Buddhist Legends: Books 1–26

I. 4. “NOT HATRED FOR HATRED”1

For not by hatred. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana with reference to a certain barren woman. [45]

It appears that a certain householder’s son, on the death of his father, did all the farm and household work by himself alone and took care of his mother to boot. Now his mother said to him, “Dear son, I will fetch you a young woman to wife.” “Dear mother, speak not thus; my sole desire is to care for you so long as you shall live.” “Dear son, you alone are doing all the farm and household work, and I am not satisfied to have it so; let me fetch you a young woman to wife.” He protested time and again, and then held his peace.

The mother left the house, intending to go to a certain family and fetch home the daughter of that family. Her son asked her, “To what family are you going?” “To such and such a family.” He would not let her go to the family she had in mind, but told her of a family he liked better. So she went to the family he fancied, selected a wife

1 With this story cf. Stories xxi. 2 and x. 8 a and Jātakas 510 and 513. Text: N i. 45-53.

for her son, and having set the day, installed her in her son’s house. The woman turned out to be barren.

Then said the mother to the son, “Son, you had me fetch you a wife you yourself selected. Now she turns out to be barren. Without children a family [46] dies out, and the line is not continued. Therefore let me fetch you another young woman to wife.” “Enough said, dear mother,” replied the son; but the mother repeated her request time and again. The barren wife heard the talk and thought to herself, “It is certain that sons cannot disobey the words of their mothers and fathers. Now if she fetches him a wife who is fruitful, they will treat me like a slave. Suppose I were to fetch him a young woman of my own selection?”

So the barren wife went to a certain family and selected a young woman for him. But she immediately encountered the opposition of the young woman’s parents, who said to her, “Woman, what say you?” The barren wife replied, “I am a barren woman, and without children a family dies out. If your daughter gives birth to a son, she will be mistress of the family and the wealth thereof. Therefore give your daughter to me for my husband.” She finally prevailed upon them to grant her request, and taking the young woman with her, installed her in her husband’s house.

Then this thought occurred to her, “If my rival gives birth to a son or a daughter, she alone will be mistress of the household. I must see to it that she shall not give birth to a child.” So the barren wife said to her rival, “As soon as you have conceived a child in your womb, pray let me know.” “Very well,” replied her rival. In accordance with her promise, as soon as she had conceived, she told her fellow-wife.

Now the barren wife was accustomed to give her rival a meal of rice-porridge regularly every day with her own hand. [47] So along with the food she gave her a drug to cause abortion. The result was that her rival had a miscarriage. Again the second time the fruitful wife conceived a child and informed the barren wife. And again her fellow-wife did as before and brought about a miscarriage.

The women who lived in the neighborhood asked the fruitful wife, “Is not your rival putting an obstacle in your way?” When she told them the facts, they said to her, “You foolish woman, why did you do this? This woman was afraid you would get the upper hand. So she mixed a preparation to bring about a miscarriage and gave it to you. Do not tell her again.” Accordingly the third time the fruitful wife said nothing to her rival. But the barren wife, seeing her belly, said to her, “Why did you not tell me that you had conceived a child?” Said the fruitful wife, “It was you who brought me here, and twice you have caused me to suffer a miscarriage; why should I tell you?”

“Now I am lost,” thought the barren wife. From that time on she watched to catch her rival off her guard. When the babe in the womb was fully matured, she took advantage of an opportunity, mixed a drug, and gave it to her. But because the babe in her womb was fully mature, an abortion was out of the question, and the result was that the child lodged across the neck of the womb. Immediately the mother suffered acute pains and feared that her hour had come.

“You have killed me!” she cried. “It was you alone that brought me here; it was you alone that killed my three children. Now I also am going to die. When I have passed out of this existence, may I be reborn as an ogress able to devour your children.” And having made this Earnest Wish, she died, [48] and was reborn in that very house as a cat. The husband seized the barren wife, and saying to her, “It was you who destroyed my family,” beat her soundly with elbows, knees, and otherwise. As the result of the beating she received, she sickened and died, and was reborn in that very house as a hen.

So the fruitful wife was reborn as a cat, and the barren wife was reborn as a hen. The hen laid eggs, and the cat came and ate them. This happened three times. Said the hen, “Three times have you eaten my eggs, and now you are seeking an opportunity to eat me too. When I have passed out of this existence, may I be able to eat you and your offspring.” And having made this Earnest Wish, she passed out of that existence, and was reborn as a leopardess. The cat was reborn as a doe.

So the barren wife, at the end of her existence as a hen, was reborn as a leopardess; and the fruitful wife, at the end of her existence as a cat, was reborn as a doe. Thrice the doe brought forth young, and thrice the leopardess went and devoured the doe’s offspring. When the doe came to die, she said, “Thrice this beast has devoured my offspring, and now she purposes to devour me too. When I have passed out of this existence, may I be able to devour her and her offspring.” And having made this Earnest Wish, she was reborn as an ogress. When the leopardess passed out of that existence, she was reborn at Sāvatthi as a young woman of station.

So the fruitful wife, at the end of her existence as a doe, was reborn as an ogress; and the barren wife, at the end of her existence as a leopardess, was reborn at Sāvatthi as a young woman of station. When the latter grew up, she was married and went to live with her husband’s family in a little settlement near the gate of the city. After a time she gave birth to a son. The ogress disguised herself as a dear friend of the young woman and went to see her. “Where is my friend?” said the ogress. “In the inner room; she has just given birth to a child.” “Did she give birth to a son or a daughter? I should like to see her.” So saying, the ogress went in. While pretending to be looking at the child, she seized him, devoured him, and then went out. Again a second time she devoured a child of the young wife in the same way.

The third time the young wife was great with child she addressed her husband, “Husband, in this place an ogress has devoured two sons of mine and escaped. [49] This time I intend to go to the house of my parents to give birth to my child.”

Now at this time that ogress was away doing her turn at drawing water. (For Vessavana’s ogresses take their turn at drawing water from lake Anotatta, passing it along from the source. At the expiration of four or five months they are released; the others die of exhaustion.) The moment the ogress was released from her turn at drawing water she went quickly to the young wife’s house and inquired, “Where is my friend?” “Where you will not see her. There is an ogress that devours every child she bears in this house, and therefor, she has gone to the house of her parents.” “She may go wherever she likes, but she will not escape from me.” Spurred on by an impulse of hatred, the ogress dashed towards the city.

On the day appointed for the naming of the child the mother bathed him, gave him a name, and then said to her husband, “Husband, now we will go back to our own home.” Accordingly she took the boy in her arms and set out with her husband along the path leading through the grounds of the monastery. When they reached the monastery pool, the young wife gave the boy to her husband and bathed in the pool. When she had finished her bath, her husband bathed in the pool. While the husband was bathing, the wife remained near, giving suck to her child.

Just then the ogress drew near. The young wife saw her coming and recognized her. Immediately she screamed with a loud voice, “Husband! husband! come quickly! come quickly! here is that ogress!” Not daring to wait until her husband came, [50] she turned and dashed into the monastery.

Now at this time the Teacher was preaching the Law in the midst of the congregation. The young wife laid her boy at the feet of the Tathāgata and said, “I give you this child; spare the life of my son.” The deity Sumana, who resided in the embattled chamber over the gate, prevented the ogress from entering. The Teacher addressed the Elder Ānanda, saying, “Go, Ānanda, summon that ogress within.” The Elder summoned her within. The young wife said, “Here she comes, Reverend Sir.” Said the Teacher, “Let her come; make no noise.”

