strength, released the quail. “Go, quail! Even there you will not
escape from me.” Then, monks, the quail went to the field of clods,
turned up by the plow, and mounting a big clod, stood and called the
hawk: “Come now, hawk, I dare you! Come now, hawk, I dare you!”
Then, monks, the hawk, exerting his strength, asserting his strength,
flapped both his wings and attacked the quail with violence. When,
monks, the quail knew: “This hawk is coming for me with a vengeance!”
he entered a crack in that very clod. And, monks, the hawk struck his
breast against that very clod.
“For, monks, so it goes with whoever walks in forbidden ground, in a
foreign region. Therefore, monks, walk not in forbidden ground, in a
foreign region. If, monks, you walk in forbidden ground, in a foreign
region, the Evil One will obtain entrance, the Evil One will obtain
lodgment. And what, monks, is forbidden ground, a foreign region?
The Five Pleasures of Sense. What are the Five? Pleasurable Sights,
Sounds, Odors, Tastes, Contacts. And what, monks, is lawful ground,
the region of the fathers? The Four Earnest Meditations. What are the
Four? Meditation on the Body, on the Sensations, on the Thoughts, on
the Conditions of Existence. Walk, monks, in lawful ground, in the
region of the fathers. If, monks, you walk in lawful ground, in the
region of the fathers, the Evil One will not obtain entrance, the
Evil One will not obtain lodgment.”
_B. Uncanonical version._
Jātaka 168: ii. 58-60.
_A hawk flying strong._ This stanza was recited by the Teacher while
in residence at Jetavana to explain his own meaning in the Parable
of the Bird. For one day the Teacher addressed the monks: “Walk,
monks, in lawful ground, in the region of the fathers.” Then he
said: “You just stay where you belong. In former times even animals,
because they left their own ancestral region and walked in forbidden
ground, fell into the hands of their enemies, but through their own
intelligence and resourcefulness escaped from the hands of their
enemies.” So saying, he related the following Story of the Past:
In times past, when Brahmadatta ruled at Benāres, the Future Buddha
was reborn as a quail, and made his home in a field of clods, turned
up by the plow. One day he said to himself: “I will seek food in a
foreign region.” So he left off seeking food in his own region and went
to the edge of a wood. Now while he was picking up food there, a hawk
saw him and attacked him with violence and caught him. As the hawk was
carrying off the quail, the quail thus lamented: “I am indeed mighty
unfortunate, I possess very little merit,--I who walked in forbidden
ground, in a foreign region. If to-day I had walked in my own ground,
in the region of my fathers, this hawk would certainly not have been
equal to coming to a combat with me.”
“But, quail, what is your feeding-ground? What is the region of your
fathers?”
“A field of clods, turned up by the plow.”
Then the hawk, not exerting his strength, released him. “Go, quail!
Even there you will not escape.” The quail went there, and mounting a
big clod, stood and cried to the hawk: “Come now, hawk!”
The hawk, exerting his strength, flapped both his wings and attacked
the quail with violence. But when the quail knew: “This hawk is coming
for me with a vengeance!” he turned and entered a crack in that very
clod. The hawk, unable to check his speed, struck his breast against
that very clod. Thus the hawk, with heart broken and eyes bulging out,
met destruction.
When the Teacher had related this Story of the Past, he said:
“Thus, monks, even animals, when they walk in forbidden ground,
fall into the hands of their adversaries; but when they walk in
their own ground, in the region of their fathers, they humble their
adversaries. Therefore you also must not walk in forbidden ground,
in a foreign region. If, monks, you walk in forbidden ground, in a
foreign region, the Evil One will obtain entrance, the Evil One will
obtain lodgment. If, monks, you walk in lawful ground, in the region
of the fathers, the Evil One will not obtain entrance, the Evil
One will not obtain lodgment.” Then, revealing his omniscience, he
uttered the first stanza:
A hawk flying strong, attacked with violence
A quail standing in his feeding-ground, and thus met death.
Now when the hawk had thus met his death, the quail came out and
exclaimed: “I have seen the back of my enemy!” And standing on his
heart and breathing forth a solemn utterance, the quail uttered the
second stanza:
Endowed with sense, delighting in my own feeding-ground,
My enemy gone, I rejoice, intent on my own good.
