three points: “Do not think that these eighty crores of treasure are a large sum. What one possesses one should never give away. One should always be acquiring more. For if a man lets penny after penny slip through his fingers, slowly but surely his substance wastes away. Therefore it is said,

Observing how pigments fade away, how ants amass their store,

How bees gather honey, so should the wise man administer his household.”

Some time afterwards, after showing his son his five great stores of treasure, he died, given over to pride and stained with the stains of avarice. Now in a certain village near the gate of that city lived a thousand families of Candalas, [26] and Ānanda was conceived in the womb of one of these Candala women. The king, learning of his death, sent for his son Mūlasiri and appointed him to the post of treasurer.

3 b. Sequel: A Jonah in the house

These thousand families of Candalas, who made their living by working for hire in a body, from the day of his conception received no more wages and had not a morsel of rice to sustain them. They said to each other, “Although we are now working, we receive no food. There must be a Jonah amongst us.” So they divided into two groups and made a thorough investigation while his mother and father were absent, and coming to the conclusion, “A Jonah has arisen in this house,” they removed his mother. From the time of his conception she had been able only with great difficulty to procure sufficient food to sustain her. Finally she gave birth to a son.

His hands and feet and eyes and ears and nose and mouth were

1 Cf. Jātaka, i. 238-239, and the beginning of chap, xxv of Rogers, Buddhaghosas Parables. This story is referred to at Milindaj)anha, 350i«. Text: N ii. 25-29.

not where they should have been. Monstrosity that he was, he looked like a mud sprite and was exceedingly repulsive. In spite of this, however, his mother did not abandon him, for great is the love of a mother for the child she has carried in her womb. She had great difficulty in feeding him. If she took him with her when she went out, she got nothing. But if she left him at home and went out alone, she received food to support her. When he was old enough to get a living by begging alms, she placed a potsherd in his hand and sent him away, saying to him, “Dear son, because of you we have been brought to great distress. Now we can support you no longer. In this city meals are provided for poor folk and travelers. Get your living by begging alms in the city.” [27]

He went from house to house, finally coming to the house where he had formerly lived in his existence as Treasurer Ānanda. Remembering his former existence, he entered his own house. He went through three chambers, and no one noticed him. But when he entered the fourth chamber, the young sons of Treasurer Mūlasiri took fright and burst into tears. The treasurer’s servants came in and said to him, “Leave this house, unspeakable monster!” So saying, they beat him and pulled him and dragged him out and threw him on the dust-heap.

As the Teacher was going his round for alms, accompanied by the Elder Ānanda as junior monk, he came to this very place. The Teacher looked at the Elder and, in response to a question, told him what had happened. The Elder sent for Mūlasiri, and a great company of people assembled. The Teacher, addressing Mūlasiri, asked him, “Do you know that man?” “I do not.” “He is your father, Treasurer Ānanda.” Mūlasiri would not believe it. So the Teacher said to Treasurer Ānanda, “Ānanda, point out your five great stores of treasure to your son.” He did so, and Mūlasiri believed and sought refuge in the Teacher. The Teacher, instructing him in the Law, pronounced the following Stanza,

62. “I have sons, I have wealth.” With these thoughts the simpleton vexes himself. But he is not his own. How then can sons be his? How can wealth be his?

V. 4. THE PICKPOCKET

The fool. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana with reference to two thieves who broke their bonds. [29]

The story goes that these two men, who were boon companions, accompanied a great throng to Jetavana to hear the Law. One of them listened to the Law; the other watched for a chance to steal something. The first, through listening to the Law, obtained the Fruit of Conversion; the second found a matter of five farthings tied to the skirt of a certain man and stole the money. The confirmed thief had food cooked as usual in his house, but there was no cooking done in the house of the convert. His comrade the thief, and likewise the thief’s wife, ridiculed him, saying, “You are so excessively wise that you cannot obtain money enough to have regular meals cooked in your own house.” The convert thought to himself, “This man, just because he is a fool, does not think that he is wise.” [30] And going to Jetavana with his kinsfolk, he told the Teacher of the incident. The Teacher, instructing him in the Law, pronounced the following Stanza,

63. The fool who thinks he is a fool is for that very reason a wise man;

But the fool who thinks he is a wise man is rightly called a fool.

V. 5. THE WISE FOOL

Even if a fool, all his life long. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana with reference to the Elder Udayi. [31]

The story goes that when the Great Elders left the Hall of Truth, Udayi used to go in and sit in the Seat of the Law. Now one day some visiting monks saw him there, and thinking to themselves, “This must be the learned Great Elder,” asked him some questions about the Aggregates of Being and other matters. Discovering that he knew nothing about any of these things, they said in scorn, “Who is this monk that he should live in the same monastery with the Buddhas? He does not even know about the Aggregates of Being, the Elements

1 Text: N ii. 29-30. - Xext: N ii. 30-32.

of Being, and the Organs and Objects of Sense.” So they reported the matter to the Tathāgata. The Teacher, instructing them in the Law, pronounced the following Stanza,

64. Even if a fool, all his life long, associate with a wise man,

He will no more perceive the Law than a spoon the taste of broth.

V. 6. FROM VICE TO VIRTUE

If an intelligent man, but for a moment. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana with reference to the thirty Patheyyaka monks. [32]

For the Exalted One first preached the Law to these men in Kappasika Grove, where they were seeking a woman. At that time all of them obeyed the command, “Come, monks!” and received bowls and robes created by supernatural power. Taking upon themselves the Thirteen Pure Practices, they returned after a long time to the Teacher, hearkened to his discourse on the Beginningless, 1 and before leaving their seats, attained Arahatship.

