conclusion is dreary downfall; life is as frail and fickle as a flash of
lightning. It is for this very reason, that ye must be upon your guard
against carelessness (in the fulfilment of your duties), and also
endeavour to increase your merit by charity, which has good conduct
(_s_îla) for its ornament. Meritorious actions, indeed, are the
strongest support for the creatures moving round in the troublesome
succession of births.
9, 10. 'That the moon by its lovely brightness outdoes the lustre of the
host of stars, that the sun's splendour overpowers the (other)
luminaries, is due to the sublimity of the qualities produced by merit.
It is also by the power of their merit that mighty kings cause
presumptuous high officials and princes to bear, like excellent horses,
willingly and with abated pride the yoke of their command.
11. 'But if they are devoid of merit, misfortune goes after them, be
they ever moving about on the road of political wisdom (nîti)[55]. For
that unhappiness, being rebuffed by the excess of merit, hovers, as if
moved by wrath, round the possessors of demerit.
[55] The political wisdom, which aims at attaining worldly ends by
worldly means, and makes morals subordinate to self-interest, is
taught in such books as Kâmandaki's Nîti_s_âstra, _S_ukra's
Nîtisâra, in the Pa_ñ_katantra and the Hitopade_s_a. It is
considered sinful by Buddhistic lore. The _G_âtakamâlâ often
reproves it, see for instance, IX, 10; XXIII, 51.
12. 'Leave then that path of demerit; suffering is underlying it, and it
is connected with dishonour. But merit being the illustrious source and
instrument of happiness, ye must keep your mind intent on all
opportunities of gathering it.'
The others, after listening to his teaching, said amen, and saluting him
with respect circumambulated him from left to right, then they went off
each to his dwelling. When his comrades were not far off, the
Great-minded One entered upon this reflection:
13-15. 'They are able to honour with some food or other the guest that
may happen to arrive, but I am here in a pitiful condition. It is in no
way possible to present a guest with the very bitter blades of grass I
cut off with my teeth. Alas! how helpless I am! My powerlessness
afflicts me. Of what use, then, is life to me, since a guest that ought
to be a matter of joy to me, must in this manner become a matter of
sorrow!
'On what occasion, then, may this worthless body, which is not even able
to attend on a guest, be given up so as to conduce to the profit of
anybody?' When his reflection had come to that point, the Great-minded
One recovered his keenness of thought. 'Well!
16. 'The property which will suit the purpose of honouring any guest is
easy to be got; for it is in my power; it is unobjectionable; it belongs
to none but me; indeed, it is the property of my body.
'Why, then, should I be in trouble?
17. 'Yes, I have found proper food for my guest; now, my heart, abandon
thy grief and thy sadness! With this vile body of mine I will practise
hospitality and satisfy the want of my guest.'
Having thus resolved, the Great Being felt an extreme delight as though
he had obtained a very great gain, and remained there (in his dwelling,
waiting for some guest).
18. Now, when that sublime reflection had presented itself to the Great
Being's mind, the Celestials manifested their propitiousness and their
power.
19-21. Earth shook with her mountains, as if from joy, nor was her
garment, the Ocean, quiet[56]; divine drums resounded in the sky; the
regions of the horizon were ornamented with a placid sheen; all around
clouds of a pleasant aspect, which were girded with lightnings and gave
forth prolonged soft rattlings of thunder, strewed on him a shower of
flowers falling close together, so as to spread the pollen through the
air by their contact. The god of wind, too, showed him his esteem;
blowing steadily he bore to him the fragrant flower-dust from various
trees, as if out of gladness he presented him with gauzy veils, bearing
them up and so disarranging the figures interwoven in them.
[56] Read babhûvânibh_ri_tâº. Cp. supra, II, 38, and
Bodhisattvâvadânakalpalatâ II, 52.
As the deities, rejoiced and astonished, were praising everywhere the
marvellous resolution of the Great Being, _S_akra, the Lord of the
Devas, became aware of it; and curiosity and surprise overtaking his
mind, he was desirous of knowing the truth about his disposition. On the
next day at noon-tide, when the sun, ascending in the midst of the sky,
darts his sharpest beams; when the horizon, clothed in a net of
trembling rays of light and veiled with the outburst of radiant heat,
does not suffer itself to be looked upon; when shadows are contracting;
when the interior of the woods resounds with the loud shrieks of the
cicadae; when birds cease to show themselves and the vigour of
travelling people is exhausted by heat and fatigue: in that time of the
day, then, _S_akra, the chief (adhipati) of the Devas having assumed the
figure of a Brâhman, cried out not far from the spot where the four
animals were living. He wept and wailed aloud, like one who has lost his
way, and as one worn out with hunger and thirst, weariness and sorrow.
