XXIII. The Story of Mahâbodhi.

(Cp. the Pâli Gâtaka, No. 528, Fausb. V, 227-246.)

The compassion of the virtuous for those who once were their benefactors, does not diminish even by injuries done to them. Such is their gratitude, and to this extent have they imbibed the virtue of forbearance. This will be taught as follows.

In the time when the Lord was a Bodhisattva, he was a wandering ascetic, it is said, named Mahâbodhi[162]. When still a householder, he had made a regular and thorough study of such branches of learning as are esteemed in the world, and being curious of fine arts, had also acquainted himself with them. Afterwards, having renounced the world, as he was exerting himself for the benefit of the world, he directed his mind more earnestly to the study of the law-books, and obtained the mastership in that science. Thanks to his possession of a store of merit, the loftiness of his wisdom, his knowledge of the world, and his superior skill in the art of conversing with men, it happened that to whatever country he went, his company was sought for, and his person cherished by the learned as well as by such princes as patronized the learned, by Brâhmans living in the world as well as by other ascetics.

1. Virtues acquire splendour by their appearing on the ground of meritorious actions[163], but it is by the gracefulness of their practice, that they will gain the affection of men and partake of the most distinguished worship even from the side of one's enemies, obliged to do so by regard for their own reputation.

Now that Great-minded One, wandering about with the object of doing good to men, in villages, towns, markets, countries, kingdoms, royal residences, reached the realm of a king who, having heard of the splendour of his many virtues, was rejoiced at the report of his arrival. Having been informed of it long before, he had a dwelling-place built for him in a lovely spot in his own pleasure-gardens. At his arrival, he made him enter his kingdom in the most honourable manner, going to meet him and showing him other tokens of esteem. He attended on him and listened to his teaching, as a pupil observes his spiritual teacher.

2. To a lover of virtues, the arrival of a virtuous guest, coming confidingly to his wealth-abounding home, is a kind of feast[164].

And the Bodhisattva for his part favoured him with daily discourses on religious subjects, delightful to both the ears and the heart, by which he gradually prepared him to walk on the road to salvation.

3. Those who love the Law desire to give religious instruction even to such people as have not shown them their attachment, they will do so out of compassion for their neighbour. How should they not teach him who, like a pure vessel, is eager to accept their instruction and to manifest his love?

But the ministers of that king, though receiving the honour due to their learning, and his counsellors, though also treated with respect, could not bear the constantly increasing honour paid to the magnificence of the Bodhisattva's virtues. Jealousy had tainted their minds.

4. The glory and renown of a man who shows his ability to fascinate mankind by the superiority of his virtues, suffices to kindle the fire of envious feeling in those who are honoured only on account of their professional skill.

They were unable to vanquish him in open contest in disputes on topics of the law-books, and at the same time were sorry to see the king's constant attachment to the Law of Righteousness. Then, in order to rouse his disaffection towards the Bodhisattva, they proceeded almost in this manner. 'Your Majesty,' so would they say, 'should not put his confidence in that wandering monk Bodhi. It is evident that he must be a kind of spy of some rival king, who having learnt Your Majesty's love of virtues and inclination towards Righteousness, avails himself of this clever fellow with his soft, smooth, and deceitful tongue, to entice you into baleful habits and to be informed of your actions. For this devotee of Righteousness, as he pretends to be, instructing Your Majesty exclusively to practise compassionateness and to foster the miserable feeling of shame, induces you to take upon yourself such vows of a religious life as are incompatible with your royal and military duties, prejudicial to the promotion of material interests (artha) and pleasures (kâma), and subject to the dangers attending a bad policy. Indeed, it is out of pure charity that, in the way of exhorting you, he suggests the line of conduct you should follow; nevertheless, he likes to converse with the messengers of other kings, and is far from being a stranger to the contents of the manuals of political wisdom which treat of the duties of kings. Accordingly this matter fills our hearts with apprehension.' Such language spoken with the intention of causing estrangement, being often repeated and by many who feigned to have in view the good of the king, could not fail to have its effect. His attachment and veneration for the Bodhisattva shrunk under the influence of his distrust, and his disposition towards him became changed.

5. Whether a succession of loud-roaring tremendous thunderbolts or of those other thunderbolts, whose name is calumny, pierce the ears of men, does there exist anybody who can remain unshaken by them, trustful and firm in the confidence of his own power?

Now, as the absence of trust lessened the king's affection and veneration for the Great Being, the king was no more, as before, careful to pay him due honour. But the Bodhisattva, owing to his pure-heartedness, did not mind it; 'kings are distracted by many occupations,' so he thought. Still, when he perceived the coolness and lack of attention from the side of the courtiers, he understood that he had incurred the king's displeasure, and taking his triple staff, his waterpot and the other utensils of a wandering ascetic, made preparations for his departure. The king, hearing his resolution, as he was partly moved by a remnant of his old affection, partly would not neglect an act of politeness and civility, went up to him, and in order to show his trouble and pretended desire to retain him, said:

6. 'For what reason are you determined to go away, leaving us all of a sudden? Have you perhaps to complain of some lack of attention on our part, which has roused your fears? If this is the case, you suspect us without reason, it must have been an omission.'

The Bodhisattva replied:

7. 'My departure has a good reason. Not that so trifling a matter as ill-treatment has irritated me, but because you have ceased to be a vessel of righteousness in consequence of your deceitful behaviour, for this reason I set out from hence.'

At this moment the king's favourite dog came running to the Bodhisattva in a hostile manner and barked at him with wide-opened mouth. Pointing at this dog, he said again: 'Why, let this animal bear witness to the case, Your Majesty.

8, 9. 'Formerly this dog was accustomed to fondle me; then he was imitating your example. But now he betrays your feelings by his barks, for he does not know how to feign. Surely, he must have heard from you harsh words on my account, as will happen when former affection has been destroyed; and now, forsooth, he is acting up to them, that he may please you; for such is the behaviour of servants who eat the bread of their lord.'

This reproof filled the king with shame, and made him cast down his eyes. The acuteness of mind of the Bodhisattva touched him and moved his heart. He thought it was not proper to continue his false protestations of love, and bowing reverentially to him, spoke:

10. 'You were indeed the subject of such conversation as you said. Audacious people used that language in my council, and I, absorbed in business, overlooked the matter. You must forgive me, then, and stay here. Pray, do not go.'