The monks began a discussion in the Hall of Truth: “In how short a time did these monks perceive the Law!” The Teacher, hearing this, said to them, “Monks, this is not the first time these thirty companions committed sin. They did the same thing in a previous state of existence also. But hearing the religious instruction of Mahā Tundila in the Tundila Jataka, 2 [33] they perceived the Law very quickly and took upon themselves the Five Precepts. It was solely through the merit acquired by this act that they attained Arahatship just now, even as they sat in their seats.” So saying, he pronounced the following Stanza,

65. If an intelligent man, but for a moment, be associated with a wise man,

He quickly perceives the Law, just as the tongue perceives the taste of broth.

1 This story is derived from the Vinaya, Mahd Vagga, i. 14: i. 23-24. See also Story i. 8 e: i. 100. Text: N ii. 32-33.

2 Samyutta, xv: ii. 178-193. For a translation of the greater part of this remarkable SamyuUa, see Introduction, § 2 a.

3 Jātaka 388: iii. 286-293.

V. 7. A LEPER IS TEMPTED TO DENY HIS FAITH

Fools of little wit, walk. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Veluvana with reference to the leper Suppabuddha. The story of the leper Suppabuddha is found in the Udana.

For at that time the leper Suppabuddha, seated in the outer circle of the congregation, heard the Exalted One preach the Law and attained the Fruit of Conversion. [34] Desiring to inform the Teacher of the blessing he had received, but not daring to force his way into the midst of the congregation, he waited until the populace had paid obeisance to the Teacher, had accompanied him a little way, and had turned back; then he went to the monastery.

At that moment Sakka king of gods thought to himself, “Yonder leper Suppabuddha desires to make known the blessing he has received in the Religion of the Teacher. I will test him.” So he went to him, and poised in the air, spoke thus to him, “Suppabuddha, you are a poor man, a man afflicted with misery. I will give you limitless wealth if you will say, ‘The Buddha is not the Buddha, the Law is not the Law, the Order is not the Order. I have had enough of the Buddha, I have had enough of the Law, I have had enough of the Order.’” The leper said to him, “Who are you?” “I am Sakka.” “Fool, shameless one, you are not fit to talk to me. You say that I am poor and needy and afflicted. On the contrary I have attained happiness and great wealth:

The wealth of faith, the wealth of morality, the wealth of modesty, of fear of sin,

The wealth of sacred lore, of renunciation, of wisdom, the seven stores of wealth are mine.

Whoso possesses these stores of wealth, be it a woman or a man.

Such a one men call not poor; the life of such a one is not in vain.

“These are the seven stores of honorable wealth. They that possess these stores of wealth are not called poor by Buddhas or Private Buddhas.” [35] When Sakka heard him speak thus, he left him by the way, went to the Teacher, and told him all the questions and answers. The Exalted One said to him, “Sakka, it is not possible, even with a hundred such pieces of money, even with a thousand, to

1 This story is derived from Uddna, v. 3: 48-50, as the text expressly says at ii. 3321. Text: N ii. 33-37.

prevail upon the leper Suppabuddha to say, The Buddha is not the Buddha, the Law is not the Law, the Order is not the Order.’”

So Suppabuddha the leper went to the Teacher, and the Teacher received him in a friendly manner. And having informed the Teacher of the blessing he had received, he arose from his seat and went his way. When he had gone but a little way, he was killed by a young heifer. We are told that this heifer was an ogress who had been a cow in each of a hundred existences, and that as a cow she had killed four youths: Pukkusati, 1 a young man of station; Bāhiya Dārucīriya; 1 Tambadathika, the robber outlaw 3 and Suppabuddha the leper.

7 a. Story of the Past: The four youths and the courtezan

The story goes that in a former state of existence these four youths were sons of wealthy merchants, and the ogress was a beautiful courtezan. One day they accompanied her to a pleasure garden, took their pleasure with her, and when the evening came, decided on the following course of action, “There is no one here except ourselves. We will take from this woman the thousand pieces of money we have given her, rob her of all the jewels she possesses, kill her, and go our way.” The courtezan heard what they said and thought to herself, “These shameless fellows have taken their pleasure with me and now wish to kill me. I will get even with them.” So as they were killing her, she made the following Earnest Wish, [36] “May I become an ogress, and may I be able to kill them, even as they are now killing me.” As the fruit of this Earnest Wish, she killed them.

Several monks informed the Exalted One of the death of the leper and asked him, “What will be his future state? How did he come to be a leper?” The Teacher explained that since he had attained the Fruit of Conversion, he had been reborn in the World of the Thirty-three.

7 b. Story of the Past: The insolent youth

In a previous state of existence, seeing the Private Buddha Tagara-sikhi, he showed want of forbearance by spitting on him. He was therefore tormented in Hell for a long period of time, and because

1 Commentary on Majjhima 140. 2 Dhammapada Comm£ntary, viii. 2. ’ Dhammapada Commentary, viii. 1.

the fruit of that evil deed was not yet exhausted, he was reborn as a leper.

“Monks,” said he, “all living beings in this world reap the bitter fruit of every single evil deed they commit.” And joining the connection and instructing them in the Law, he pronounced the following Stanza,

66. Fools of little wit walk with their very selves for enemies.

Committing evil deeds the fruit whereof is bitter.

V. 8. A FARMER IS UNJUSTLY ACCUSED OF THEFT

That deed is not well done. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana with reference to a certain farmer. [37]

This farmer, we are told, tilled a certain field not far from Sāvatthi. One day some thieves gained entrance to the city through an underground watercourse, and digging a tunnel into the house of a certain rich man, robbed him of a large amount of gold and coin, escaping through the same watercourse. One of the thieves outwitted his companions and secreted a purse containing a thousand pieces of money in a fold of his garment. Having so done, he accompanied his companions to this field, where they divided their spoils. As the thief departed with his share, the purse dropped out of the fold of his garment, but he did not notice his loss.