The Teacher, having proclaimed the Truths by the narration of this
fable, identified the personages in the Birth-story as follows: “At
that time the hawk was Devadatta, but the quail was I myself.”
_21. How Not To Hit an Insect._
_Better an enemy with sense than a friend without it._
_A. Boy and mosquito._
Jātaka 44: i. 246-248.
_Better an enemy._ This parable was related by the Teacher while he
was journeying from place to place in the country of the Magadhas, in
a certain little village, with reference to some foolish villagers.
The story goes that once upon a time the Teacher went from Sāvatthi
to the kingdom of Magadha, and journeying about from place to
place in that kingdom, arrived at a certain little village. Now
that village was inhabited for the most part by men who were utter
fools. There one day those utter fools of men assembled and took
counsel together, saying: “Folks, when we enter the forest and do
our work, the mosquitoes eat us up, and because of this our work is
interrupted. Let us, every one, take bows and weapons, go and fight
with the mosquitoes, pierce and cut all the mosquitoes, and thus
make way with them.” They went to the forest with the thought in
their minds, “We’ll pierce the mosquitoes.” But they pierced and hit
one another and came to grief, and on their return, lay down within
the boundaries of the village, in the village-square, and at the
village-gate.
The Teacher, surrounded by the Congregation of Monks, entered that
village for alms. The rest of the inhabitants, being wise men,
seeing the Exalted One, erected a pavilion at the village-gate,
gave abundant alms to the Congregation of Monks presided over by
the Buddha, saluted the Teacher, and sat down. The Teacher, seeing
wounded men lying here and there, asked those lay disciples: “Here
are many men who are in a bad way. What have they done?” “Reverend
Sir, these men started out with the thought in their minds, ‘We’ll
have a fight with the mosquitoes.’ But they pierced one another and
returned themselves the worse for wear.” Said the Teacher: “Not only
in their present state of existence have utter fools of men, with the
thought in their minds, ‘We’ll hit mosquitoes,’ hit themselves; in a
previous state of existence also they were the very men who, with the
thought in their minds, ‘We’ll hit a mosquito,’ hit something very
different.” Then, in response to a request of those men, he related
the following Story of the Past:
In times past, when Brahmadatta ruled at Benāres, the Future Buddha
made his living by trading. At that time, in the kingdom of Kāsi, in
a certain frontier village, dwelt many carpenters. There a certain
grey-haired carpenter was planing a tree. Now a mosquito settled on his
head,--his head looked like the surface of a copper bowl!--and pierced
his head with his stinger, just as though he were sticking him with
a spear. Said he to his son who sat beside him: “Son, a mosquito is
stinging me on the head,--it feels just as if he were sticking me with
a spear! Shoo him away!” “Father, wait a moment! I’ll kill him with a
single blow!”
At that time the Future Buddha also, seeking wares for himself, having
reached that village, was sitting in that carpenter’s hut. Well, that
carpenter said to his son: “Shoo this mosquito off!” “I’ll shoo him
off, father!” replied the son. Taking his stand immediately behind his
father, the son, with the thought in his mind, “I’ll hit the mosquito!”
raised aloft a big, sharp axe, and split the skull of his father in
two. The carpenter died on the spot. The Future Buddha, seeing what the
son had done, thought: “Even an enemy, if he be a wise man, is better;
for an enemy, though it be from fear of human vengeance, will not
kill.” And he uttered the following stanza:
Better an enemy with sense
Than a friend without it,
For with the words, “I’ll kill a mosquito!”
A son,--both deaf and dumb!--
Split his father’s skull!
Having uttered this stanza, the Future Buddha arose and passed away
according to his deeds. As for the carpenter, his kinsfolk did their
duty by his body.
Said the Teacher: “Thus, lay disciples, in a previous state of
existence also they were the very men who, with the thought in their
minds, ‘We’ll hit a mosquito,’ hit something very different.” Having
related this parable, he joined the connection and identified the
personages in the Birth-story as follows: “But the wise man who
uttered the stanza and departed on that occasion was I myself.”
_B. Girl and fly._
Jātaka 45: i. 248-249.
_Better an enemy._ This parable was related by the Teacher while he
was in residence at Jetavana with reference to a certain slave-girl.