The Bodhisattva said: 'Surely, it is not on account of ill-treatment that I want to go, Your Majesty, nor am I driven out by resentment. But considering, it is now no proper time to stay here, Your Majesty, for this reason I go. Do but take this in view.

11. 'If, either by attachment or from apathy, I should not go of my own accord now, as I needs must, after the honourable hospitality shown to me has lost its beauty, having become an ordinary one, verily, would it not hereafter come to the point that I should be seized by the neck and turned out?

12. 'Not with a heart sore with hatred am I about to leave you, but considering this the proper course to follow now. Former benefits are not effaced from the heart of the pious by the stroke of one affront.

13. 'But an ill-disposed man is not fit to be had for a patron, no more than a dried-up pond will serve him who is in want of water. If profit may be gained from the side of such a one, it requires much care to acquire it, and the result will be meagre and not unmixed.

14. 'He, however, who desires ease and dislikes trouble, must attend only on such a patron who has composed his mind and by his placidity resembles a great lake of pure water in autumn. So is the well-known line of conduct approved of men.

15. 'Further, he who is averse to one intent on showing his attachment; likewise he who, attending on somebody who dislikes him, afflicts himself; thirdly, he who is slow in remembering former benefits—such persons bear only the shape of a man and raise doubts as to their real nature.

16. 'Friendship is destroyed both by lack of intercourse and profusion of attentions, also by frequent requests. Therefore, desiring to protect this remnant of our affection from the dangers of my residing here, I now take my leave.'

The king said: 'If Your Reverence has a strong determination to go, thinking your departure to be indispensable, pray, deign to favour us by coming back here again, will you? Friendship ought to be kept safe also from the fault of lack of intercourse, did you not say so?' The Bodhisattva replied: 'Your Majesty, sojourning in the world is something subject to many hindrances, for a great many adversaries in the shape of various calamities attend it. Thus considering, I cannot make the positive promise, that I shall come again. I can only express my wish to see you another time, when there may be some indispensable reason for coming.' Having in this way appeased the king, who dismissed him in the most honourable manner, he set off from his realm, and feeling his mind troubled by intercourse with people living in the world, took up his abode in some forest-place. Staying there, he directed his mind to the exercise of meditation and before long came to the possession of the four ecstatic trances (dhyâna) and the five kinds of transcendent knowledge (abhiâ).

Now, while he was enjoying the exquisite happiness of tranquillity, the remembrance of the king, accompanied by a feeling of compassion, appeared to his mind. And, as he was concerned about the present state of that prince, he directed his thoughts towards him, and saw[165] that his ministers were each enticing him to the tenets of the (false) doctrine which he professed. One among them endeavoured to win him for the doctrine according to which there should be no causality, taking for examples such instances, where it is difficult to demonstrate causality.

17. 'What,' said he, 'is the cause of the shape, the colour, the arrangement, the softness and so on of the stalks, the petals, the filaments and the pericarps of the lotuses? Who diversifies the feathers of the birds in this world? In just the same manner this whole universe is the product of the work of essential and inherent properties, to be sure.'

Another, who held a Supreme Being (Îsvara) for the first cause, expounded him the tenets of his lore.

18. 'It is not probable that this universe should exist without a cause. There is some being who rules it, Eternal and One. It is He who in consequence of the fixation of His mind on His transcendental volition, creates the world and again dissolves it.'

Another, on the contrary, deceived him by this doctrine: This universe is the result of former actions, which are the cause of fortune, good and ill; personal energy has no effect at all to modify it.

19. 'How, indeed, may one being create at the same time the manifold and boundless variety of the different substances and properties? No, this universe is the product of former actions. For even he who is skilled in striving for his happiness comes into mishap.'

Another again enticed him to be solely attached to the enjoyment of sensual pleasures, by means of such reasoning as is heard from the adherents of the doctrine of annihilation.

20. 'Pieces of wood, differing in colour, properties, and shape, cannot be said to exist as the result of actions, and yet they exist, and once perished they do not grow up again. Something similar is to be said of this world. For this reason one must consider pleasures the main object of life.'

Another, pretending to instruct him in his royal duties, recommended to him such practices as are taught in the science of the Kshatriyas, and which, following the winding paths of political wisdom (nîti), are soiled by cruelty and contrary to righteousness (dharma).

21. 'You must avail yourself of men, as of shady trees, considering them fit objects to resort to. Accordingly, endeavour to extend your glory by showing them gratitude, only as long, until your policy ceases to want their use. They are to be appointed to their task in the manner of victims destined for the sacrifice.'

So those ministers desired to lead the king astray, each on the path of his own false doctrines.

The Bodhisattva, then, perceiving that the king, owing to his intercourse with wicked people and his readiness to allow himself to be guided by others whom he trusted, was about to fall into the precipice of false doctrines, was affected with compassion and pondered on some means of rescuing him.

22. The pious, in consequence of their constant practice of virtues, retain in their mind the good done to them, whereas the evil they experienced drops from their mind, like water from a lotus-petal.

Having taken his resolution as to the proper thing to be done in the case, he created in his own hermitage, by dint of magic, a large monkey, whose skin he stripped off, making the rest of his body disappear. Wearing that skin, created by himself, he presented himself at the entrance-gate of the king's palace. After being ushered in by the doorkeepers, he was admitted to the royal presence. He passed successively the guards who were posted outside, and the different courts filled with officers, Brâhmans, military men, messengers, and notable townsmen, and entered the audience-hall, the doors of which were kept outside by doorkeepers with swords and staves; the king was sitting on his throne surrounded by his assembly of learned and wise men, magnificently dressed and orderly arranged. The monarch went to meet him, and showed him every honour and respect due to a guest. After the usual exchange of compliments and kind reception, when the Bodhisattva had taken the seat offered to him, the king, who was curious about that monkey-skin, asked him how he got it, saying: 'Who bestowed this monkey-skin on the Reverend, procuring by that deed a great favour to himself?'