That day, early in the morning, the Teacher surveyed the world, and seeing that this farmer had entered the Net of his Knowledge, he considered within himself what would happen. And he became aware of the following, “This farmer will go early in the morning to till his field. The owners of the stolen property will follow the thieves, and when they see the purse, they will arrest him. Excepting me, he will have no other witness. [38] Since he is predestined to the Path of Conversion, it is my duty to go to him.”

Early in the morning the farmer went to till his field, and thither went also the Teacher with the Elder Ānanda as attendant-monk. Seeing the Teacher, the farmer went and paid obeisance to the Exalted One, and then resumed tilling his field. The Teacher said nothing to him. Going to the place where the purse had fallen and seeing it, he said to the Elder Ānanda, “See, Ānanda, a poisonous snake!” “I see, Reverend Sir, a deadly, poisonous snake!” The farmer heard their conversation and thought to himself, “In season and out of season I go back and forth over this field. Can there be a snake here, as they say?” The Teacher, after making this remark, went his way. The farmer said to himself, “I will kill the snake.” So saying, he took a goad-stick, went to the spot, and discovered the purse. “The Teacher must have referred to this purse,” thought he. Not knowing exactly what to do about it, he laid the purse aside, covered it with dust, and resumed his plowing.

When the night grew bright, men discovered the theft which had been committed in the house, trailed the thieves to the field, and coming to the spot where they had divided their spoils, saw the footprints of the farmer. Following his footsteps to the spot where the purse was buried, they removed the earth and picked up the purse. Thereupon they reviled him, saying, “So you robbed the house, and here you are plowing the field!” And having given him a good beating, they took him and arraigned him before the king. [39]

When the king heard what had happened, he ordered the farmer to be put to death. The king’s men straightway bound his hands behind his back and led him to the place of execution, lashing him with whips as they led him along. As the farmer walked along and the king’s men lashed him with whips, he kept repeating the words, “See, Ānanda, a poisonous snake!” “I see, Reverend Sir, a deadly, poisonous snake!” Not another word did he utter. The king’s men asked him, “You are repeating words of the Teacher and of the Elder Ānanda. What does this mean?” The farmer replied, “I will tell, if I am permitted to see the king.”

So they led him to the king and told the king what had happened. The king asked the farmer, “Why do you speak thus?” “I am not a thief, your majesty.” So saying, the farmer told him the whole story from the time when he went forth to till his field. When the king had heard his story, he said, “Why, this man names as his witness the foremost man in all the world, the Teacher. It is not right to fasten the guilt upon him. I shall find some way out of this difficulty.”

Accordingly, when it was evening, the king took the farmer with him, went to the Teacher, and asked him, “Exalted One, did you and the Elder Ānanda go to a place where a certain farmer was plowing?” “Yes, your majesty.” “What did you see there?” “A purse containing a thousand pieces of money, your majesty.” “When you saw it, what did you say?” “Such and such, your majesty.” “Reverend Sir, if this man had not named a person like you as his witness, he would never have saved his life. He saved his life by repeating the words you uttered.” When the Teacher heard this, he said, “Yes, your majesty, I also said just that when I went there. A wise man should not do a deed of which he must afterwards repent.” [40] And joining the connection, he instructed him in the Law by pronouncing the following Stanza,

67. That deed is not well done, of which a man must afterwards repent.

The fruit whereof he receives weeping, with tearful face.

V. 9. SUMANA THE GARDENER

That deed is well done. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Veluvana with reference to the gardener Sumana. [41]

We are told that every day, early in the morning, the gardener Sumana used to serve King Bimbisāra with eight measures of jasmine flowers, for each of which he received eight pieces of money. Now one day, just as he was entering the city with the flowers, the Exalted One, surrounded by a mighty retinue of monks, diffusing rays of six colors, with all the mighty power of a Buddha, entered the city for alms. (Sometimes the Exalted One proceeds like any other monk on an alms pilgrimage, concealing the six-colored rays with his robe, as when he went a journey of three leagues to meet Aṅgulimāla. At other times, as when he enters Kapilavatthu and other cities, he diffuses rays of six colors from his person. On this particular day, diffusing rays of six colors from his person, with all the mighty power of a Buddha, with all the grace of a Buddha, he entered Rājagaha.)

When the gardener saw the person of the Exalted One, as it had been an oblation of precious stones, an oblation of gold, and beheld the glory and splendor of the thirty-two major characteristics and the eighty minor characteristics of a great man, he thought to himself, “What good office can I perform for the Teacher?” Seeing nothing better to do, he thought, “I will honor the Teacher with these flowers.” Then he thought again, “These are the flowers with which I always

1 This story is referred to at Milindapanha, 115--, 291---S 350-. On an interesting reference to another story about the same person at Khuddaka Pdtha Commentary, 12916-13024, see Introduction, § 7 d, last paragraph. Text: N ii. 40-4-7.

serve the king. If he fails to receive them, he may put me in prison or kill me or banish me. What am I to do?” Then this thought occurred to him, “Let the king kill me or banish me from his kingdom. No matter what he gives me, he can give me wealth which will last only so long as my life endures in this present existence. But if I honor the Teacher, it will avail to my welfare and salvation in untold millions of cycles of time.” [42] Therefore he surrendered his life to the Tathāgata.