22. 'Alone and astray, having lost my caravan, I am roaming through the
deep forest, exhausted by hunger and lassitude. Help me, ye pious!
23. 'Not knowing the right way nor the wrong, having lost my faculty of
orientation, wandering at random, alone in this wilderness, I suffer
from heat, from thirst, from fatigue. Who will rejoice me by friendly
words of hospitality?'
The Great Beings, touched in their heart and alarmed by the sound of his
piteous outcries for help, quickly went to that spot, and beholding him
who offered the miserable appearance of a traveller gone astray,
approached him and in a respectful manner spoke to him these words of
comfort:
24, 25. 'Be no more disturbed, thinking thou art astray in the
wilderness; with us thou art altogether as if thou wert with thine own
disciples. Therefore, grant us the favour of accepting to-day our
attendance, gentle sir; to-morrow thou mayst go thy way according to thy
wish.'
Then the otter, understanding from his silence that he accepted the
invitation, went off hastily; joy and agitation quickened his pace. He
came back with seven rohita-fishes, which he offered him, saying:
26. 'These seven fishes I found on the dry ground, where they were lying
motionless, as if asleep through lassitude; either they have been left
there by fishermen who forgot them, or they have jumped upon the shore
through fear. Feed on them, and stay here.'
Then the jackal also brought to him such food as he happened to have at
that time, and after bowing reverentially, he spoke with deference
thus:
27. 'Here, traveller, is one lizard and a vessel of sour milk, left by
somebody; grant me the benefit of thy enjoying them, and take thy abode
in this forest this night, O thou who art an abode of virtues!'
So speaking he handed them over to him with an extreme gladness of mind.
Then the monkey drew near. He brought mango-fruits, ripe and
consequently distinguished by their softness, their strong orange
colour, as if they were dyed with red orpiment, their very red
stalk-ends, and their roundness; and performing the reverence of the
a_ñg_ali, he spoke:
28. 'Ripe mangos, delicious water, shadow refreshing like the pleasure
of good society, these things, O best of those who know the brahma, I
have for thee. Enjoy them, and stay this night here.'
Then the hare approached, and as soon as he had made his reverence, he
bade him accept the offer of his own body. Thus he spoke, looking up to
him with great regard:
29. 'A hare, who has grown up in the forest, has no beans nor sesamum
seeds nor grains of rice to offer, but prepare this body of mine with
fire, and having fed upon it stay over this night in this hermitage.
30. 'On the holiday of a mendicant's arrival every one provides him with
whatever of his goods may be a means of supplying his wants. But my
wealth is limited to my body; take it, then, this whole of my
possessions.'
_S_akra answered:
31. 'How is it possible that anybody like me should kill another living
being? And how much less a being like thee, who hast shown friendship to
me?'
The hare said: 'Verily, this becomes well a Brâhman, inclined to
compassion. Well then, thou must grant me at least the favour of resting
here in this place; in the mean while I think I shall find in some way
or other the means of showing my favour to thee.' Now _S_akra, the Lord
of the Devas, understanding his intention, created by magic a heap of
charcoal burning without smoke; this mass had the colour of purified
gold, very thin flames shot forth out of it, and a multitude of sparks
were scattered about. The hare, who was looking around on all sides,
perceived that fire. On seeing it, he said, rejoiced, to _S_akra: 'I
have found that means of showing thee my favour. Thou, then, must fulfil
the hope with which I give thee this boon, and enjoy my body. See, great
Brâhman,
32. 'It is my duty to give in charity, and my heart is inclined to do
so, and in a person like thee I have met with a worthy guest; such an
opportunity for giving cannot be easily obtained. Let then my charity
not be useless, inasmuch as it depends on thee.'
So saying the Great-minded One persuaded him, and after showing him by
his salutation his esteem, his respect, and his hospitable mind--
33. Then, with the utmost gladness, like one desirous of wealth on
suddenly beholding a treasure, he threw himself in that blazing fire, as
the supreme ha_m_sa plunges into a pond with laughing lotuses.