The Bodhisattva answered: 'I got to it by myself, Your Majesty, I did not receive it from anybody else. While sitting or sleeping on the hard ground strewed only with thin straw, the body suffers, and the religious duties cannot be performed at ease. Now, I saw a large monkey in the hermitage and thought so within myself: "Oh! here is the right instrument I want to perform my religion, if I had but the skin of this monkey! sitting or sleeping on it, I shall be able to accomplish the rules of my religion, without caring even for royal couches spread with the most precious clothes." In consequence of this reflection, after subduing the animal I took his skin.' On hearing that account, the king who was polite and well-educated replied nothing to the Bodhisattva, but feeling something like shame, cast down his eyes. His ministers, however, who before that already bore a grudge to the Great Being, seized this opportunity of declaring their opinion, and looking with beaming faces at the king and pointing at the Bodhisattva, exclaimed: 'How entirely the Reverend is devoted to the love of his religion which is his only delight! What a constancy is his! What ability to put into effect the best means for the realisation of his aims! It is a wonder that being alone and emaciated by penance, he was able to subdue so large a monkey, who had just entered his hermitage! At all events, may his penance be successful[166]!' In reply to them, the Bodhisattva, without losing his placidity of mind, said: 'Your honours, blaming me, should not disregard the fair tenets of your doctrines. This is not the way by which to make the glory of learning shine. Your honours must consider this.

23. 'He who despises his adversaries with such words as are destructive to his own doctrine, such a one, so to speak, wishes the dishonour of his enemy at the cost of his own life.'

After thus reproaching those ministers collectively, the Great Being, wishing to revile them once more individually, addressed that minister who denied causality in these terms:

24. 'You profess that this universe is the product of essential and inherent properties. Now, if this be true, why do you blame me? What fault is mine, if this ape died in consequence of his nature? Therefore, I have rightly killed him.

25. 'If, however, I committed a sin by killing him, it is evident that his death is produced by an (external) cause. This being so, you must either renounce your doctrine of non-causality or use here such reasoning as does not befit you.

26. 'Further, if the arrangement, colour &c. of the stalks, petals &c. of lotuses were not the effect of some cause, would they not be found always and everywhere? But this is not so, they are produced from seeds being in water &c.; where this condition is found, they appear, not where it is not found.

'This, too, I would propound to Your Worship, to consider it well.

27. 'He who denies the agency of cause by means of reasoning with arguments, does not such a one desert his own tenets[167]? On the other hand, if he is averse to the use of argument, say, what will he do with his sole tenet (not supported by argument)?

28. 'And he who, not perceiving the cause in some particular case, proclaims for this very reason, that there does not exist causality at all, will not such a one, when he learns the manifest power of causality in that case, grow angry at it and oppose it with invectives?

29. 'And if somewhere the cause is latent, why do you say with assurance, it does not exist? Though it is, it is not perceived for some other cause, as for instance the white colour of the sun's disc is not seen at sunset.

'Moreover, sir,

30. 'For the sake of happiness you pursue the objects you desire, and will not follow such things as are opposed to it. And it is for the same purpose that you attend on the king. And notwithstanding this, you dare deny causality!

31. 'And, if nevertheless you should persist in your doctrine of non-causality, then it follows that the death of the monkey is not to be ascribed to any cause. Why do you blame me?'

So with clear arguments the High-minded One confounded that advocate of the doctrine of non-causality. Then addressing himself to the believer in a Supreme Being, he said: 'You, too, never ought to blame me, noble sir. According to your doctrine, the Lord is the cause of everything. Look here.

32, 33. 'If the Lord does everything, He alone is the killer of that ape, is He not? How can you bear such unfriendliness in your heart as to throw blame on me on account of the fault of another? If, however, you do not ascribe the murder of that valiant monkey to Him because of His compassionateness, how is it that you loudly proclaim, the Lord is the cause of this Universe?

'Moreover, friend, believing, as you do, that everything is done by the Lord[168],

34. 'What hope have you of propitiating the Lord by praise, supplication, and the like? For the Self-born Being works those actions of yours himself.

35. 'If, however, you say, the sacrifice is performed by yourself, still you cannot disavow that He is the author of it. He who is self-acting out of the fulness of His power, is the author of a deed, no other.

36, 37. 'Again, if the Lord is the performer of all sins, however many there are committed, what virtue of His have you in view that you should foster devotion to Him? On the other hand, if it is not He who commits them, since He abhors wickedness, it is not right to say that everything is created by the Lord.

38, 39. 'Further, the sovereignty of the Lord must rest either on the lawful order of things (Dharma) or on something else. If on the former, then the Lord cannot have existed before the Dharma. If effected by some external cause, it should rather be called "bondage;" for if a state of dependency should not bear that name, what state may not be called "sovereignty?"

'Nevertheless, if in spite of this reasoning, attached to the doctrine of Devotion[169] and without having well reflected on its probability or improbability,

40. 'You persist in holding the Supreme Being and Lord for the sole cause of the whole universe, does it, then, become you to impute to me the murder of that chief of monkeys, which has been decided by the Supreme Being?'

So reasoning with a well-connected series of conclusive arguments, the High-minded One struck dumb, so to speak, the minister who was an adherent of the Lord (Îsvara)-supreme cause. And turning to that minister who was a partisan of the doctrine of former actions, he addressed him in a very skilful manner, saying: 'No more does it become you, too, to censure me. According to your opinion, everything is the consequence of former actions. For this reason, I tell you,

41. 'If everything ought to be imputed exclusively to the power of former actions, then this monkey has been rightly killed by me. He has been burnt by the wild fire of his former actions. What fault of mine is to be found here that you should blame me?

42. 'On the other hand, suppose I did a bad action in killing the ape, I must be the cause of his death, not his former actions. Further, if you state, that karma (always) produces (fresh) karma, nobody will reach final emancipation[170] in your system.

43. 'Verily, if something like this should be seen: happiness enjoyed by him who lives in circumstances productive of suffering, or sufferings visiting such a one whose circumstances are instruments of happiness, then we should have the right to infer, it is beyond question, that good and evil fortune depend exclusively on former actions.

44. 'But, in fact, this rule as to the appearance of happiness and sufferings is nowhere seen. Consequently, former actions are not the sole and entire cause of them. Further, it is possible that there ceases to be new karma. And this lacking, whence should you get the "old karma" (indispensable for the maintenance of the Universe)?

45. 'If, nevertheless, you persist in your doctrine of the former actions, for what reason do you judge me to have caused the death of that ape?'

In this manner the High-minded One, expounding irrefutable arguments, put him to silence so that it seemed as if he had made him take the vow of silence. Next he said smilingly to that minister who was an adherent of the doctrine of annihilation: 'How extremely eager your honour is to blame me, if at least you really are a partisan of the doctrine of annihilation.