Thought he, “So long as my believing heart turns not back, I will do him honor.” And pleased and delighted, elated and happy, he honored the Teacher. How did he do it? First he threw two handfuls of flowers over the Teacher. These remained suspended over his head like a canopy. Then he threw two handfuls more, which descended on his right side and remained suspended like the curtain of a pavilion. The next two handfuls he threw descended behind him and remained suspended. The last two handfuls he threw descended on his left side and remained suspended. Thus the eight measures of flowers, eight handfuls in all, surrounded the Tathāgata on four sides.

In front it was as if there were a gate for him to enter; the stems of the flowers were turned inward, and the petals were turned outward. The Exalted One proceeded as if he were encased in plates of silver. The flowers, senseless things though they were, behaved as though possessed of intelligence, neither breaking apart nor falling, accompanying the Teacher whenever he moved, and remaining stationary whenever he stood still. From the person of the Teacher proceeded rays like the hundred forks of lightning; in front and behind, on his right hand and on his left, and from the crown of his head did rays of light flash forth.

Not one who met him face to face, as he proceeded, ran away, but all without exception walked thrice about him sunwise, and in numbers like clusters of young palm-trees [43] ran before him. The whole city was agitated. There were ninety million people living in the city at this time and ninety million people living outside of the city; and of these one hundred and eighty million people there was not one man or woman who did not come forth bringing alms. Roaring the roar of lions and waving thousands of cloths, the great multitude marched before the Teacher.

In order to make known the meritorious deed of the gardener, the Teacher proceeded through the city for a distance of three leagues to the beating of kettle-drums. The whole body of the gardener was suffused with the five sorts of joy. After accompanying the Tathāgata a little way, he penetrated the rays of the Buddha as one might plunge into a sea of vermilion, praised the Teacher, paid obeisance to him, and then taking his empty basket, went home.

His wife asked him, “Where are your flowers?” “I honored the Teacher with them.” “Now what will you do for the king?” “The king may kill me or banish me from his kingdom. I have surrendered my life to the Teacher and rendered him honor. I had eight handfuls of flowers in all, and with these I honored the Teacher. The populace is accompanying the Teacher, shouting thousands of acclamations. It is the noise of the acclamations of the populace that we hear in this place.”

Now the wife of the gardener was an utter simpleton, [44] and was therefore incapable of believing in such a miracle. So she rebuked her husband, saying, “Kings are harsh and cruel, and when once provoked, do much harm by cutting off hands and feet and inflicting other punishments. Much harm might come to me through what you have done.” Then she took her children with her, went to the royal palace, sent for the king, and when he asked her what was the matter, said to him, “My husband has honored the Teacher with the flowers he should have served to you and has returned home empty-handed. I asked him what he had done with the flowers, and this is what he told me. I rebuked him, saying, ‘Kings are harsh and cruel, and when once provoked, do much harm by cutting off hands and feet and inflicting other punishments. Much harm might come to me through the offense you have committed.’ So I abandoned him and came here. What he has done may be good or evil. All that I care for, your majesty, is to have you know that I have abandoned him.”

Now the king was a Noble Disciple. At the very first sight of the Buddha he had obtained the Fruit of Conversion; his faith was firm and his mind was at peace. He thought to himself, “Oh, this woman is an utter simpleton! Naturally she could have no faith in such a work of merit.” But he pretended to be angry and said to her, “Woman, what say you? He honored the Teacher with flowers he should have served to me?” “Yes, your majesty.” “You did well to abandon him. I shall find a way of dealing with this fellow for rendering honor to another with flowers that belonged to me.” Having dismissed her with these words, he went quickly to the Teacher, paid obeisance to him, [45] and walked with the Teacher alone.

The Teacher, perceiving that the mind of the king was at peace, proceeded to the city and marched through the street to the beating of kettle-drums, until he arrived at the gate of the king’s palace. The king took his bowl and invited the Teacher to enter, but the Teacher indicated his desire to sit in the palace court. The king recognized his desire and gave the order, “Erect a pavilion with all speed.” Accordingly a pavilion was immediately erected, and the Teacher sat therein, surrounded by the Congregation of Monks.

Now why did the Teacher not enter the king’s palace? We are told that the following thought occurred to him, “If I go in and sit down, the populace will not be able to see me, and the good deed of the gardener will not be manifest; but if I sit in the palace court, the populace will be able to see me, and the good deed of the gardener will become manifest to all.” (For the Buddhas alone have the courage to publish abroad the virtues of the virtuous; other folk display jealousy in reciting the virtues of the virtuous.)

The four banks of flowers remained suspended on four sides. The populace waited upon the Teacher, and the king served the Congregation of Monks presided over by the Buddha with choice food. At the conclusion of the meal the Teacher returned thanks, and surrounded as before by the four banks of flowers and accompanied by a great multitude shouting shouts of exultation, proceeded to the monastery.

The king accompanied the Teacher a little way and turned back. Then he sent for the gardener and asked him, “What did you say when you honored the Teacher?” The gardener replied, “Your majesty, I surrendered my life to him and honored him, saying, ‘The king may kill me or banish me from his kingdom.’” The king said, “You are a great man.” So saying, he presented him with eight elephants, eight horses, eight male slaves, [46] eight female slaves, eight magnificent sets of jewels, eight thousand pieces of money, eight women taken from the royal harem, adorned with all the adornments, and eight choice villages. These Eightfold Gifts did the king give him.

The Elder Ānanda thought to himself, “Shouts of exultation and acclamation have continued all during the day since early morning. What will be the reward of the gardener?” So he asked the Teacher the question. The Teacher replied, “Ānanda, think not that it was a little thing this gardener did. For he surrendered his life to me and rendered honor to me. Therefore, because he reposed faith in me, he will not enter a state of suffering for a hundred thousand cycles of time, but will receive the fruit of his good deed in the World of the Gods and in the world of men and will become a Private Buddha named Sumana.”