When the ogress came and stood before him, the Teacher said,” Why have you so done? Had you not come face to face with a Buddha like me, you would have cherished hatred towards each other for an aeon, like the Snake and the Mongoos,1 who trembled and quaked with enmity, like the Crows and the Owls. 2 Why do you return hatred for hatred? Hatred is quenched by love, not by hatred.” And when he had thus spoken, he pronounced the following Stanza,

5. For not by hatred are hatreds ever quenched here in this world.

By love rather are they quenched. This is an eternal law. [51]

At the conclusion of the Stanza the ogress was established in the Fruit of Conversion.

The Teacher said to the woman, “Give your child to this ogress.” “I am afraid to, Reverend Sir.” “Fear not. You have no reason to be alarmed because of her.” The young wife gave her child to the ogress. The ogress kissed and caressed him, gave him back again to his mother, and began to weep. The Teacher asked her, “Why do you weep?” “Reverend Sir, in the past I have managed somehow or other to get a living, but I have never had enough to eat. Now how am I to live?” Then the Teacher comforted her, saying, “Do not worry.” And turning to the mother, he said, [52] “Take this ogress home with you, let her live in your own house, and feed her with the choicest rice-porridge.”

So the young wife took the ogress home with her, lodged her on the central rafter of the hut, and fed her with the choicest rice-porridge. Now when the rice was threshed and the flail was raised, she feared that it would strike her head. So she said to her friend, “I shall not be able to live here any longer; lodge me elsewhere.” She was lodged successively in the flail-hut, the water-chatty, the bake-house, the storeroom for nimbs, the dust-heap, and the village gate. But she refused

1 Panchatantra, Book v, Frame-story, Harvard Oriental Series, xiv., p. 131. 2 Panchatantra, Book iii, Frame-story, ibidem, p. 90.

to live in any of these places, saying, “Here the flail rises as if it would split my head in two; here boys empty out slops; here dogs lie down; here boys attend to nature’s needs; here they throw away sweepings; here village boys practice fortune-telling.” So they lodged her in a quiet place by herself outside of the village, and there they brought her the choicest rice-porridge.

The ogress said to her friend, “This year there will be abundance of rain; therefore plant your crops in a dry place. This year there will be a drought; therefore plant your crops in a moist place.” Other people’s crops were destroyed either by excessive moisture or by drought, but the crops of the young wife flourished above measure.

People asked the young wife, “Woman, your crops are destroyed neither by excessive moisture nor by drought. When you plant your crops, you seem to know in advance whether the season will be wet or dry. How is this?” The young wife replied, “I have a friend, an ogress, [53] who tells me whether the season will be wet or dry; and I plant my crops according to her directions on high or low ground. Don’t you see? Every day the choicest rice-porridge and other kinds of food are carried out of our house; to her are they carried. Do you also carry the choicest rice-porridge and other kinds of food to her, and she will look after your crops also.”

Straightway all the residents of the city rendered honor to her. On her part, from that time forth, she looked after the crops of all. And she received abundant gifts and a large retinue. Subsequently she established the Eight Ticket-foods, which are kept up even to this present day.

I. 5. THE QUARRELSOME MONKS OF KOSAMBI

But others do not understand. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana with reference to the monks of Kosambi.

1 Parallels: Jātaka 428: iii. 486-490; Vinaya, Mahā Vagga, x. 1-5: i. 337-357; Udāna, iv. 5: 41-42. The story of the quarrel among the monks is almost word for word the same as Jātaka 428, which in turn is derived from the Vinaya. The story of the Buddha’s residence in Protected Forest with an elephant for his attendant is for the most part an elaboration of Vinaya, i. 350-357. The story of the monkey is an original touch of the redactor. The redactor follows the Vinaya account rather than that of the Uādna. Text: N i. 53-66.

5 a. Quarrel among the monks

For at Kosambi, in Ghosita monastery, resided two monks, each with a retinue of five hundred monks. Of the two monks, one was a student of the Discipline, the other a preacher of the Law, One day the preacher of the Law, after easing himself, left in a vessel what remained of the water in which he had washed in the bathroom and came out. Afterwards the student of the Discipline went [54] in and saw the water. When he came out, he asked his companion, “Brother, was it you that left the water?” “Yes, brother.” “But do you not know that it is a sin so to do?” “Indeed I do not.” “But, brother, it is a sin.” “Well then, I will make satisfaction for it.” “Of course, brother, if you did it unintentionally, inadvertently, it is no sin.” Thus the preacher of the Law came to look upon the sin as no sin.

Notwithstanding, the student of the Discipline said to his own pupils, “This preacher of the Law, although he has committed sin, does not realize it.” They, seeing the pupils of the preacher of the Law, said, “Your preceptor, although he has committed sin, does not realize it.” The preacher’s pupils went and informed their own preceptor. The preacher of the Law spoke thus, “This student of the Discipline said before, ‘It’s no sin.’ Now he says, ‘It is a sin.’ He’s a liar.” The preacher’s pupils went and said, “Your teacher is a liar.” Thus did they foment a quarrel between the two. Then the student of the Discipline, seizing the opportunity, pronounced sentence of excommunication against the preacher of the Law for failing to recognize his sin. Thenceforth even the supporters who furnished them the Requisites formed two factions. Even the nuns receiving instruction, even the protecting deities; their friends and intimates, the deities who dwell in the sky; beginning with these and extending to the world of Brahma, all beings, even the unconverted, formed two factions. The quarrel extended from the Realm of the Four Great Kings to the Heaven of the Gods Sublime.

Now a certain monk drew near the Tathāgata and told him that those who pronounced the sentence of excommunication held the view that the monk had been excommunicated according to law; [55] but that the partisans of the excommunicated monk held the view that he had been excommunicated contrary to law, and that the latter had gathered round in support of him, in spite of the fact that those who pronounced the sentence of excommunication forbade them to do so. Twice the Exalted One sent word, “Let them be united,” and received the reply, “Venerable Sir, they refuse to be united.” The third time he exclaimed, “The congregation of monks is rent asunder! The congregation of monks is rent asunder!” So saying, he went to them and pointed out to those who had pronounced sentence of excommunication the wrong involved in their act, and to those who had failed to recognize sin the wrong involved in theirs. Again he enjoined upon them the holding of fast-day and other ceremonies right there within the boundary, and laid down the rule that those who quarreled in refectories and elsewhere were to occupy separate seats in the refectory.