46. 'If there does not exist anything like a future existence after death, why should we avoid evil actions, and what have we to do with the folly of holding good actions in esteem? He alone would be wise who behaves according to impulse, as he likes best. If this doctrine be true, it is right indeed, that I killed that ape.

47, 48. 'If, however, it is fear of public opinion which causes such a one to eschew bad actions by following the path of virtue, he will, nevertheless, not escape the criticism of public opinion, because of the contradiction between his words and his deeds: nor will he obtain the happiness presenting itself on the road of his destiny, owing to the same awe of public opinion. Is, then, such a one, allowing himself to be misled by a fruitless and delusive doctrine, not the meanest of simpletons?

'As to your statement, when you said:

49. '"Pieces of wood, differing in colour, properties and shape, cannot be said to exist as the result of actions, and yet they exist, and once perished they do not grow up again. Something similar is to be said of this world," pray, tell me, what reason have you for believing so, after all?

50. 'If, notwithstanding this, you persist in your attachment to the doctrine of annihilation, what reason is it that you should censure the murderer of a monkey or a man?'

So the Great Being silenced that adherent of annihilation by means of a refutation of conspicuous elegance. Then he addressed that minister who was so skilled in the science of princes. 'For what reason,' he said, 'do you also censure me, if you really consider the line of conduct as taught in the love of political science to be the right one?

51. 'According to that doctrine, in truth, deeds good or evil are to be performed for the sake of material profit; having once risen, a man shall bestow his wealth, indeed, for his benefit on actions of righteousness (dharma[171]).

'On this account I tell you.

52. 'If for the sake of personal interest honest proceedings may be neglected even with respect to affectionate relations[172], what reason have you to censure me about that ape whom I killed for the sake of his skin, putting into effect the policy taught also in your books?

53[173]. 'On the other hand, if such a deed is to be blamed for its cruelty, and is certain to have evil consequences, by what means do you resort to a lore which does not acknowledge this?

54. 'Now, if such is the manifestation of what is called "policy" in your system, say, of what kind may be the error, called "want of policy"? Oh! the audacious who, despising mankind, propound injustice by the way of authoritative law-books!

55. 'Nevertheless, if you maintain that false doctrine—is it not prescribed in the books of your sect in plain terms?—well, it is not I who should be blamed on account of the death of that ape, since I followed the path of that policy which is taught in your books.'

In this manner, then, the High-minded One vanquished by a strong assault those ministers in spite of their influence on the bystanders, in spite also of their habitual boldness. And when he understood he had won over the assembly with the king, wishing to expel from their hearts the grief he had caused them by killing the monkey, he addressed the king, saying: 'In fact, Your Majesty, I never killed any living creature[174]. I did but put into effect my power of creation. This skin I stripped off a monkey whom I had created, with the object of using it as the topic of this very conversation. Do not therefore judge me falsely.' So speaking, he dissolved the illusion (of the ape-skin) he had produced by magic. Then, seeing that the king and his assembly were now in apt state of mind to be converted, he said:

56. 'What person, who perceives that all things produced emanate from causes; who feels himself acting by his free will; who believes in another world after this; who maintains right tenets; who cherishes compassionateness—may kill any living being?

'Do but consider this, great prince.

57. 'How should the believer in the true and rational doctrine commit a deed which, to be sure, neither the denier of causality, nor the believer in absolute dependence, nor the materialist, nor the follower of the lore of political wisdom would perform for the sake of a little glory?

58. 'A man's creed, O best of men, be it the true or a false one, is the motive which induces him to actions corresponding with it. For people show the tenets of their belief by their words and actions, since their purposes comply with the line of conduct, prescribed by their creed.

59. 'And for this reason the excellent lore is to be cherished, but a bad lore must be abandoned, for it is a source of calamity. One must take this course in this way: keeping with the virtuous, but keeping afar from wicked people.

60. 'Indeed, there are such monks—goblins they should rather be called—who wander about in the dress of the self-restrained, but have not subdued their senses. It is they who ruin simple people by their false views, not unlike such serpents as cause harm by the venom of their looks.

61. 'The discordant voices of the adherents of the doctrine of non-causality and the rest, disclose their special natures, in the same manner as jackals are betrayed by their howling. For this reason a wise man ought not to cherish such persons but should (rather) care for their good, if he have the power to do so.

62. 'But no one, however illustrious his glory may be in the world, should make friends with an unfit person, not even for interest's sake. Even the moon suffers loss of loveliness, when soiled by its conjunction with a gloomy winter-day.

63. 'Therefore, avoiding the company of those who are avoiders of virtues and frequenting those who know how to foster virtues, make your glory shine by rousing in your subjects the love of virtue and dissolving their attachment to vice.

64. 'Observing the Law of Righteousness, you might cause your subjects, for the greater part indeed, to be intent on good behaviour and to keep to the path which leads to Heaven. Now you have to protect your people and you are willing to exert yourself with this object. Well, then, betake yourself to the Dharma; its rules of discipline (vinaya) make its road a lovely one.

65. 'Purify your moral conduct (sila), earn the glory of a charitable giver, direct your mind to friendliness towards strangers, just as if they were your relations, and may you rule your land for a long time with righteousness and an uninterrupted observance of your duties! In this way you will gain happiness, glory, and Heaven.

66. 'If he fail to protect the peasants, his tax-payers, both the husbandmen and the cattle-breeders, who are like trees abounding in flowers and fruits, a king gets into difficulties concerning such wealth as consists in fruits of the earth.

67. 'If he fail to protect those who live by buying and selling different merchandises, traders, and townsmen, who gratify him by paying the customs, he raises difficulties for himself with respect to his treasury.

68. 'Likewise a prince who, having no reason to complain of his army, fails to honour it, and disregards his military men who have shown their valour on the battle-field and are renowned for their skill in the science of arms, surely such a king will be deserted by victory in battle.

69. 'In the very same way a king who stains his behaviour by disregard of the religious men, excellent by morals or learning or supernatural power (yoga) and illustrious by such virtues as attend on high-mindedness, will be destitute of the rejoicings of Heaven.

70. 'As one who plucks an unripe fruit kills the seed without finding juice, so a king raising unlawful tributes, ruins his country without obtaining profit from them.

71. 'On the other hand, as a tree abounding in excellent properties, grants the enjoyment of its fruits at the time of their ripeness, in the very same manner a country, well protected by its ruler, provides him with the triad of religious and material prosperity and enjoyment.