A certain wealthy merchant, we are told, had a slave-girl. Where she
was pounding rice, her old mother came in and lay down. Flies buzzed
round her and ate her up, just as though they were piercing her with
needles. She said to her daughter: “My dear, the flies are eating
me up. Shoo them off!” “I’ll shoo them off!” replied the daughter.
Raising her pestle aloft, intending to kill the flies, with the
thought in her mind, “I’ll make way with them!” she struck her mother
with the pestle and killed her. When she saw what she had done, she
began to weep: “Mother! Mother!”
They reported that incident to the merchant. The merchant had her
body attended to, and went to the monastery and reported the whole
incident to the Teacher. Said the Teacher: “Verily, householder,
not only in her present state of existence has this girl, with the
thought in her mind, ‘I’ll kill the flies on my mother’s head!’
struck her mother with a pestle and killed her; in a previous state
of existence also she killed her mother in the very same way.” And in
response to the merchant’s request, he related the following Story of
the Past:
In times past, when Brahmadatta ruled at Benāres, the Future Buddha
was reborn in a merchant’s household, and on the death of his father,
succeeded to the post of merchant. He also had a slave-girl. She also,
when her mother came to the place where she was pounding rice and said
to her, “My dear, shoo the flies away from me!”--she also, in the very
same way, struck her mother with a pestle and killed her and began to
weep. The Future Buddha, hearing of that incident, thought: “For even
an enemy in this world, if only he be a wise man, is better!” And he
uttered the following stanza:
Better an enemy who is intelligent
Than a well-disposed person who is a fool!
Look at that wretched little slave-girl!
She killed her mother, and now,--she weeps!
With this stanza did the Future Buddha preach the Doctrine, praising
the man of wisdom.
Said the Teacher: “Verily, householder, not only in her present state
of existence has this girl, with the thought in her mind, ‘I’ll
kill flies!’ caused the death of her mother; in a previous state of
existence also she caused the death of her mother in the very same
way.” Having related this parable, he joined the connection and
identified the personages in the Birth-story as follows: “At that
time that very mother was the mother, that very daughter was the
daughter, but the wealthy merchant was I myself.”
_22. Monkey-Gardeners._
_Misdirected effort spells failure._
_A. One-stanza version._
Jātaka 46: i. 249-251.
_Never, in the hands of one who knows not what is good._ This parable
was related by the Teacher in a certain little village in the country
of the Kosalas with reference to one who spoiled a garden.
The story goes that the Teacher, while journeying from place to place
in the country of the Kosalas, arrived at a certain little village.
There a certain householder invited the Teacher, provided seats in
his garden, gave alms to the Congregation of Monks presided over
by the Buddha, and said: “Reverend Sirs, walk about in this garden
according to your pleasure.”
The monks arose, and accompanied by the gardener, walked about
the garden. Seeing a certain bare spot, they asked the gardener:
“Disciple, everywhere else this garden has dense shade, but in this
spot there is not so much as a tree or a shrub. What, pray, is the
reason for this?” “Reverend Sirs, when this garden was planted, a
certain village boy watered it. In this spot he pulled up the young
trees by the roots, and according as the roots were large or small,
watered them plentifully or sparingly. Those young trees withered and
died. That’s how this spot comes to be so bare!”
The monks approached the Teacher and reported that matter to him.
Said the Teacher: “Not only in his present state of existence has
that village boy spoiled a garden; in a previous state of existence
also he did naught but spoil a garden.” So saying, he related the
following Story of the Past:
In times past, when Brahmadatta ruled at Benāres, a holiday was
proclaimed. From the moment they heard the holiday drum, the residents
of the entire city went about making holiday.
At that time many monkeys lived in the king’s garden. The gardener
thought: “A holiday has been proclaimed in the city. I’ll tell
these monkeys to water the garden, and then I’ll go make holiday.”
Approaching the leader of the monkeys, he said: “Master monkey-leader,
this garden is of great use even to you. Here you eat flowers and
fruits and shoots. A holiday has been proclaimed in the city. I’m going
to make holiday.” And he asked him the question: “Can you water the
young trees in this garden until I come back?” “Yes, indeed, I’ll water
them.” “Very well,” said the gardener; “be heedful.” So saying, he gave
those monkeys water-skins and wooden water-pots to use in watering
the trees, and departed. The monkeys took the water-skins and wooden
water-pots and watered the young trees.