Hearing that they were quarreling again, he went to them, and beginning his discourse with the words, “Enough, monks! No quarreling!” he continued, “Monks, quarrels, strifes, contentions, disputes, — all these are unprofitable. For because of a quarrel even a tiny quail brought about the destruction of a noble elephant.” And he told the Birth-Story of the Tiny Quail.1 Continuing, he said: “Monks, be united; engage not in disputes. For because of a dispute many thousand quails lost their lives.” And he told the Birth-Story of the Quails.2

But in spite of this they paid no attention to his words, and a certain heretical teacher, who wished the Tathāgata to be relieved of annoyance, said to him, “Reverend Sir, let the Exalted One, the Lord of Truth, remain at home. Reverend Sir, let the Exalted One live a life of inaction and ease in this present world. [56] We shall make ourselves notorious by our quarrels, strifes, contentions, and disputes.” Thereupon the Tathāgata told the following Story of the Past:3

“Once upon a time, monks, Brahmadatta reigned at Benāres as king of Kāsi. Brahmadatta fought against Dighati Kosala, took away his kingdom, and killed him while he was living in disguise. Dighati’s son. Prince Dighavu, although he knew that Brahmadatta was the murderer of his father, spared his life. Thenceforth they were at peace with each other. Such, monks, is said to have been the patience and gentleness of these kings who took scepter and sword. How much more, monks, should you, who have retired from the world under a Law and Discipline so well taught, let your light so shine in this world as to be known of men as patient and gentle.” Thus did the Teacher admonish them.

1 Jātaka 357: iii. 174-177. 2 Jātaka 33: i. 208-210. Cf. Panchatantra, Book ii. Frame-story. 3 For a translation of the complete version of this beautiful story, see Sacred Books of the East, xvii (Vinaya Texts), pp. 293-305.

But in spite of his admonition he was unable to reunite them. Thereupon, unhappy because of the crowded conditions under which he lived, he reflected, “Under present; conditions I am crowded and jostled and live a life of discomfort. Moreover, these monks pay no attention to what I say. Suppose I were to retire from the haunts of men and live a life of solitude.”

After making his round for alms in Kosambi, without bidding the Congregation of Monks farewell, he took his own bowl and robe, and went quite alone to the village of Balaka, the salt-maker, where he discoursed to the Elder Bhagu on the solitary life; thence he went to Eastern Bamboo Deer-park, where he discoursed to the three youths of station on the bliss of the sweets of concord; [57] and from there he went to Parileyyaka. There, at the foot of a beautiful Sal-tree, in Protected Forest, near Parileyyaka, the Exalted One spent the rainy season pleasantly, attended by the elephant Parileyyaka.

When the lay brethren resident at Kosambi went to the monastery and failed to see the Teacher, they asked, “Reverend Sirs, where has the Teacher gone?” “To Parileyyaka Forest.” “For what reason?” “He strove to reunite us, but we would not be reunited.” “Do you mean, Reverend Sirs, that after receiving admission as monks at the hands of the Teacher, you refused to agree when he asked you to do so?” “Precisely so, brethren.” People said, “These monks, after receiving admission at the hands of the Teacher, were unwilling to patch up their differences when the Teacher asked them to do so. It’s all their fault that we were unable to see the Teacher. To these monks, assuredly, we will neither give seats nor offer respectful salutations or other civilities.” And from that time on they showed them not so much as a sign of civility.

The monks got so little food that they were nearly famished, and it required only a few days to bring them to a better state of mind. Then they confessed their sins, one to another, asked to be pardoned, and said, “Brethren, we are reconciled; be to us as before.” “Reverend Sirs, have you begged the Teacher’s pardon?” “No, we haven’t, brethren.” “Well then, beg the Teacher’s pardon, and as soon as the Teacher has pardoned you, we will be to you as before.” But as the rainy season was then at its height, they were unable to go to the Teacher and spent the rainy season very uncomfortably. The Teacher, however, spent the time pleasantly, attended by an elephant. For this elephant, of noble breed, left his herd [58] and entered the forest for the sole purpose of having a pleasant time. As it is said,

5 b. The Buddha, the elephant, and the monkey

“Here I live, crowded by elephants, female elephants, elephant calves, and young elephants. They have chewed off the tips of the grass I eat; they eat branch after branch I break down; they muddy the water I have to drink. Whenever I plunge into the water, or come up out of the water, the female elephants come and rub against my body. Suppose I were to retire from the herd and live all alone.”

So then this noble elephant withdrew from the herd and drew near to Parileyyaka, to Protected Forest, to the foot of the beautiful Sal-tree; even to where the Exalted One was, thither did he draw near. And when he had drawn near and paid obeisance to the Exalted One, he looked all about for a broom. And seeing none, he smote with his foot the beautiful Sal-tree below and hewed away with his trunk at the Sal-tree above. And taking a branch, he then swept the ground.

Then he took a water-pot in his trunk and procured drinking-water. And as hot water was required, he prepared hot water. (How was that possible?) First he produced sparks with a fire-drill which he worked with his trunk; then he dropped sticks of wood on the sparks. Thus did he kindle a fire. In the fire he heated small stones; these he rolled along with a stick and dropped into a little depression in the rock. Then, lowering his trunk and finding the water hot enough, he went and made obeisance to the Teacher. The Teacher asked, “Is your water hot, Parileyyaka?” and went there [59] and bathed. After that the elephant brought various kinds of wild fruits and presented them to the Teacher.

Now when the Teacher enters the village for alms, the elephant takes his bowl and robe, puts them on top of his head, and accompanies him. When the Teacher reaches the vicinity of the village, he bids the elephant bring him his bowl and robe, saying, “Parileyyaka, farther than this you are not permitted to go. Fetch me my bowl and robe.” The Teacher then enters the village, and the elephant stands right there until he returns. When the Teacher returns, the elephant advances to meet him, takes his bowl and robe just as he did before, deposits them in the Teacher’s place of abode, pays him the usual courtesies, and fans him with the branch of a tree. At night, to ward off danger from beasts of prey, he takes a big club in his trunk, says to himself, “I’ll protect the Teacher,” and back and forth in the interstices of the forest he paces until sunrise. (From that time forth, we are told, that forest was called “Protected Forest.”) When the sun rises, the elephant gives the Teacher water wherewith to bathe his face, and in the manner before related performs all of the other duties.

Now a monkey saw the elephant up and doing each day, performing the lesser duties for the Tathāgata, and he said to himself, “I’ll do something too.” One day, as he was running about, he happened to see some stick-honey free from flies. He broke the stick off, took the honey-comb, stick and all, broke off a plantain-leaf, placed the honey on the leaf, [60] and offered it to the Teacher. The Teacher took it. The monkey watched to see whether or not he would eat it. He observed that the Teacher, after taking the honey, sat down without eating. “What can be the matter?” thought he. He took hold of the stick by the tip, turned it over and over, carefully examining it as he did so, whereupon he discovered some insect’s eggs. Having removed these gently, he again gave the honey to the Teacher. The Teacher ate it.

The monkey was so delighted that he leaped from one branch to another and danced about in great glee. But the branches he grasped and the branches he stepped on broke off. Down he fell on the stump of a tree and was impaled. So he died. And solely because of his faith in the Teacher he was reborn in the World of the Thirty-three in a golden mansion thirty leagues in measure, with a retinue of a thousand celestial nymphs.

It became known over all the Land of the Rose-apple that the Teacher was residing in Protected Forest, attended by a noble elephant. From the city of Sāvatthi, Anāthapiṇḍika, Visākhā, the eminent female lay disciple, and other such great personages sent the following message to the Elder Ānanda,

“Reverend Sir, obtain for us the privilege of seeing the Teacher.” Likewise five hundred monks residing abroad approached the Elder Ānanda at the close of the rainy season and made the following request, “It is a long time, Ānanda, since we have heard a discourse on the Law from the lips of the Exalted One. We should like, brother Ānanda, if you please, to have the privilege of hearing a discourse on the Law from the lips of the Exalted One.”