When the Teacher returned to the monastery and entered his Perfumed Chamber, those flowers fell upon the battlement.

In the evening the monks began a discussion in the Hall of Truth: “Oh, how wonderful was the deed of the gardener! He surrendered his life to the living Buddha, rendered him honor with flowers, and straightway received eightfold gifts.” The Teacher came forth from his Perfumed Chamber, proceeded to the Hall of Truth by one of three passageways, [47] and seating him’self in the Seat of the Buddha, asked them, “Monks, what is it you are sitting here now talking about?” When they told him, he said to them, “Yes, monks, one should do only deeds the doing of which is not followed by remorse, but every remembrance of which brings only joy.” And joining the connection and instructing them in the Law, he pronounced the following Stanza,

68. That deed is well done the doing of which is not followed by remorse,

The fruit whereof one receives with joy and pleasure.

V. 10. RAPE OF UPPALAVAṆṆĀ

As sweet as honey, thinks a fool an evil deed. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana with reference to the nun Uppalavaṇṇā. [48]

We are told that Uppalavaṇṇā made her Earnest Wish at the feet of the Buddha Padumuttara, and that after performing works of merit for a hundred thousand cycles of time, as she passed from birth to birth among gods and men, she passed from the World of the Gods in the dispensation of the present Buddha and was reborn in Sāvatthi as the daughter of a rich merchant. The hue of her skin was like the hue of the calyx of the blue lotus, and therefore they gave her the name Uppalavaṇṇā. When she reached marriageable age, all the princes and merchants in the Land of the Rose-Apple, without a single exception, sent to the merchant her father, asking him to give them his daughter in marriage.

1 For the story of Uppalavaṇṇā’s career before her adoption of the religious life, one of the most extraordinary stories in Buddhist literature, see Aṅguttara Commentary, JRAS.y 1893, pp. 532 ff.; Therl-Gdthd Commentary, Ixiv: 182-190; and Tibetan Tales, x: 206-215. Text: N ii. 48-52.

Thereupon the merchant thought to himself, “I shall not be able to satisfy the wishes of all, but I shall find some way out of the difficulty.” So he summoned his daughter and said to her, “You might become a nun.” Now she was in her last existence before attaining Nibbāna, and therefore his words were to her as it were oil a hundred times refined, sprinkled on her head. Therefore she replied, “Dear father, I will become a nun.” So he prepared rich gifts in her honor, and conducting her to the Community of Nuns, had her admitted to the Order. [49]

Not long after she had been admitted to the Order, her turn came to unlock and lock the Hall of Confession. After she had lighted the lamp and swept the Hall, her attention was attracted to the flame of the lamp. And standing there, she looked repeatedly at the flame; and concentrating her attention on the element of fire, entered into a state of trance. Consummating the trance, she attained Arahatship, together with the Supernatural Faculties and Powers.

Some time later she went on a pilgrimage for alms in the country, and on her return entered a dark forest. At that time it was not forbidden nuns to reside in a forest. There they built her a hut, set up a bed, and hung curtains round. From the forest she went to Sāvatthi to receive alms, and then set out to return to her hut. Now a cousin of hers, a young Brahman named Ānanda, had been in love with her ever since she lived in the world; and when he heard where she had gone, he went to the forest ahead of the nun, entered the hut, and hid under the bed.

On her return the nun entered the hut, closed the door, and sat down on the bed, unable to see in the dark, because she had just come in out of the sunlight. Hardly had she seated herself on the bed when the youth crawled out from under and climbed on top. The nun cried out, “Fool, do not ruin me! Fool, do not ruin me!” But the youth overcame her resistance, worked his will of her, and went his way. As if unable to endure his wickedness, [50] the great earth burst asunder, and he was swallowed up and reborn in the Great Hell of Avici.

The nun told the other nuns what had happened, and the nuns told the monks, and the monks told the Exalted One. Having heard this, the Teacher addressed the monks as follows, “Monks, the simpleton, whoever he may be, whether monk or nun, or lay disciple male or female, who commits an act of sin, acts with as much joy and happiness, with as much pleasure and delight, as though he were eating honey or sugar or some other sweet-tasting substance.” And joining the connection and instructing them in the Law, he pronounced the following Stanza,

69. As sweet as honey, thinks a fool an evil deed, so long as it bears no fruit;

But when it bears fruit, then the fool comes to grief. [51]

Some time later the throng assembled in the Hall of Truth began to discuss the incident: “Even those that have rid themselves of the Depravities like the pleasures of love and gratify their passions. Why should they not? They are not kolapa-trees or ant-hills, but are living creatures with bodies of moist flesh. Therefore they also like the pleasures of love and gratify their passions.” The Teacher drew near and asked them, “Monks, what are you sitting here now talking about?” They told him. Then he said, “Monks, they that have rid themselves of the Depravities neither like the pleasures of love nor gratify their passions. For even as a drop of water which has fallen upon a lotus-leaf does not cling thereto or remain thereon, but rolls over and falls off, even as a grain of mustard-seed does not cling to the point of an awl or remain thereon, but rolls over and falls off, precisely so twofold love does not cling to the heart of one who has rid himself of the Depravities or remain there.” And joining the connection, he instructed them in the Law by pronouncing the following Stanza, found in the Brahmana Vagga,

401. Even as water does not cling to a lotus-leaf, nor a grain of mustard-seed to the point of an awl.

Whoso in like manner clings not to the pleasures of sense, him I call a Brahman. 1

Now the Teacher summoned King Pasenadi Kosala and said to him, “Your majesty, in this Religion young women of family, as well as young men of family, renounce many kinsfolk [52] and much wealth, retire from the world, and take up residence in the forest. In case women reside in the forest, it is possible that evil-minded men, inflamed by lust, may conduct themselves towards them with disrespect and arrogance, do them violence, and bring their religious life to naught. Therefore a place of residence for the Community of Nuns should be erected within the city.” The king agreed to this and had a place of residence for the Community of Nuns erected on one side of the city. From that time on the nuns resided only within the city.