[Illustration: “_When you water the young trees, pull them up by the
roots, every one._”]
Now the leader of the monkeys said to the monkeys: “Master-monkeys, the
water must not be wasted. When you water the young trees, pull them
up by the roots, every one; look at the roots; water plentifully
the roots that strike deep, but sparingly the roots that do not strike
deep; later on we shall have a hard time getting water.” “Very well,”
said the monkeys, promising to do as he told them to. And they did so.
At that time a certain wise man saw those monkeys working away in the
king’s garden, and said to them: “Master-monkeys, why are you pulling
up by the roots every one of those young trees and watering them
plentifully or sparingly according as the roots are large or small?”
The monkeys replied: “That’s what the monkey who is our leader told
us to do.” When the wise man heard that reply, he thought: “Alas!
alas! Those that are fools, those that lack wisdom, say to themselves:
‘We’ll do good.’ But harm’s the only thing they do!” And he uttered the
following stanza:
Never, in the hands of one who knows not what is good,
Does a good undertaking turn out happily.
A man who lacks intelligence spoils what is good
Like the monkey who worked in the garden.
Thus, with this stanza, did that wise man censure the leader of the
monkeys. Having so done, he departed from the garden with his followers.
Said the Teacher: “Not only in his present state of existence has
that village boy spoiled a garden; in a previous state of existence
also he did naught but spoil a garden.” Having related this parable,
he joined the connection and identified the personages in the
Birth-story as follows: “At that time the leader of the monkeys was
the village boy who spoiled a garden, but the wise man was I myself.”
_B. Three-stanza version._
Jātaka 268: ii. 345-347.
_If the monkey considered the best of the crowd._ This parable was
related by the Teacher in the South Mountain region with reference to
a certain gardener’s son.
The story goes that the Teacher, after keeping residence for the
period of the rains, departed from Jetavana and journeyed from place
to place in the South Mountain region. Now a certain lay disciple
invited the Congregation of Monks presided over by the Buddha,
provided seats in his garden, delighted them with rice-gruel and hard
food, and said: “Noble sirs, if you desire to take a walk about the
garden, go with this gardener.” And he gave orders to the gardener:
“Pray give the noble monks fruits and other such-like edibles.”
As the monks walked about, they saw a certain cleared space, and
asked: “This space is cleared, without growing trees; what, pray, is
the reason for this?” Then the gardener told them: “The story goes
that a certain gardener’s son once watered the saplings. ‘I’ll water
them plentifully or sparingly according as the roots are large or
small,’ thought he. So he pulled them up by the roots and watered
them plentifully or sparingly according as the roots were large or
small. That’s how this space comes to be cleared!”
The monks went to the Teacher and reported that matter to him. Said
the Teacher: “Not only in his present state of existence has that
youth spoiled a garden; in a previous state of existence also he did
naught but spoil a garden.” So saying, he related the following Story
of the Past:
In times past, when Vissasena ruled at Benāres, a holiday was
proclaimed. Thought the gardener: “I’ll go make holiday;” and said
to the monkeys who lived in the garden: “This garden is of great use
to you. I’m going to make holiday for seven days. You must water the
saplings on the seventh day.” “Very well,” said they, consenting. He
gave them little water-skins and departed.
The monkeys did as they were told and watered the saplings. Now the
leader of the monkeys said to the monkeys: “Wait a moment! Water is at
all times hard to get; it must not be wasted. What you must do is to
pull up the saplings by the roots, note the length of the roots, water
plentifully the saplings that have long roots, but sparingly those
that have short roots.” “Very well,” said the monkeys, and went about
watering the saplings, some of them pulling the saplings up by the
roots and others planting them again.
At that time the Future Buddha was the son of a certain notable in
Benāres. Having occasion, for some purpose or other, to go to the
garden, he saw those monkeys working away, and asked them: “Who told
you to do this?” “The monkey who is our leader.” “Well! if this is the
wisdom of your leader, what must yours be like!” And explaining the
matter, he uttered the first stanza:
If the monkey considered the best of the crowd
Has wisdom like this,
Then what in the world must the others be like?
Hearing this remark, the monkeys uttered the second stanza:
Brahman, you don’t know what you are talking about
When you blame us like this;
For how, unless we see the roots,
Can we know whether the tree stands firm?