So the Elder took those monks with him and went to Protected Forest. When he reached the forest, he thought to himself, “The

1 Cf. Story xxiii. 7.

Tathāgata has resided in solitude for a period of three months. It is therefore not fitting that I should approach him all at once with so many monks as these.” [61] Accordingly he left those monks outside and approached the Teacher quite alone. When the elephant Parileyyaka saw the Elder, he took his staff and rushed forward. The Teacher looked around and said to the elephant, “Come back, Parileyyaka; do not drive him away. He is a servitor of the Buddha.” The elephant immediately threw away his staff and requested the privilege of taking the Elder’s bowl and robe. The Elder refused. The elephant thought to himself, “If he is versed in the rules of etiquette, he will refrain from placing his monastic requisites on the stone slab where the Teacher is accustomed to sit.” The Elder placed his bowl and robe on the ground. (For those who are versed in the rules of etiquette never place their own monastic requisites on the seat or bed of their spiritual superiors.) The Elder, after saluting the Teacher, seated himself on one side.

The Teacher asked him, “Did you come alone?” The Elder informed him that he had come with five hundred monks. “But where are they?” asked the Teacher. “I did not know how you would feel about it, and therefore I left them outside and came in alone.” “Tell them to come in.” The Elder did so. The Teacher exchanged friendly greetings with the monks. Then the monks said to the Teacher,

“Reverend Sir, the Exalted One is a delicate Buddha, a delicate prince. You must have endured much hardship, standing and sitting here alone as you have during these three months. For of course you had no one to perform the major and minor duties for you, no one to offer you water for bathing the face or to perform any of the other duties for you.” The Teacher replied,

“Monks, the elephant Parileyyaka performed all of these offices for me. For one who obtains such a companion as he may well live alone; did one fail to find such, [62] even so the life of solitude were better for him.” So saying, he pronounced these three Stanzas in the Nāga Vagga,

328. Should one find a prudent companion to walk with, an upright man and steadfast,

Let one walk with him, joyful, mindful, overcoming all dangers.

329. Should one not find a prudent companion to walk with, an upright man and steadfast,

Then like a king renouncing the kingdom he has conquered, let one walk alone,

Like an elephant roaming at will in an elephant-forest.

330. The life of solitude is better; one cannot be friends with a simpleton;

Let a man live in solitude, and do no evil deeds,

Taking his ease, like an elephant roaming at will in an elephant-forest.

At the conclusion of the Stanzas the five hundred monks were established in Arahatship.

The Elder Ānanda then delivered the message sent by Anāthapiṇḍika and the rest, saying, “Reverend Sir, fifty million Noble Disciples headed by Anāthapiṇḍika desire your return.” “Very well,” said the Teacher, “take bowl and robe.” Causing them to take bowl and robe, he set out. The elephant went and stood crosswise on the road. “Reverend Sir, what is the elephant doing?” “Monks, he desires to give alms to you. For a long time he has served me; it is not right to hurt his feelings. Turn back, monks!” The Teacher and the monks [63] turned back. The elephant entered the forest, gathered bananas and various other fruits, heaped them together, and on the following day gave them to the monks. The five hundred monks were unable to dispose of them all. When they had finished eating, the Teacher took bowl and robe and set out. The elephant, threading his way through the monks, went and stood crosswise in front of the Teacher.

“Reverend Sir, what is the elephant doing?” “Monks, having sped your parting, he desires to make me turn back.” Said the Teacher to the elephant, “Parileyyaka, I am going now, never to return. You cannot hope in this existence to enter into states of trance, or to attain Spiritual Insight, or the Paths, or the Fruits. Halt!” When the elephant heard that, he thrust his trunk into his mouth and retreated very slowly, weeping as he went. (Could he have made the Teacher turn back, he would have cared for him in the very same way to the end of his days.)

Now when the Teacher reached the vicinity of the village, he said, “Parileyyaka, farther than this it is unsafe for you to go. The habitations of men are fraught with danger to you. Halt!” The elephant halted where he was and wept. As the Teacher slowly passed out of sight, he died of a broken heart. Through faith in the Teacher he was reborn in the World of the Thirty-three in a golden mansion thirty leagues in measure, with a retinue of a thousand celestial nymphs. God Parileyyaka was his name.

The Teacher arrived in due course at Jetavana. The monks of Kosambi, [64] hearing of the Teacher’s return to Sāvatthi, went thither to beg his pardon. The king of Kosala, hearing that the quarrelsome monks of Kosambi had come to Sāvatthi, approached the Teacher and said, “Reverend Sir, I’ll not allow those monks to come into my country.” “Great king, these monks are good men; only because of a dispute they had with each other they paid no attention to my words. Now they are coming to beg my pardon; let them come, great king.” Anāthapiṇḍika also said, “I’ll not allow those monks to enter the monastery.” But the Teacher took issue with him as he had with the king, and he was silent.

Now when those monks reached Sāvatthi, the Exalted One gave orders that separate lodging should be prepared and given to them. The other monks neither sit nor stand in their company. One after another those who come ask the Teacher, “Where, Reverend Sir, are the quarrelsome monks of Kosambi?” The Teacher points them out, saying, “There they are!” “There they are! There they are!” One after another those who come point their fingers at them, until for shame they are unable to lift their heads. Then they threw themselves at the feet of the Exalted One and asked him to pardon them. Said the Teacher,

“Monks, grievous was the sin you committed when, after receiving admission as monks at the hands of a Buddha like me, in spite of my efforts to reconcile you, you refused to obey my words. Even wise men of old hearkened to the admonition of their mother and father under sentence of death, [65] disobeyed it not, even while their parents were being deprived of life, and afterwards established their sovereignty over two kingdoms.” So saying, he related the Kosambika Jātaka once more, concluding as follows,

“Thus, monks, Prince Dighavu, even while his mother and father were being deprived of life, disobeyed not their admonition and afterwards, obtaining Brahmadatta’s daughter in marriage, bore sway over the two kingdoms of Kāsi and Kosala. You, however, disobeyed my words, and thereby committed a grievous sin.” So saying, he pronounced the following Stanza,

6. But others do not understand that we must here control ourselves;

Yet let them understand this, and straight dissensions cease. [66]

At the conclusion of the Stanza the assembled monks were established in the Fruit of Conversion.

I. 6. KĀḶA JUNIOR AND KĀḶA SENIOR

Whoever lives looking for pleasure. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence near the city Setavya with reference to Kāḷa junior and Kāḷa senior, Culla Kāḷa and Mahā Kāḷa.

For Culla Kāḷa, Majjhima Kāḷa, and Mahā Kāḷa were three householders who lived in Setavya, and they were brothers. Culla Kāḷa and Mahā Kāḷa, the oldest and youngest respectively, used to travel abroad with their caravan of five hundred carts and bring home goods to sell, and Majjhima Kāḷa sold the goods they brought. Now on a certain occasion the two [67] brothers, taking wares of various kinds in their five hundred carts, set out for Sāvatthi, and halting between Sāvatthi and Jetavana, unharnessed their carts.

At eventide Mahā Kāḷa saw Noble Disciples, residents of Sāvatthi, with garlands and perfumes in their hands, going to hear the Law. “Where are they going?” he asked. Receiving the answer that they were going to hear the Law, he thought to himself, “I will go too.” So he addressed his youngest brother, “Dear brother, keep watch over the carts; I am going to hear the Law.” So saying, he went and paid obeisance to the Tathāgata and sat down in the outer circle of the congregation.