72. 'Keep attached to yourself faithful ministers, clever and wise in promoting your interests, likewise honest friends, and your family, attaching their hearts by words agreeable to them, and by gifts offered to them in a flattering manner.

73. 'For this reason, then, let Righteousness be always the guide of your actions, having your mind bent on securing the salvation of your subjects. May you, while saving your people by administering justice free from partiality and hatred, secure the worlds for yourself[175]!'

Thus the High-minded One led that king away from the wrong road of false doctrines and put him and his attendants on the Excellent Path. After which he directly mounted to the sky, worshipped by the assembly with heads reverentially bowed and hands folded, and returned to his residence in the forest.


In this manner, then, the compassion of the virtuous for those who were once their benefactors does not diminish even by injuries done to them; such is their gratitude, and to this extent have they imbibed the virtue of forbearance. [Considering thus, one must not forget a former benefit because of such a trifle as an injury. Also, when discoursing on the Buddha, it may be said: 'In this manner the Lord, even before he reached Supreme Wisdom, defeated the doctrines of other teachers and taught the Truth.' Further, when censuring erroneous doctrines or inversely when praising the true faith, this story is to be adduced, saying: 'In this manner a false doctrine cannot bear strong arguments, because it has no support, and is to be avoided.']

XXIV. The Story of the Great Ape.

(Cp. the Pâli Gâtaka, No. 516, Fausb. V, 68-74.)

The virtuous grieve not so much for their own pain as for the loss of happiness incurred by their injurers. This will be taught now.

There is a blessed region on one side of the Himavat. Its soil, pervaded with different metallic ores, might be called its body perfumed with lovely and various ointments; and its magnificent woods and forests constituted its upper garment, as it were, consisting in a mantle of dark silk. The slopes and declivities of that landscape were adorned by their picturesque scenery, which harmonized the inequality of colours and shapes and combinations, so that they seemed to have been arranged purposely and with care. In this recreation-ground of the Vidyâdharas, moistened by the waters of many mountain-streams passing through it, abounding in deep holes, chasms, and precipices, resounding with the dull and shrill noise of humming bees and caressed by lovely winds fanning its various trees with their beautiful flowers, fruits, and stems, the Bodhisattva was once, it is said, an ape of great size who lived alone. But even in that state he had not lost his consciousness of the Dharma, he was grateful, noble-natured, and endowed with great patience; and Compassion, as if retained by attachment, would never leave him.

1. The earth with its forests, its great mountains and its oceans perished many hundred times at the end of the yuga, either by water or fire or wind, but the great compassion of the Bodhisattva never perishes.

Subsisting, then, like an ascetic, exclusively on the simple fare of leaves and fruits of the forest-trees, and showing pity in various circumstances and ways to such creatures as he met within the sphere of his power, the High-minded One lived in the said forest-region.

Now, one time a certain man wandering about in all directions in search of a stray cow, lost his way, and being utterly unable to find out the regions of the sky, roamed at random, and reached that place. There, being exhausted by hunger, thirst, heat, and toil, and suffering from the fire of sorrow which blazed within his heart, he sat down at the foot of a tree, as if pressed down by the exceeding weight of his sadness. Looking around, he saw a number of very tawny tinduka-fruits[176], which being ripe had fallen off. After enjoying them, as the hunger which tortured him much made them seem very sweet to him, he felt a very strong desire to find out their origin; and looking sharply around on all sides, he discovered the tree from whence they came. This tree had its roots on the border of the sloping bank of a waterfall, and hung down its branches, loaded with very ripe fruits which gave them a tawny hue at their ends. Craving for those fruits, the man mounted to that slope, and climbing up the tinduka-tree, reached a branch with fruit overhanging the precipice. And his eagerness to get the fruit induced him to go along it to its very end.

2. Then on a sudden, that branch, hanging down, unable to bear its too heavy burden, broke off with a noise and fell down, as if hewn with a hatchet.

And with that branch he fell headlong in a large precipice surrounded on all sides by steep rock-walls, like a pit; but as he was protected by the leaves and plunged into deep water, he came off without breaking any of his bones. After getting out of the water, he went about on all sides, looking out for some way by which he might escape, but saw none. As he found no outlet and realised that he must starve there very soon, he despaired of his life, and tortured by the heart-piercing dart of heavy sorrow burst into tears, that moistened his sad face. Overwhelmed by discouragement and painful thoughts, he lamented somewhat in this manner.

3. 'Down I fell into this precipice in the midst of this forest remote from human approach. Who, however carefully seeking, may discover me, except Death?

4. 'Who will rescue me out of this place, into which I was precipitated, like a wild beast caught in a pit-fall? No relations, no friends have I near, only swarms of mosquitoes drinking my blood.

5. 'Alas, the night within this pit conceals from me the aspect of the universe. I shall no more see the manifold loveliness of gardens, groves, arbours, and streams. No more the sky resplendent with its jewel ornament of wide-scattered stars. Thick darkness, like a night in the dark half of the month, surrounds me.'

Thus lamenting, that man passed there some days, feeding on the water and the tinduka-fruits which had come down together with himself.

Now, that great ape wandering through that part of the forest with the purpose of taking his food, came to that place, beckoned as it were by the wind-agitated branches of that tinduka-tree. Climbing on it and looking over the waterfall, he perceived that man lying there and in want of relief, and saw also his eyes and cheeks sunken, and his limbs emaciated, pale, and suffering from hunger. The wretched situation of the man roused the compassion of the great monkey, who setting aside the care for his meal, fixed his eyes intently on the man and in a human voice uttered this:

6. 'Thou art in this precipice inaccessible to men. Well, tell me then, please, who thou art and by what cause thou hast come there.'

Then the man, casting up his eyes to the great ape, bowing his head and folding his hands as a supplicant, spoke:

7, 8. 'I am a man, illustrious being. Having lost my way and roaming in the forest, I came into this distress, while seeking to get fruits from this tree. Befallen by this heavy calamity, while away from my friends and kindred, I beseech thee, protector of troops of monkeys, be also my protector.'

These words succeeded in stirring the boundless pity of the Great Being.

9. A person in distress, without friends or family to help him, imploring help with anxious looks and folded hands, would rouse compassion in the heart even of his enemies; to the compassionate he is a great attraction.