Hearing their reply, the Future Buddha uttered the third stanza:
It isn’t you I blame,--not I,--
Nor the other monkeys in the wood;
Vissasena alone is the one to blame,
Who asked you to tend his trees for him.
When the Teacher had related this parable, he identified the
personages in the Birth-story as follows: “At that time the leader of
the monkeys was the youth who spoiled the garden, but the wise man
was I myself.”
_23. Two Dicers._
_Take care!_
_A. Canonical version._
Dīgha ii. 348-349.
In olden times two dicers played at dice. The first dicer swallowed
every ace. The second dicer saw that dicer swallow every ace. Seeing,
he said this to that dicer: “You, sir, have it all your own way. Give
me the dice, sir; I must hurry away.” “Yes, sir,” said that dicer, and
handed over the dice to that dicer.
Now that dicer painted the dice with poison, and said this to that
dicer: “Come, sir, let us play at dice.” “Yes, sir,” said that dicer in
assent to that dicer.
A second time also those dicers played at dice; a second time also that
dicer swallowed every ace. The second dicer saw that dicer swallow for
the second time also every ace. Seeing, he said this to that dicer:
Smeared with the strongest poison
Was the die the man swallowed, but knew it not.
Swallow, O swallow, wicked dicer!
Later it will taste bitter to you.
_B. Uncanonical version._
Jātaka 91: i. 379-380.
On a certain occasion the Exalted One reproved the monks for handling
their property carelessly. Said he: “Monks, careless handling of
property is like careless handling of deadly poison. For men of old,
through carelessness, not knowing what was the matter, ate poison,
and as a result experienced great suffering.” So saying, he related
the following Story of the Past:
In times past, when Brahmadatta ruled at Benāres, the Future Buddha
was reborn in a household of great wealth. When he reached manhood, he
became a dicer. Now a second dicer used to play with the Future Buddha,
and he was a cheat. So long as he was winning, he would not break the
play-ring; but when he lost, he would put a die in his mouth, say, “A
die is lost!” break the play-ring, and make off.
The Future Buddha, knowing the reason for this, said: “Let be! I shall
find some way of dealing with him.” So taking the dice to his own home,
he painted them with deadly poison and let them dry thoroughly. Then,
taking them with him, he went to the second dicer’s and said: “Come,
sir, let us play at dice.” “Yes, sir,” said the second dicer, and
marked out the play-ring.
As the second dicer played with the Future Buddha, he lost, and put a
die in his month. Now the Future Buddha, seeing him do this, said:
“Just swallow! Later you will know what that is.” And to rebuke him he
recited the following stanza:
Smeared with the strongest poison
Was the die the man swallowed, but knew it not.
Swallow, O swallow, wicked dicer!
Later it will taste bitter to you.
Even as the Future Buddha spoke, he swooned from the effect of the
poison, rolled his eyes, dropped his shoulders, and fell. Said the
Future Buddha: “Now I must grant him his life.” So giving him an emetic
containing herbs, he made him vomit. Then, giving him ghee, honey, and
sugar to eat, he made him well. Finally he admonished him: “Never do
such a thing again.” And having performed alms-giving and the other
works of merit, the Future Buddha passed away according to his deeds.
When the Teacher had completed this parable, he said: “Monks,
careless handling of property is like careless handling of deadly
poison.” Then he identified the personages in the Birth-story as
follows: “At that time the wise dicer was I myself.”
_24. Two Caravan-Leaders._
_Be prudent!_
_A. Canonical version._
Dīgha ii. 342-346.
In olden times a great caravan of a thousand carts went from the
eastern country to the western country. Wherever it went, very quickly
were consumed grass, sticks, water, and pot-herbs. Now over that
caravan were two caravan-leaders, one over five hundred carts, one over
five hundred carts. And to these caravan-leaders occurred the following
thought: “This is a great caravan of a thousand carts. Wherever we go,
very quickly are consumed grass, sticks, water, and pot-herbs. Suppose
we were to divide this caravan into two caravans of five hundred carts
each!” They divided that caravan into two caravans, one of five hundred
carts, one of five hundred carts. One caravan-leader only loaded his
carts with abundant grass and sticks and water, and started his caravan
forward.