On that day the Teacher preached the Law in orderly sequence with reference to Mahā Kāḷa’s disposition of mind, and quoting the Sutta on the Aggregate of Suffering, and other Suttas, discoursed on the sinfulness and folly and contamination of sensual pleasures. Mahā Kāḷa, after listening to the discourse, thought to himself, “So a man must needs leave all things behind him when he goes hence. When a man goes to the world beyond, neither wealth nor kinsmen can follow him. Why should I continue to live the life of a householder? I will become a monk.” Accordingly, when the multitude had paid obeisance to the Teacher and departed, he requested the Teacher to receive him into the Order.

“Have you no kinsman of whom it is proper that you should ask permission?” inquired the Teacher. “I have a younger brother, Reverend Sir.” “Ask his permission.” “Very well, Reverend Sir.” So Mahā Kāḷa went to Culla Kāḷa and said to him, “Dear brother,

1 Derived from this story are Thera-Gāthā Commentary, exxxvi, and Rogers, Buddhaghosha’s Parables, iv, pp. 25-31. Text: N i. 66-77.

receive all this wealth.” [68] “But you, brother?” “I intend to retire from the world under the Teacher.” Culla Kāḷa used all manner of arguments to dissuade his brother from carrying out his intention, but in vain. Finally he said to him, “Very well, master; do as you wish.” So Mahā Kāḷa went and became a monk under the Teacher. Culla Kāḷa likewise became a monk. But the thought in Culla Kāḷa’s mind was, “After a time I will return to the world and take my brother with me.”

Somewhat later Mahā Kāḷa made his full profession, and approaching the Teacher, asked him, “How many duties are there in this Religion?” The Teacher informed him that there were two. Said Mahā Kāḷa, “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.” So he had the Teacher instruct him in the Pure Practice of a Burning-grounder, which leads to Arahatship. At the end of the first watch, when everyone else was asleep, he went to the burning-ground; and at dawn, before anyone else had risen, he returned to the monastery.

Now the keeper of the burning-ground, a certain woman named Kāḷī, whose duty was to burn the bodies of the dead, saw the Elder as he stood up and sat down and walked about. And she thought to herself, “Who can this be that comes here? I will find out about him.” But she was unable to find out what she wished to find out about him. So one night she lighted a lamp in the hut of the burning-ground, and taking son and daughter with her, hid herself on one side of the burning-ground. When she saw the Elder approach, she approached him, paid obeisance to him, and asked him, “Reverend Sir, does our noble monk reside in this place?” “Yes, lay sister.” “Reverend Sir, [69] those that reside in a burning-ground have certain rules to observe.” The Elder did not say, “Do you think I shall observe any rules of your telling?” Instead he said, “What ought I to do, lay sister?”

Said the keeper of the burning-ground, “Reverend Sir, they that reside in a burning-ground are bound to declare the fact to the keepers of the burning-ground, to the Chief Elder at the monastery, and to the village headman.” “Why?” “Thieves who commit depredations, when pursued by lawful owners of property, frequently flee to a burning-ground and leave their spoils there; then the owners come and threaten residents of the burning-ground with harm. But if the authorities are duly informed, they can avert trouble by saying, ‘We know for a fact that this reverend monk has resided here for such and such a length of time; he is no thief.’ For this reason you are bound to declare your intention to the authorities I have mentioned.”

Mahā Kāḷa then asked, “Is there anything else I ought to do?” “Reverend Sir, so long as your reverence resides in a burning-ground, you must abstain from fish, flesh, sesame, flour, oil, and molasses. You must not sleep by day. You must not be slothful. You must live with high resolve, exerting all the powers of your will, avoiding double-dealing and deceit. At eventide, when all are asleep, you must leave the monastery and come here; at dawn, before any have risen, you must return to the monastery.

“In case, Reverend Sir, while you reside in this burning-ground, you succeed in reaching the goal of the Religious Life, and they bring a dead body here and cast it away, I will place it on the funeral pyre, and rendering the usual honors with perfumes and garlands, I will perform the funeral rites over the body. If you do not succeed, I will light the pyre, drag the body along with a stake, [70] throw it outside, chop it to pieces with an axe, throw the pieces into the fire, and burn it.” The Elder said to her, “Very well, woman. But in case you should see a corpse which you think would afford me a suitable Subject of Meditation on Material Form, be good enough to tell me.” “Very well,” said she, promising him to do so.

In accordance with his intention the Elder Mahā Kāḷa performed his meditations in the burning-ground. The Elder Culla Kāḷa, however, busy and active, thinking always of the house-life, remembering son and wife, said to himself, “It is an excessively difficult task my brother is engaged in.”

Now a certain young woman of station was attacked by a disease, and the very moment the disease attacked her, she died, at eventide, without a sign of withering or weariness. In the evening her kinsfolk and friends brought her body to the burning-ground, with firewood, oil, and other requisites, and said to the keeper of the burning-ground, “Burn this body.” And paying the keeper the usual fee, they turned the body over to her and departed. When the keeper of the burning-ground removed the woman’s dress and beheld her beautiful golden-hued body, she straightway thought to herself, “This corpse is a suitable Subject of Meditation to show to his reverence.” So she went to the Elder, paid obeisance to him, and said, “I have a remarkably good Subject of Meditation; pray look at it, Reverend Sir.”

“Very well,” said the Elder. So he went and caused the dress which covered the corpse to be removed, and surveyed the body from the soles of the feet to the tips of the hair. Then he said, [71] “Throw this beautiful golden-hued body into the fire, and so soon as the tongues of fire have laid hold of it, please tell me.” So saying, he went to his own place and sat down.

The keeper of the burning-ground did as she was told and went and informed the Elder. The Elder came and surveyed the body. Where the flames had touched the flesh, the color of her body was like that of a mottled cow; the feet stuck out and hung down; the hands were curled back; the forehead was without skin. The Elder thought to himself, “This body, which but now caused those who looked thereon to forget the Sacred Word, has but now attained decay, has but now attained death.” And going to his night-quarters, he sat down, discerning clearly Decay and Death.

Impermanent are all existing things. It is their nature to come into existence and to decay.

They come into existence and perish. It is well when they have ceased to be.1

Having recited this Stanza, Mahā Kāḷa developed Spiritual Insight and attained Arahatship, together with the Supernatural Faculties.

When Mahā Kāḷa attained Arahatship, the Teacher, surrounded by the Congregation of Monks, traveling from place to place, arrived at Setavya and entered the Simsapa forest. Culla Kāḷa’s wives, hearing that the Teacher had arrived, thought to themselves, “Now we shall recover our husband.” So they sent and invited the Teacher. Now when a visit is expected from the Buddhas, it is customary to prepare a seat in a place which is not circumscribed, and in order to insure that this shall be done, it is customary for a single monk to go in advance and give warning. For the Seat of the Buddhas must be set in the midst, [72] on the right of the Buddha must be placed the seat of the Elder Sāriputta, on his left that of the Elder Mahā Moggallāna, and next to these on both sides must be arranged the seats for the Congregation of Monks. Therefore the Elder Mahā Kāḷa, standing in the place where the bowls and robes were kept, sent forth Culla Kāḷa, saying, “You go in advance and give warning to arrange the seats.”