Then the Bodhisattva, pitying him, comforted him with kind words, such as he could hardly expect in that time.

10. 'Be not afflicted, thinking thou hast lost thy strength by the fall into this precipice or that thou hast no relations to help thee. What those would do for thee, I will do it all. Do not fear.'

And after these comforting words the Great Being provided the man with tindukas and other fruits. Then with the object of rescuing him, he went away to some other place, and exercised himself in climbing having on his back a stone of a man's weight. Having learnt the measure of his strength and convinced himself that he was able to bring up the man out of the waterfall, he descended to the bottom of it, and moved by compassion, said these words to the man:

11. 'Come, climb upon my back and cling fast to me, while I shall bring out both thee and the usefulness of my body.

12. 'For the pious pronounce this to be the usefulness of the body, otherwise a worthless thing, that it may be employed by the wise as an instrument for benefiting our neighbour.'

The other agreed, and after reverentially bowing to the ape, mounted on his back.

13. So with that man on his back, stooping under the pain of the exceeding heaviness of his burden, yet, owing to the intensity of his goodness, with unshaken firmness of mind, he succeeded in rescuing him, though with great difficulty.

14. And having delivered him, he enjoyed the highest gladness, but was so exhausted, that he walked with an unstable and tottering step, and chose some cloud-black slab of stone to lie upon, that he might take his rest.

Pure-hearted as he was and being his benefactor, the Bodhisattva did not suspect danger from the part of that man, and trustingly said to him:

15, 16. 'This part of the forest being easily accessible, is exposed to the free course of ferocious animals. Therefore, that nobody may kill me and his own future happiness by a sudden attack, while I am taking my rest from fatigue, thou must carefully look out in all directions and keep guard over me and thyself. My body is utterly tired, and I want to sleep a little while.'

The man promised to do so. Assuming the frank language of honesty, he said: 'Sleep, sir, as long as you like, and may your awaking be glad! I stay here, keeping guard over you.' But when the Great Being, in consequence of his fatigue, had fallen asleep, he conceived wicked thoughts within his mind.

17. 'Roots to be obtained with hard effort or forest-fruits offered by chance are my livelihood here. How can my emaciated body sustain life by them? how much less, recover its strength?

18. 'And how shall I succeed in traversing this wilderness hard to pass, if I am infirm? Yet, in the body of this ape I should have food amply sufficient to get out of this troublesome wilderness.

19. 'Although he has done good to me, I may feed on him, I may, for he has been created such a being. I may, for here the rules given for times of distress[177] are applicable, to be sure. For this reason I have to get my provisions from his body.

20. 'But I am only able to kill him while he is sleeping the profound and quiet sleep of trustfulness. For if he were to be attacked in open fight, even a lion would not be assured of victory.

'Therefore, there is no time to lose now.' Having thus made up his mind, that scoundrel, troubled in his thoughts by sinful lust which had destroyed within him his gratitude, his consciousness of the moral precepts, and even his tender innate feeling of compassion, not minding his great weakness of body, and listening only to his extreme desire to perform that vile action, took a stone, and made it fall straight down on the head of the great ape.

21, 22. But, being sent by a hand trembling with weakness and hastily, because of his great cupidity, that stone, flung with the desire of sending the monkey to the complete sleep (of death), destroyed his sleep. It did not strike him with its whole weight, so that it did not dash his head to pieces; it only bruised it with one of its edges, and fell down on the earth with a thundering noise.

23, 24. The Bodhisattva, whose head had been injured by the stone, jumped up hastily; and looking around him that he might discover his injurer, saw nobody else but that very man who stood before him in the attitude of shame, confounded, timid, perplexed, and dejected, betraying his confusion by the ashy-pale colour of his face, which had lost its brightness; sudden fright had dried up his throat, drops of sweat covered his body, and he did not venture to lift up his eyes.

As soon as the great ape realised that the man himself was the evildoer, without minding the pain of his wound any longer, he felt himself utterly moved. He did not become angry, nor was he subdued by the sinful feeling of wrath. He was rather affected with compassion for him who, disregarding his own happiness, had committed that exceedingly vile deed. Looking at him with eyes wet with tears, he lamented over the man, saying:

25, 26. 'Friend, how hast thou, a man, been capable of doing an action like this? How couldst thou conceive it? how undertake it? Thou, who wast bound to oppose with heroic valour any foe whosoever eager to hurt me would have assailed me!

27. 'If I felt something like pride, thinking I performed a deed hard to be done, thou hast cast away from me that idea of haughtiness, having done something still more difficult to do.

28. 'After being brought back from the other world, from the mouth of Death, as it were, thou, scarcely saved from one precipice, hast fallen into another, in truth!

29. 'Fie upon ignorance, that vile and most cruel thing! for it is ignorance that throws the miserable creatures into distress, (deceiving them) with (false) hope of prosperity.

30, 31. 'Thou hast ruined thyself, kindled the fire of sorrow in me, obscured the splendour of thy reputation, obstructed thy former love of virtues, and destroyed thy trustworthiness, having become a mark for (the arrows of) reproach. What great profit, then, didst thou expect by acting in that manner?

32. 'The pain of this wound does not grieve me so much as this thought which makes my mind suffer, that it is on account of me that thou hast plunged into evil, but that I have not the power of wiping off that sin.

33, 34. 'Well then, go with me, keeping by my side, but mind to be always in my sight, for thou art much to be distrusted. I will conduct thee out of this forest, the abode of manifold dangers, again into the path which leads to the dwellings of men, lest roaming alone in this forest, emaciated and ignorant of the way, thou shouldst be assailed by somebody who, hurting thee, would make fruitless my labour spent in thy behalf.'

So commiserating that man, the High-minded One conducted him to the border of the inhabited region, and having put him on his way, said again:

35. 'Thou hast reached the habitations of men, friend; now thou mayst leave this forest-region with its fearful thickets and wildernesses. I bid thee a happy journey and wish that thou mayst endeavour to avoid evil actions. For the harvest of their evil results is an extremely painful time.'