1 See Story xxvi. 18.

V. 11. JAMBUKA THE NAKED ASCETIC

Though month after month with the tip of a blade of kusa grass. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Veluvana with reference to Jambuka, the Naked Ascetic.

11 a. Story of the Past: The jealous monk

The story goes that in times long past, in the dispensation of the Supremely Enlightened Kassapa, a certain layman dwelling in a village erected a residence for a certain Elder, and supplied him with the four requisites during his term of residence there, the Elder taking his meals regularly in the layman’s house. Now a certain monk freed from the Depravities, making his round for alms by day, stopped at the door of the layman’s house. When the layman saw him, pleased with his deportment, he invited him into his house, and reverently served him with the choicest viands. And he presented him with a large robe, saying, “Reverend Sir, dye this robe and wear it as an undergarment.” [53] And he said further to him, “Reverend Sir, your hair has grown long; I will go fetch a barber to cut your hair. And on my return I will procure you a bed for you to lie on.”

When the monk who was the layman’s guest, and who took his meals regularly in the layman’s house, saw the attentions bestowed on the visiting monk by the layman, he became very jealous. And as he went to his residence, he thought to himself, “This moment this lajrman is devoting all his attentions to this visiting monk. But to me, who take my meals in his house regularly, he pays no attention at all.” The visiting monk, who was his sole companion, dyed the robe which the layman had given him, and put it on and wore it as an undergarment. The layman brought the barber back with him and had him cut the Elder’s hair. Having so done, he caused a bed to be spread for the Elder and said to him, “Reverend Sir, lie on this very bed.” Then, after inviting the two Elders to be his guests on the morrow, he departed.

The resident monk could endure no longer the attentions bestowed by the layman on the visiting monk. So in the evening he went to the place where the Elder lay, and reviled him by uttering the four

1 From this story is derived Thera-Gdthd Commentary, cxc. Dhammapala quotes the Dhammapada Commentary by name. This story is referred to at Milindapanha- 350i--. Text: N ii. 52-63.

kinds of insults: “Brother visitor, you might better eat excrement than eat food in the layman’s house. You might better tear out your hair with a Palmyra comb than allow your hair to be cut by a barber brought hither by the layman. You might better go naked than wear as an undergarment a robe given you by the layman. You might better lie on the ground than lie on a bed brought you by the layman.” Thought the visiting Elder, “May this foolish fellow not be destroyed because of me!” Paying no attention to the insults of the resident monk, he arose early in the morning [54] and went whithersoever he wished.

The resident monk also arose early in the morning, and performed the customary duties about his residence. When it was time for him to set out on his round for alms, thinking to himself, “The visiting Elder is undoubtedly asleep now, and will awaken at the sound of the bell,” he struck the bell with the outer surface of his finger nail. Having so done, he entered the village. After preparing offerings of food, the layman watched for the two Elders to come. Seeing the resident monk, he asked, “Reverend Sir, where is the visiting Elder?” The resident monk replied, “Brother, what say you? The Elder who came to your house yesterday went into an inner room as soon as you departed, and fell asleep. Although I rose very early, he pays no attention either to the noise of my sweeping the residence, or to the sound of the washing of the jars for water for drinking and for refreshment, or to the stroke of the bell.”

Thought the layman to himself, “It is incredible that my noble Elder, a monk so perfect in deportment, should sleep until this time of day. It must be that the Venerable Elder resident in my household, observing my attentions to him, said something to him.” Accordingly, wise man that he was, the layman reverently served the resident monk with food; and having so done, washed his bowl carefully, filled it with food flavored with the choicest gravies, and said to him, “Reverend Sir, should you happen to see my noble Elder, be good enough to give him this food.” The monk took the bowl and thought to himself, “If the Elder eats such food as this, he will take such a liking to this spot that he will never leave it.” So as he went along the road, he threw away that food. When he reached the Elder’s place of residence, he looked for him there, but failed to find him.

Now because the monk committed this evil deed, [55] the meditations he performed for so long as twenty thousand years were powerless to protect him. When the term of his life was completed, he was rebom in the Avici Hell, where he suffered extreme torment for the space of an interval between two Buddhas. In the dispensation of the present Buddha he was reborn in the city of Rājagaha in a certain household possessed of an abundant store of food and drink.

11b. Story of the Present: Jambuka the Naked Ascetic

From the time he could walk, he would neither lie on a bed nor eat ordinary food, but ate only his own excrement. His mother and father brought him up, thinking, “He does this because he is too young to know any better.” But also when he grew older, refusing to wear clothes, he went naked, made his bed on the ground, and ate only his own excrement. Thought his mother and father, “This youth is not fit to live in a house. He is fit to live only with the Naked Ascetics, the Ajivakas.” So they took him to the Ajivakas and committed him to their charge, saying, “Admit this youth to your Order.” So they admitted him to their Order. In admitting him they placed him in a pit up to his neck, laid planks over his two collarbones, and seating themselves on the planks, pulled out his hair with Palmyra combs. His mother and father invited the Ajivakas to be their guests on the following day and departed.