From the moment the members of the household caught sight of Culla Kāḷa, they made a jest of him, putting the low seats at the ends

1 Dīgha, ii. 157.

where the Elders of the Assembly were to sit, and the high seats where the novices were to sit. Culla Kāḷa said to them, “Do not arrange the seats thus; do not put the low seats above and the high seats below.” But the women, pretending not to hear him, said, “What are you doing here, walking about? What right have you to give orders about the arrangement of the seats? By whose leave did you become a monk? Who made a monk of you? What made you come here?”

And having thus made a mock of him, they tore off his under and upper garments, clothed him with white garments instead, placed a garland-coil on his head, and packed him off, saying, “Go fetch the Teacher; we will arrange the seats.” Now those who have been monks but a short time, and have returned to the world before keeping a single residence, are without a sense of shame. Therefore Culla Kāḷa, free from any anxiety on the score of his clothing, went to the Teacher, paid obeisance to him, and taking with him the Congregation of Monks presided over by the Buddha, returned.

When the Congregation of Monks had finished their meal, Mahā Kāḷa’s wives thought to themselves, “Culla Kāḷa’s wives recovered their husband; let us also recover ours.” [73] Accordingly they invited the Teacher for the following day. But on this occasion a different monk came to arrange the seats, and so Mahā Kāḷa’s wives failed of an opportunity to embarrass him. When they had seated the Congregation of Monks presided over by the Buddha, they presented them with food. Now Culla Kāḷa had two wives, Majjhima Kāḷa had four, and Mahā Kāḷa had eight. Those of the monks who desired to eat sat down and ate their meal; those who desired to go out arose and went out. The Teacher sat down and ate his meal. When he had finished his meal, those women said to him, “Reverend Sir, Mahā Kāḷa will pronounce the formula of thanksgiving and then return; you go on ahead.” The Teacher said, “Very well,” and went on ahead.

When the Teacher reached the village gate, the Congregation of Monks were offended and said, “What a thing for the Teacher to do! Did he do it wittingly or unwittingly? Yesterday Culla Kāḷa came in advance, and that was the end of his monastic life. But to-day a different monk came in advance, and nothing of the sort happened.” The Teacher sent Mahā Kāḷa back and continued on his way. Said the monks, “The monk Mahā Kāḷa is virtuous and upright. Will they put an end to his monastic life?”

Hearing their words, the Teacher stopped and asked them, “What is it you are saying, monks?” When they told him, he said, “But, monks, you do not think that Mahā Kāḷa is like Culla Kāḷa?” “Yes, Reverend Sir; Culla Kāḷa has two wives, but Mahā Kāḷa has eight. If his eight wives gather about him and seize him, what can he do, Reverend Sir?” Said the Teacher, “Monks, do not speak thus. Culla Kāḷa lives a busy and active life and allows his thoughts to dwell on many pleasing objects. My son [74] Mahā Kāḷa, on the other hand, does not live looking for pleasure, but is immovable, like a mountain of solid rock.” So saying, he pronounced the following Stanzas,

7. Whoever lives looking for pleasure, exercising no restraint over his senses,

Immoderate in his enjoyments, indolent, inert,

Him Māra overpowers, even as the wind overpowers a tree of little strength.

8. Whoever lives looking not for pleasure, exercising restraint over his senses,

Moderate in his enjoyments, endowed with faith, exerting the power of his will,

Him Māra does not overpower, even as the wind does not overpower a mountain of rock. [77]

Mahā Kāḷa’s former wives surrounded him and said to him, “By whose leave did you become a monk? Will you now become a householder?” Having said this and much more to the same effect, they sought to strip him of his yellow robes. But the Elder, divining their intention, rose from the seat where he had been sitting and flew upwards by his supernatural power, rending the peak of the pagoda asunder. And having soared through the air, he descended to the ground as the Teacher spoke the concluding words of the Stanzas, praising the golden body of the Teacher and paying obeisance at the feet of the Tathāgata.

I. 7. DEVADATTA WEARS AN UNBECOMING ROBE

Whoever, not free from impurity. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana with reference to Devadatta’s assumption of the yellow robe at Rājagaha.

For on a certain occasion the two Chief Disciples, each with a retinue of five hundred monks, took leave of the Teacher and went from Jetavana to Rājagaha. The residents of Rājagaha united by twos and threes and in larger groups and gave alms in accordance with the custom of giving alms to visitors. Now one day Venerable Sāriputta

1 Cf. Jātaka 221: ii. 196-199. Text: N i. 77-83.

said, in making the Address of Thanksgiving, [78] “Lay brethren, one man himself gives alms, but does not urge another to give; that man receives in succeeding states of existence the blessing of wealth, but not the blessing of a retinue. Another man urges his neighbor to give, but does not himself give; that man receives in succeeding states of existence the blessing of a retinue, but not the blessing of wealth. Another man neither himself gives alms nor urges others to give; in succeeding states of existence that man receives not so much as a bellyful of sour rice-gruel, but is forlorn and destitute. Yet another both himself gives alms and urges his neighbor to give; that man in succeeding states of existence, in a hundred states of existence, in a thousand states of existence, in a hundred thousand states of existence, receives both the blessing of wealth and the blessing of a retinue.” Thus did Venerable Sāriputta preach the Law.

A certain wise man heard him and thought to himself, “Sir, the preaching of the Law is indeed a wonderful thing; well has the means of happiness been expounded. It behooves me to do works of merit productive of these two Attainments.” So he invited the Elder to take a meal with him, saying, “Reverend Sir, accept my hospitality for to-morrow.” “How many monks have you need of, lay disciple?” “But how many monks are there in your retinue, Reverend Sir?” “A thousand, lay disciple.” “Bring all your monks with you tomorrow and accept my hospitality, Reverend Sir.” The Elder accepted the invitation.

The lay disciple went through the street of the city urging others to give alms, saying, “Men and women, I have invited a thousand monks. How many monks will you be able to provide with food? how many will you?” The people promised to provide food, each according to his means, saying, [79] “We will give to ten; we will give to twenty; we will give to a hundred.” The lay disciple then directed them to bring their offerings to one place, saying, “Well then, let us assemble in one place and cook the food as one body. All of you bring together in one place the sesame, rice, ghee, molasses, and other articles of food.”

Now a certain householder presented a perfumed yellow robe worth a hundred thousand pieces of money, saying, “If your combined alms prove insufficient, sell this and devote the proceeds to supplying the deficiency; if they are sufficient, you may give it to whatever monk you please.” The combined offerings proved sufficient for the householder’s purpose; there was nothing lacking. The lay disciple therefore said to the men, “Honorable Sirs, this yellow robe, given by a certain householder for such and such a purpose, is superfluous. To whom shall we give it?”