So the great ape pitying the man, instructed him as if he were his disciple; after which he went back to his abode in the forest. But the man who had attempted that exceedingly vile and sinful deed, tortured by the blazing fire of remorse, was on a sudden struck with a dreadful attack of leprosy. His figure became changed, his skin was spotted with vesicles which, becoming ulcers and bursting, wetted his body with their matter, and made it putrid in a high degree. To whatever country he came, he was an object of horror to men; so hideous was his distorted form; neither by his appearance did he resemble a human being nor by his changed voice, indicative of his pain. And people, thinking him to be the embodied Devil, drove him away, threatening him with uplifted clods and clubs and harsh words of menace. One time, roaming about in some forest, he was seen by a certain king who was hunting there. On perceiving his most horrible appearance—for he looked like a Preta[178], the dirty remains of his garments having at last dropped off, so that he had hardly enough to cover his shame—that king, affected with curiosity mingled with fear, asked him thus:

36, 37. 'Thy body is disfigured by leprosy, thy skin spotted with ulcers; thou art pale, emaciated, miserable; thy hair is dirty with dust. Who art thou? Art thou a Preta, or a goblin, or the embodied Devil, or a Pûtana[179]? Or if one out of the number of sicknesses, which art thou who displayest the assemblage of many diseases?'

Upon which the other, bowing to the prince, answered in a faltering tone: 'I am a man, great king, not a spirit.' And being asked again by the king, how he had come into that state, he confessed to him his wicked deed, and added these words:

38. 'This suffering here is only the blossom of the tree sown by that treacherous deed against my friend. O, surely, its fruit will be still more miserable than this.

39. 'Therefore, you ought to consider a treacherous deed against a friend as your foe. With kindheartedness you must look upon friends, who are kind-hearted towards you.

40. 'Those who adopt a hostile behaviour against their friends, come into such a wretched state already in this world. From hence you may infer what will be in the other world the fate of those who, sullied in their mind by covetousness and other vices, attempted the life of their friends.

41. 'He, on the other hand, whose mind is pervaded with kindness and affection for his friends, obtains a good reputation, is trusted by his friends and enjoys their benefits. He will possess gladness of mind and the virtue of humility, his enemies will consider him a man hard to offend, and finally he will gain residence in Heaven.

42. 'Thus knowing the power and the consequences of good and evil behaviour with respect to friends, O king, hold fast to the road followed by the virtuous. He who goes along on this will attain happiness.'


In this manner, then, the virtuous grieve not so much for their own pain as for the loss of happiness incurred by their injurers. [So is to be said, when discoursing on the great-mindedness of the Tathâgata, and when treating of listening with attention to the preaching of the Law; likewise when dealing with the subjects of forbearance and faithfulness towards friends; also when demonstrating the sinfulness of evil deeds.]

XXV. The Story of the Sarabha.

(Cp. the Pâli Gâtaka, No. 483, Fausb. IV, 267-275.)

Even to him who attempts their life the intensely compassionate show pity in his distress; they will not disregard such a one. This will be taught in the following.

One time, it is said, the Bodhisattva was a sarabha[180], living in a remote part of a certain forest. That region, lying beyond the path and the noise of men, was a dwelling-place of manifold tribes of forest-animals. Its many roots, trees, and shrubs were immersed in the thick and high grass which covered its soil, untrodden by travellers and showing nowhere any trace of vehicles and carriages, the tracks of whose feet or wheels might have beaten something like a road or border-line; yet, it was intersected with channels and full of ant-hills and holes. That sarabha had a solid body, endowed with strength, vigour, and swiftness; he was distinguished by the beautiful colour of his skin. As he was addicted to practising compassion, he cherished friendly feelings towards all animals. Possessing the virtue of contentment, he subsisted only on grasses, leaves and water, and was pleased with his residence in the forest. So he adorned that part of the forest, longing, like a Yogin, for complete detachment.

1. Bearing the shape of a forest-animal, but possessing the intellectual faculties of a man, he lived in that solitary wilderness, showing, like an ascetic, mercy to all living beings, and contenting himself, like a Yogin, with blades of grass.

Now once upon a time it happened that the king who was the ruler of that country came near that place. Mounted on his excellent horse, holding his bent bow and arrow in his hand, and being eager to try his skill of arms on the game, he was pursuing the deer with speed, indulging in the excitement (of the chase). So he was carried away by his horse, an animal of extraordinary swiftness, and separated by no small distance from his retinue, a body of elephants, horse, chariots, and footmen. As soon as he saw the Great Being from afar, he was resolved on killing him, and keeping ready his bow strung with a sharp arrow, spurred his horse to chase the High-minded One. But the Bodhisattva had no sooner perceived the king on horseback assailing him, than he took to flight with the utmost swiftness; not because he would have been powerless to stand and fight his aggressor, but because he had desisted from acts of violence and anger. While being pursued by the king, meeting with a large hole on his way, he quickly jumped over it, as if it were a small puddle, and continued his flight. When the excellent horse, running after the sarabha in the same direction as swiftly as ever he could, arrived at that hole, he hesitated to risk the leap, and of a sudden stood still.

2. Then the king, as he was, his bow in his hands, tumbled down from horseback and fell headlong into the large hole, as a warrior of the Daityas sinks into the Ocean.

3. Keeping his eyes fixed on the sarabha, he had not noticed that chasm. So he fell by the fault of his want of circumspection, as he lost his balance by the sudden stopping of his horse from his great swiftness.

Now, the sound of the trampling of hoofs ceasing, the Bodhisattva began to think: 'has that king, perhaps, really turned back?' Then, turning his head and looking behind, he saw the horse without his rider standing on the brink of that chasm. On perceiving this, his thoughts turned to this reasoning: 'No doubt, the king must have fallen into this chasm. No tree is here spreading its thick foliage, the sheltering shade of which might invite to sit down and rest, nor is here any lake to be found fit for bathing in its water as blue and as pure as a petal of a blue lotus. Nor, since he entered this wild forest-region haunted by ferocious animals, is he likely to have dismounted and left his excellent horse in some place, that he might either take his rest or continue hunting alone. No more is there here any jungle in which he might be hidden. Surely, that king must have fallen into this hole.' After he had convinced himself of this, the High-minded One felt the utmost commiseration for him who sought his life.

4, 5. 'But lately this monarch possessed the enjoyments of royalty, being worshipped like the Lord of the Devas by crowds of people revering him with clasped hands. His army attended him, a mixed host of chariots, horsemen, footmen, and elephants, adorned with gay banners, glittering in their armour and weapons, and marching to the brisk tones of music. His head was sheltered by the lovely umbrella, and the chowries fanning him made a beautiful effect with the shine of their (jewelled) handles.