On the following day the Ajivakas said to him, “Come, let us go into the village.” But he refused to go, saying, “You go, but I shall remain right here. They repeatedly urged him to accompany them, but he refused to do so, and they left him behind and went their way. When he knew they were gone, he removed a plank from the public jakes, and descending therein, took up excrement in both his hands, molded it into lumps, [56] and ate it. The Ajivakas sent him food from the village, but he refused to eat it. Repeatedly urged to do so, he said, “I have no need of this food; I get food of my own.” “Where do you get it?” said they. “Right here,” said he. Likewise on the second day and on the third and on the fourth he refused, in spite of much urging, to accompany them to the village, saying, “I shall remain right here.”

Said the Ajivakas, “Day after day this man refuses to accompany us to the village. Likewise he will have none of the food we send him and says, ‘Right here I procure food of my own.’ What can he be doing? Let us watch him and find out for ourselves.” So when they went to the village, they left two of their number behind to watch him. These men pretended to follow in the train of the other monks and then went and hid themselves. As soon as he thought they had gone, he descended as before into the jakes and began to eat excrement. When the spies saw what he was doing, they told the Ajivakas. As soon as the Ajivakas heard the news, they said to themselves, “Oh, what an outrageous thing he has done! If the disciples of the monk Gotama should learn of this, they would circulate evil report of us, saying, ‘The Ajivakas make a practice of eating excrement.’ This man is not fit to remain with us.” So they expelled him from their Order.

Now the public jakes was a pool of considerable size, formed by a depression in the surface of a flat rock. When Jambuka had been expelled by the Ajivakas, he used to go by night to the public jakes and eat filth. When people came to ease themselves, he would stand leaning with one hand on one side of the rock, [57] with one foot raised and resting on his knee, with his mouth wide open, facing in the direction of the wind. When people saw him, they would approach and salute him and ask him, “Reverend Sir, why does your noble self stand there with mouth wide open?” “I am a wind-eater,” Jambuka would reply; “I have no other food.” “But, Reverend Sir, why do you stand with one foot resting on your knee?” “I am a man who practices cruel austerities, dreadful austerities. If I walk with my two feet, the earth quakes. Therefore I stand with one foot resting on my knee. I spend my life in a standing posture, never sitting and never lying down.”

For the most part men believed whatever he said. Therefore all the inhabitants of Anga and Magadha were greatly agitated and said, “Oh, how wonderful are such ascetics as these! Never before have we seen such ascetics!” And month after month they brought him abundant food. But he was unwilling to accept anything they brought him and said, “I eat only the wind. I have no other food; for were I to eat any other food, it would make an end of my austerities.” But the people replied, “Reverend Sir, do not destroy us. If only an austere ascetic like you would partake of food at our hands, it would insure our welfare and salvation for a long period of time.” They asked him repeatedly, but other food did not please him. But finally, under the pressure of their entreaties, he placed on the tip of his tongue with the tip of a blade of kusa grass some butter, honey, and molasses they brought him, and dismissed them with the following words, “Go your way now; this will suffice to your welfare and salvation.” In this manner he spent fifty-five years, going naked, eating excrement, tearing out his hair, and making his bed on the ground. [58]

It is the invariable practice of the Buddhas to survey the world at dawn. Therefore one day, as the Buddha surveyed the world, this Naked Ascetic Jambuka entered the Net of his Knowledge. “What will happen?” pondered the Teacher. Straightway he perceived that Jambuka possessed the dispositions requisite for the attainment of Arahatship with the Supernatural Faculties. And he became aware of the following, “I will pronounce a single Stanza, and at the conclusion of the Stanza, beginning with this ascetic, eighty-four thousand living beings will obtain Comprehension of the Law. Through this man a great multitude will win Salvation.”

On the following day the Teacher made his round for alms in Rājagaha, and when he had returned from his round, he said to the Elder Ānanda, “Ānanda, I intend to go to the Naked Ascetic Jambuka.” “Reverend Sir, can it be that you intend to go to him?” “Yes, Ānanda, I do.” Having so said, as the shadows of evening lengthened, the Teacher set out to go to him. Thereupon the deities thought, “The Teacher is going to visit the Naked Ascetic Jambuka. Now Jambuka lives on a flat rock polluted by excrement, urine, and toothsticks. We must therefore cause rain to fall.” So by their own supernatural power they caused rain to fall, though but for a moment. Immediately the flat rock was pure and spotless. For the deities caused the five kinds of rain to fall upon that rock.

In the evening, therefore, the Teacher went to the Naked Ascetic Jambuka. And making a slight noise, he said, “Jambuka!” Jambuka thought to himself, “What wicked fellow is this that addresses me as Jambuka?” And he replied, “Who is it?” “It is I, a monk.” “What do you wish, great monk?” “Give me lodging here for just one night.” “There is no lodging to be had here, great monk.” [59] “Jambuka, do not act thus; give me lodging for just one night. For monks seek the society of a monk, men the society of men, and animals the society of animals.” “But are you a monk?” “Yes, I am a monk.” “If you are a monk, where is your gourd, where is your wooden spoon, where is your sacrificial thread?” “All these I use; but because I find it troublesome to carry them about with me to every place I visit, I obtain them within and take them with me when I go.” At this Jambuka was offended and said, “So you intend to take them with you when you go?” Then said the Teacher to him, “Never mind, Jambuka; tell me where I can find lodging.” “There is no lodging to be had here, great monk.”