Some said, “Let us give it to the Elder Sāriputta.” Others said, “The Elder Sāriputta has a way of coming and going when the crops are ripe. But Devadatta is our constant companion, both on festival days and on ordinary days, and is ever ready like a water-pot. Let us give it to him.” After a long discussion it was decided by a majority of four to give the robe to Devadatta. So they gave the robe to Devadatta. Devadatta cut it in two, fashioned it, dyed it, put one part on as an undergarment and the other as an upper garment, and wore it as he walked about. When they saw him wearing his new robe, they said, “This robe does not become Devadatta, but does become the Elder Sāriputta. Devadatta is going about wearing under and upper garments which do not become him.” [80]

Now a certain monk who lived in foreign parts came from Rājagaha to Sāvatthi, and when he had paid obeisance to the Teacher and expressed his pleasure at seeing him, the Teacher asked him about the well-being of the two Chief Disciples. The monk thereupon told him the whole episode of the robe from beginning to end. Said the Teacher, “Monks, this is not the first time Devadatta has worn robes unbecoming to him; in a previous state of existence also he wore robes which did not become him.” So saying, he related the following

7 a. Story of the Past: The elephant-hunter and the noble elephant

Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta ruled at Benāres, there dwelt at Benāres a certain elephant-hunter who made a living by killing elephants and marketing their tusks, claws, entrails, and solid flesh. Now in a certain forest several thousand elephants found pasture. One day, when they went to the forest, they saw some Private Buddhas. From that day, both going and coming, they fell down on their knees before the Private Buddhas before proceeding on their way.

One day the elephant-hunter saw their actions. Thought he, “It is only with great difficulty that I can kill these beasts. But every time they come and go they pay obeisance to the Private Buddhas. What is it they see that makes them pay obeisance?” Coming to the conclusion that it was the yellow robe, he thought to himself, “I too ought to get a yellow robe immediately.” So he went to a pool used by a certain Private Buddha, and while the latter was bathing and his robes lay on the bank, stole his robes. Then he went and sat down on the path by which the elephants came and went, with a spear in his hand and the robe drawn over his head. The elephants saw him, and taking him for a Private Buddha, paid obeisance to him, and then went their way. The elephant which came last of all he killed with a thrust of his spear. And taking the tusks and other parts which were of value and burying the rest of the dead animal in the ground, he departed. [81]

Later on the Future Buddha, who had been reborn as an elephant, became the leader of the elephants and the lord of the herd. At that time also the elephant-hunter was pursuing the same tactics as before. The Great Being observed the diminution of his retinue and asked, “Where do these elephants go that this herd has become so small?” “That we do not know, master.” The Great Being thought to himself, “Wherever they go, they must not go without my permission.” Then the suspicion entered his mind, “The fellow who sits in a certain place with a yellow robe drawn over his head must be causing the trouble; he will bear watching,”

So the leader of the herd sent the other elephants on ahead and brought up the rear himself, walking very slowly. When the rest of the elephants had paid obeisance and passed on, the elephant-hunter saw the Great Being approach, whereupon he gathered his robe together and threw his spear. The Great Being fixed his attention as he approached, and stepping backwards, avoided the spear. “This is the man who killed my elephants,” thought the Great Being, and forthwith sprang forwards to seize him. But the elephant-hunter jumped behind a certain tree and crouched down. Thought the Great Being, “I will encircle both the hunter and the tree with my trunk, seize the hunter, and dash him to the ground.” Just at that moment the hunter removed the yellow robe and allowed the elephant to see it. When the Great Being saw it, he thought to himself, “If I offend against this man, the reverence which thousands of Buddhas, Private Buddhas, and Arahats feel towards me will of necessity be lost.” Therefore he kept his patience. Then he asked the hunter,” Was it you that killed all these kinsmen of mine?” “Yes, master,” replied the hunter. “Why did you do so wicked a deed? You have put on robes which become those who are free from the passions, but which are unbecoming to you. In doing such a deed as this, you have committed a grievous sin.” So saying, he rebuked him again for the last time, saying, [82]

Whoever, not free from impurity, lacking self-restraint and truth,

Puts on the yellow robe, he is not worthy of the yellow robe.

Whoever is free from impurity, firmly established in the moral precepts,

Possessed of self-restraint and truth, he is worthy of the yellow robe.

“Unbecoming is the deed you have done,” said he.

When the Teacher had ended this lesson, he identified the characters in the Jātaka as follows, “At that time the elephant-hunter was Devadatta, and the noble elephant who rebuked him was I myself. Monks, this is not the first time Devadatta has worn a robe which was unbecoming to him; he did the same thing in a previous state of existence also.” So saying, he pronounced the following Stanzas,

9. Whoever, not free from impurity, lacking self-restraint and truth,

Puts on the yellow robe, he is not worthy of the yellow robe.

10. Whoever is free from impurity, firmly established in the moral precepts,

Possessed of self-restraint and truth, he is worthy of the yellow robe.

I. 8. THE CHIEF DISCIPLES

They who think to find the truth in falsehood. [83] This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Veḷuvana, and it was with reference to the announcement made by the Chief Disciples of Sañjaya’s refusal to go to the Teacher. From first to last the story is as follows:

8 a. Life of the Buddha

Four Incalculables and a hundred thousand cycles of time in the past our Teacher was born as a Brahman prince in the city of Amaravatī, and his name was Sumedha. After acquiring proficiency in all the arts, he renounced wealth amounting to countless millions which he inherited on the death of his mother and father, retired from the world, adopted the life of an anchorite, took up his residence in the Himalaya country, and there won for himself by Ecstatic Meditation the Supernatural Powers. Now it came to pass on a certain day that

1 8 a is a brief outline of Nidānakathā, Jātaka, i. 2^13-85^24: translated by Rhys Davids, Buddhist Birth Stories, pp. 2-119. 8 b is derived from Vinaya, MahāVagga, i. 23-24. 4: i. 39^23-43^7 Cf. Hardy, Manual of Buddhism, pp. 200-203. With 8 f {Dh. cm., I. 100^17-104^21) cf. Khuddaka Pāṭha Commentary, 202^4-206^6, and Peta Vatthu Commentary, 19^22-23^16. Peta Vatthu Commentary is here almost word for word the same as Khuddaka Pāha Commentary. Text: N i. 83-114.

Dipankara, Master of the Ten Forces, set out from Sudassana monastery to go to the city Ramma, and the populace came forth to clear the way. As Sumedha came flying through the air on that day, he observed that a road was being cleared. Therefore selecting for himself a portion of the road which had not yet been cleared, when the Teacher approached, he made of himself a bridge for him, spread his mantle of antelope skin in the mud, laid himself thereon, and said, “Let not the Teacher with his company of disciples tread upon the mud. Let him rather tread upon me; so let him proceed upon his journey.”

When the Teacher beheld Sumedha, he said, “Yonder prince is a nascent Buddha; four Incalculables and a hundred thousand cycles of time hence [84] he will become a Buddha named Gotama.” Thus did the Teacher Dipankara prophesy regarding the Brahman prince Sumedha. After Dipankara came the following Buddhas: Koṇḍañña, Maṅgala, Sumana, Revata, Sobhita, Anomadassī, Paduma, Nārada, Padumuttara, Sumedha, Sujāta, Piyadassī, Atthadassī, Dhammadassī, Siddhattha, Tissa, Phussa, Vipassī, Sikhī, Vessabhū, Kakusandha, Koṇāgamana, and Kassapa. One after another these twenty-four Buddhas arose in the world and enlightened the world, and from each of them the Brahman prince Sumedha received the prophecy that he should one day become a Buddha, Now after Sumedha had fulfilled the Ten Perfections and the Ten Minor Perfections and the Ten Major Perfections, making in all Thirty Perfections, he was reborn as Vessantara; and in his existence as Vessantara he bestowed mighty alms which caused the earth to quake, and in that existence also he renounced both son and wife. When the term of life allotted to him was come to an end, he was reborn in the Heaven of the Tusita gods; and when he had remained in this state of existence during the term of life allotted to him, the deities of the Ten Thousand Worlds assembled together and thus addressed him,

The time is come, mighty hero; descend into the womb of your mother;

Rescue the worlds of men and gods; discover the Region of the Deathless.