6. 'And now at this moment he is lying below in this large chasm. By the shock of his fall he must have broken his bones, he has swooned or pines with sorrow. Alas! To what a distress has he come!

7. 'Common people, whose mind has grown callous with suffering, so to speak, are not so much afflicted by their sorrows, as men of high rank, when calamities visiting them plunge them into grief, something new to such as are accustomed to great delicacy.

'He will never be able to escape from thence by himself. If there is still some remnant of life in him, then it is not right to abandon him to his fate.' So considering, the High-minded One, impelled by his compassion, went to the brink of the precipice and perceived him struggling there. His armour, covered with dust, had lost its splendour, his diadem and his garments were utterly disarranged, and the pain caused by the blows he had got in falling down afflicted his mind, and brought him to despondency.

8. Having seen the king in that wretched situation, he forgot that it was his enemy, and affected with pity felt an equal pain to his; tears welled up in his eyes.

9. And he addressed him with modest and kind language, manifesting his innate pious disposition and comforting him by the proper and respectful words he used in a distinct and lovely-sounding voice.

10. 'Thou hast received no hurt, Your Majesty, I hope, coming into this hell-resembling chasm? Thou hast broken no limb, I hope? Do thy pains grow less already?

11. 'I am no goblin, O most distinguished of men, I am a forest-animal living within thy realm, reared upon thy grass and water. So thou mayst put confidence in me.

12. 'Do not despond, then, because of thy fall into the precipice. I have the power to rescue thee from thence. If thou thinkest me trustworthy, then quickly command me and I come.'

This marvellous speech of the animal roused the admiration of the king. Shame arose within his mind and he began, in truth, to reflect in this manner:

13. 'How is it possible that he shows pity towards me, his enemy, of whose prowess he perceived himself to be the goal? And how could I act so unbecomingly to this innocent one?

14. 'Oh! How he confounds me by the sharp reproach of his softness! It is I who am the animal, the brute, he is some being bearing only the shape of a sarabha.

'He deserves, therefore, to be honoured by my acceptance of his friendly offer.' Having thus made up his mind, he spoke:

15-17. 'My body being covered by my armour has not been too heavily injured, and the pain I feel from being crushed in this chasm is at least bearable. Yet, that grievance caused by my fall does not torment me so much as my offence against a being so pure-hearted and holy as thou. Do not mind it, I pray thee, that relying on thy outward shape I took thee for a forest-animal, not being aware of thy real nature.'

Then the sarabha, inferring from these friendly words of the king, that he agreed to his proposal, exercised himself with the object of rescuing him, bearing on his back a stone of a man's weight. Having learnt the extent of his strength, determined upon rescuing the king, he went down into the hole and drawing near to him, spoke in a respectful tone:

18. 'Pray, put up for a while with the necessity of touching this body of mine, that, with the object of obtaining my own happiness, I may make thy face resplendent with contentment and joy.

'Your Majesty, deign therefore to mount upon my back and cling fast to me.' And he, after declaring his approval, mounted his back, as if it were a horse's.

19. Then, with the king on his back, he climbed aloft with surpassing vigour and swiftness, and holding high the forepart of his body, resembled some (stone-)elephant rising in the air, as is represented on arches.

20. After carrying the king out of that inaccessible place and making him rejoin his horse, he was much rejoiced and told him the way to his capital, and himself prepared to retire to his forest.

But the king, moved with gratitude for his kind service, so modestly rendered, embraced the sarabha affectionately, saying:

21. 'This life of mine is at thy disposal, O sarabha. It is, therefore, unnecessary to add that thou must consider as thy property all that is within my power. Give me, then, the pleasure of visiting my capital, and if thou likest it, take up thy residence there.

22. 'Is it not unbecoming to me that I should set out for home alone, leaving thee in this dreadful forest haunted by hunters, where thou art exposed to suffering because of cold, heat, rain, and other calamities?

'Well then, let us go together.'

Then the Bodhisattva eulogized him in modest, soft and respectful terms, answering thus:

23. 'In lovers of virtues, like thee, O most excellent of men, a behaviour like thine is the proper one. For virtues, constantly practised by pious persons, turn out to be an essential part of their very nature.

24. 'But since thou thinkest, that I who am accustomed to the forest might be favoured by taking up my residence at thy home, pray, no more of this. Of one kind is the pleasure of men, of another that of the forest-animals conformable to the habits of their kind.

25. 'If, however, thou wantest to do something pleasant to me, then desist from hunting, O hero, for ever! The poor beasts of the forest, being brute and dull of intellect, are worth pitying for this very reason.

26. 'With respect to the pursuit of happiness and the removal of mischief, the animals, thou shouldst know, are subject to the same feelings as men. Keeping this in mind, deem it improper to do to others what would be a cause of displeasure, if done to thyself.

27. 'Understanding that evil deeds entail loss of reputation, censure by the virtuous, and moreover suffering, thou must extirpate the evil within thee, considering it thy adversary. It never becomes thee to overlook it, no more than illness.

28. 'It is by pursuing meritorious actions that thou obtainedst the royal dignity, a thing highly esteemed by men and the abode of bliss. That very store of merit thou must enlarge, thou shouldst not enfeeble the ranks of the benefactors.

29. 'Gather meritorious actions, the instruments of glory and happiness, by munificent gifts, (taking care) to enhance their charm by (distributing them at the right) time and in a respectful manner; by a moral conduct, the right laws of which thou mayst learn by intercourse with virtuous persons[181]; and by succeeding in making thy dispositions towards all creatures as well-wishing as to thyself.'

In this manner the High-minded One favoured the king, firmly establishing him in the matters relating to the future life. And the king accepted his words. After which he entered his dwelling-place in the forest, followed with respectful looks by the king.


In this manner the intensely compassionate show pity even to him who attempts their life, when he is in distress; they will not disregard such a one. [This story is to be told also when treating of commiseration, when discoursing on the high-mindedness of the Tathâgata and on the subject of listening with attention to the preaching of the Law. Likewise it is to be propounded when demonstrating that enmities are appeased by means of friendliness, also when treating of the virtue of forbearance. 'In this way it is seen that the High-minded, even when in the state of beasts, behave mercifully towards those who attempt their life. How, indeed, should it become a human being or one who has taken the vow of a homeless life to be wanting in mercy towards the animals? For this reason a pious man (ârya) must show mercy to living beings.']