Now there was a certain mountain-cave not far from Jambuka’s place of abode; and the Teacher, pointing to it, asked, “Is there anyone who lives in that mountain-cave?” “No one lives there, great monk.” “Well then, permit me to lodge there.” “Suit yourself, great monk.” So the Teacher prepared a bed in the mountain-cave and lay down. In the first watch the Four Great Kings came to wait upon the Teacher, illuminating the four quarters with one blaze of light. Jambuka saw the light and thought to himself, “What is that light?” In the second watch came Sakka king of the gods. Jambuka saw him and thought to himself, “Who is that?” In the third and last watch drew near Mahā Brahma, who with one finger can illuminate one Cakkavala, with two fingers two Cakkavāḷas, and with ten fingers ten, illuminating the whole forest. Jambuka [60] saw him also and thought to himself, “Who can that be?”

So early the next morning he went to the Teacher, greeted him in a friendly manner, and taking his stand respectfully on one side, asked the Teacher, “Great monk, who were they that came to you, illuminating the four quarters as they came?” “The Four Great Kings.” “Why did they come to you?” “To wait upon me.” “But are you superior to the Four Great Kings?” “Yes, Jambuka, I am Sovereign Lord of the Four Great Kings.” “And who was it that came to you in the second watch?” “Sakka king of the gods.” “Why did he come to you?” “He came also to wait upon me.” “But are you superior to Sakka king of the gods?” “Yes, Jambuka, I am superior to Sakka. Indeed, Sakka stands to me in the relation of a novice, as it were; one who does for me anything I need to have done; my physician in time of sickness.” “Who was it that came to you in the third and last watch, illuminating the whole forest as he came?” “That was Mahā Brahma, to whom blundering, stumbling Brahmans and others cry, ‘Praise be to Mahā Brahma!’” “But are you superior also to Mahā Brahma?” “Yes, Jambuka, for I am he that is Brahma over Brahma.”

“You are a wonderful person, great monk. But I have dwelt here for fifty-five years, and in all these years not a single person has come to wait upon me; indeed, during all this period of time I have lived upon the wind and have remained in a standing posture, and yet none have come to wait upon me.” Then said the Teacher to him, “Jambuka, you have succeeded in deceiving the foolish multitude living in the world, and now you are attempting to deceive me. Is it not a fact that during these fifty-five years you have eaten excrement, made your bed upon the ground, gone naked, and pulled out your hair with a Palmyra comb? [61] But you have deceived the world, saying, ‘My food is the wind; I stand on one foot; I sit not down; I lie not down.’ Now you are seeking to deceive me also. It is because of the low, false views which you held in a previous state of existence that you have all this time eaten excrement, made your bed upon the ground, gone naked, and pulled out your hair with a Palmyra comb. So also now you hold only low, false views.” “But, great monk, what was it I did in a previous state of existence?” Then the Teacher related to him the evil deed he had committed in a previous state of existence.

As the Teacher related the story to him, he was deeply moved, a sense of modesty and fear of mortal sin sprang up within him, and he crouched upon the ground. The Teacher tossed him a bath-robe, and he put it on. Then he saluted the Teacher and sat down respectfully on one side. When the Teacher had completed his story of Jambuka’s former deed, he preached the Law to him. At the conclusion of the Teacher’s discourse he attained Arahatship together with the Supernatural Faculties. Then, saluting the Teacher, he arose from his seat and asked the Teacher to admit him and to profess him as a member of the Order.

Thus finally was exhausted the demerit he acquired by an evil deed committed in a previous state of existence. For this Jambuka, by reason of the four insults with which he had insulted a Great Elder who was an Arahat, was tormented in the Avici Hell until this great earth was elevated a league and three quarters; and because the fruit of his evil deed was not yet exhausted, he lived in shame for fifty-five years. But because this evil deed, once the fruit thereof was exhausted, could not destroy the fruit of the meditations which he had performed for twenty thousand years, therefore was it that the Teacher stretched forth his right hand to him and said, “Come, monk! lead the holy life.” At that moment his characteristics as a layman vanished, and he took on the form of an Elder sixty years old, furnished with the Eight Requisites. [62]

We are told that this was the day when the inhabitants of Anga and Magadha came to him with offerings. When, therefore, the inhabitants of both kingdoms came to him with offerings and saw the Tathāgata, they thought, “Which is the greater of the two, our noble ascetic Jambuka or the monk Gotama?” And they came to the following conclusion, “Were the hermit Gotama the greater, this ascetic would go to the monk Gotama. But by reason of the superior greatness of the Naked Ascetic Jambuka, the monk Gotama has come to him.” When the Teacher perceived the thought of the multitude, he said, “Jambuka, resolve the doubt of your supporters.”

“Reverend Sir,” replied Jambuka, “this is the very thing I should most like to do.” And forthwith entering into the fourth trance and arising therefrom, he soared into the air to the height of a palmyra-tree. Then he cried out,” Reverend Sir, the Exalted One is my Teacher, and I am his disciple.” Then he descended to the ground and saluted the Teacher. After that, again soaring into the air to the height of two palmyra-trees, then to the height of three palmyra-trees, and so on to the height of seven palmyra-trees, he proclaimed his own discipleship and descended.

When the multitude saw this, they thought, “Oh, wonderful indeed and of lofty powers are the Buddhas!” Thereupon the Teacher addressed the multitude, saying, “All this time has this ascetic lived here, placing on the tip of his tongue with the tip of a blade of kusa grass the food which you have brought to him, and saying, ‘Thus I am fulfilling the duties of an ascetic’ But were he now to abstain from food through a feeling of remorse, these ascetic practices would not be worth a sixteenth part of the meritorious thought which actuates him to abstain from food.” And joining the connection, he expounded the Law by pronouncing the following Stanza,

70. Though month after month with the tip of a blade of kusa grass a simpleton should eat his food.

Yet is he not worth a sixteenth part of them that have well weighed the Law.