Thereupon he made the Five Great Observations, and passing from that state of existence, received a new existence in the royal household of the Sakiyas. In this royal household he was brought up amid great splendor and in the course of time attained auspicious youth. He spent his youth in three mansions appropriate to the three seasons of the year, enjoying splendor and majesty of sovereignty comparable to the splendor of the World of the Gods. In the course of time it came to pass that, as he proceeded on three successive days to the garden to amuse himself, he beheld the Three Heavenly Messengers; namely, a man worn out by old age, a man afflicted with disease, and a dead man. [85] On each of the three days he returned to his palace, overcome with emotion.

On the fourth day he beheld a man who had retired from the world and adopted the life of a monk. “It were well for me to retire from the world and adopt the life of a monk,” said he, conceiving a desire for the religious life; and with this thought in mind, he proceeded to the garden and spent the entire day sitting on the bank of the royal pool. While he sat there, the god Vissakamma approached him, disguised as a barber, and dressed him in rich apparel and adorned him with all manner of adornments. There also he received the message that a son had been born to him, Prince Rāhula; and realizing the strength of affection for a son, he reflected, “I must straightway break this bond, lest it become too strong for me.” In the evening, as he entered the city, Kisā Gotamī, daughter of his father’s sister, pronounced the following Stanza,

Happy indeed is that mother, happy indeed is that father,

Happy indeed is that wife whose husband is such a one as he.

When he heard Kisā Gotamī pronounce this Stanza, he said, “This woman has taught me where true happiness is to be found;” and taking off a string of pearls, he sent it to her as a present. Having entered his own residence, he lay down on the royal couch, and as he lay there beheld the disgusting appearance of the nautch-girls asleep. Heartsick he roused his courtier Channa, caused his steed Kanthaka to be brought to him, mounted Kanthaka, and taking Channa with him as his companion, and surrounded by the deities of the Ten Thousand Worlds, he went forth and made the Great Retirement. Proceeding to the bank of the river Anoma, he retired from the world and adopted the life of a monk.

Having adopted the life of a monk, he proceeded to Rājagaha and went about the city receiving alms. Then he retired to Paṇḍava mountain and seated himself in Paṇḍava mountain cave. While he was sitting there, the king of Magadha came to him and offered to bestow his kingdom upon him, but this offer of the king he straightway refused. He promised the king, however, to visit his kingdom so soon as he should attain Omniscience. Then he approached Āḷāra and Uddaka; but after following their system of discipline, failed to win the Attainment which distinguishes one who has attained Arahatship. Thereafter, for a period of six years, he engaged in the Great Struggle.

Early in the morning on the day of full moon of the month Visākhā [86] he ate rice-porridge presented to him by Sujata, caused his golden bowl to float on the river Neraiijara, and spent the day in Mahāvana Grove in the various degrees of Ecstatic Meditation. In the evening he listened to the praise of his noble qualities bestowed upon him by Kāḷa, King of the Dragons, ascended the Throne of Wisdom, received the bundles of grass presented to him by Sotthiya, scattered the grass before him, and formed the following resolution, “I will not abandon this posture until I have ceased utterly to care for the things of this world and my heart has thus rid itself of the Depravities.”

Thereupon he sat down facing the east, and before the sun had set overcame the host of Māra. In the first watch he acquired the knowledge of previous states of existence; in the second watch he acquired the knowledge of the vanishing of creatures from one state of existence and of their reappearance in another; at the conclusion of the last watch he acquired the knowledge of the Causes of Existence, fathoming the depths of Omniscience and acquiring the Ten Forces, the Four Subjects of Confidence, and all of the Noble Qualities. For seven weeks he remained on the Throne of Wisdom; in the eighth week he seated himself under the Goatherd’s Banyan-tree and meditated upon the depths of the Law, finally arriving at misgivings as to his ability to preach the Law to others.

Straightway Sahampati Brahma, accompanied by the retinue of the Ten Thousand Worlds with which Mahā Brahma is wont to be accompanied, approached him and requested him to preach the Law to others. Surveying the world with the eye of a Buddha, he acceded to Brahma’s request. “To whom, pray, shall I first preach the Law?” thought he. Surveying the world, he became aware of the death of Āḷāra and Uddaka. But remembering the devoted services of the Five Monks, he arose from his seat [87] and went to Kasipura, meeting Upaka by the way and talking with him.

On the day of full moon of the month Āsāḷha he arrived at Isipatana in the Deerpark, at the place of residence of the Five Monks; and when the Five Monks addressed him improperly, he instructed them how properly to address him. Then he set in motion the Wheel of the Law, giving to drink of the Deathless to a hundred and eighty millions of angels, but above all to the monk Añña-Kondañña. Having set in motion the glorious Wheel of the Law, on the fifth day of the half-month he established all those monks in Arahatship. On the same day also he perceived that the noble youth Yasa possessed the dispositions requisite for Conversion; and when the noble youth Yasa left his house in disgust at what he saw during the night, he saw him and summoned him and made a monk of him, saying, “Come, Yasa!” In that same night also he caused him to attain the Fruit of Conversion, and on the following day caused him to attain Arahatship. Afterwards he made monks of his fifty-four companions, employing the formula, “Come, monks!” And having made monks of them, he caused them to attain Arahatship.

There were thus sixty-one Arahats in the world. Having kept residence during the season of the rains, and having celebrated the terminal festival, he sent out the sixty monks into all the world, saying, “Go forth, monks, preaching and teaching.” He himself proceeded to Uruvela, on the way thither, in Kappasika grove, instructing the Thirty Youths known as the Bhaddavaggiyas. Of these the least attained the Fruit of Conversion and the greatest attained the Fruit of the Third Path. All these youths he received into the Order with the single formula, “Come, monks!” And when he had so done, he sent them out into all the world. Arriving at Uruvela, he performed three thousand five hundred miracles [88] and converted Uruvela-Kassapa, Nadā-Kassapa, and Gayā-Kassapa. These were three brothers, ascetics who wore matted hair, with a following of a thousand disciples. These ascetics he instructed in the Law. And when he had so done, he received them into the Order with the single formula, “Come, monks!” Seating them at Gayāsīsa, he established them in Arahatship by preaching the Fire Sermon; then, attended by a thousand Arahats, he went to Latthivana Garden near the city of Rājagaha, intending to redeem the promise he had given to King Bimbisāra.

“The Teacher has arrived,” went forth the cry. Hearing the report, King Bimbisāra approached with twelve nahutas of Brahman householders, and to him the Buddha preached the Law in a pleasing manner, establishing the king and eleven nahutas of Brahmans in the Fruit of Conversion and one nahuta of Brahmans in the Refuges. On the following day he listened to the praise of his noble qualities by Sakka king of the gods disguised as a Brahman youth, and then entered the city of Rājagaha. Having eaten his meal in the royal residence, he accepted the gift of Veḷuvana monastery and took up his residence there. And there it was that Sāriputta and Moggallāna came to him.