When the chief of the Devas saw this deed, he was affected with the
highest admiration. Reassuming his own shape, he praised the Great Being
with words both agreeable to the mind and the ears and preceded by a
shower of celestial flowers. Then with his delicate hands of a rich
lustre, like that of the petal of the white lotus, and embellished with
their fingers resplendent like jewel ornaments, he took him up himself
and showed him to the Celestials. 'Behold, ye Devas, inhabitants of the
celestial residence, behold and rejoice at this astonishing deed, this
heroic exploit of this Great Being.
34. 'Oh, how he has given away his body without hesitation to-day, to be
charitable to his guest! But the fickle-minded[57] are not even able to
give up, without trembling, faded flowers, the remainder of a
sacrifice.
[57] Strength of mind, constancy, earnestness, wisdom and virtue
are all implied by the Buddhistic term dhîra; its opposite, adhîra,
denotes therefore those who possess the opposed qualities, the
'fickle-minded.'
35. 'What a contrast between the animal species, which he belongs to,
and the loftiness of his self-sacrifice, the sharpness of his mind!
Indeed, he confounds all such as are slow in striving for meritorious
actions, deities as well as men.
36. 'Oh, how his mind is impregnated with the fragrance of a constant
practice of virtues! How he loves good conduct, as he manifested by his
sublime deed!'
Then, in order to glorify that extraordinary fact, and having in view
the good of the world, _S_akra adorned with the image of the hare as a
distinctive mark both peaks on the top of the belvederes--one on his
most excellent palace Vai_g_ayanta and the other on Sudharmâ, the hall
of the Devas--and likewise the disc of the moon.
37, 38. At full-moon even now that image of the hare (_s_a_s_a) appears
in the moon's disc in the sky, as a reflected image shines in a silver
mirror. From that time onward _K_andra (the Moon), named also the
Ornament of the Night and the Cause of the Brilliancy of the
Night-waterlilies, is famous in the world as the Hare-marked
(_S_a_s_âṅka).
And the others, the otter, the jackal, and the ape, disappeared
thereafter (from the earth) and arrived in the world of the Devas,
thanks to their possessing such a holy friend.
* * * * *
So then the practice of charity according to their power by Great
Beings, even when in the state of beasts, is a demonstrated fact; who,
then, being a man, should not be charitable? [Moreover, this too is to
be propounded: 'Even beasts are honoured by the pious for their
attachment to virtues; for this reason one must be intent on virtues.']
VII. THE STORY OF AGASTYA.
(Comp. the Pâli _G_âtaka, No. 480, Fausb. IV, 236-242; and
_K_ariyâpi_t_aka I, 1.)
A heroic practice of liberality is an ornament even to ascetics, how
much more to householders; as is taught by the following.
In the time, when our Lord, still being a Bodhisattva, was moving on his
road through Sa_m_sâra for the good of the world, he was born of an
illustrious family of Brâhmans, which being distinguished by great
purity of conduct might pass for an ornament of the earth. His birth
enhanced the lustre of this family in the same way as the moon rising in
autumn with full and spotless orb, beautifies the firmament. He had in
due order obtained the different sacraments ordained by the sacred texts
and the tradition: _g_âtakarma and the rest; he had studied the Vedas
with their Aṅgas and the whole ritual, and the fame of his learning
filled the world of men. By the large gifts which he received, begging
from charitable people who were lovers of virtues, he amassed
considerable wealth.
1. Like a big cloud showering over the fields, he gladdened with his
wealth his relations, his friends, his clients, his guests, his
teachers, in short the distressed as well as those who are to be
honoured.
2. Owing to his grand munificence, the bright glory which he had
obtained by his learning shone the more. So the complete beauty of the
moon's full disc is still augmented with loveliness, when autumn makes
it shine brightly.
Yet the Great-minded One soon understood that the state of a householder
is a source of sorrow, and affords but meagre comfort; for by its close
connection with wrong business, it is thronged with noxious qualities,
it is the abode of carelessness (about religious duties), it is a
troublesome state, being connected with occupations for gathering wealth
and guarding it, it affords a scope for hundreds of arrows made up of
calamities and evil habits obstructive of tranquillity, and is
accompanied with toil, inasmuch as it implies the necessity of
accomplishing numberless tasks. On the other hand, he became convinced
that renunciation of the world brings about comfort by its freedom from
those evils, that it is a state favourable to the performance of
religious duties, and that it may be called the proper basis for
undertaking the religious practices required for salvation. So casting
away, as if it were a straw, that great abundance of wealth which he had
obtained without trouble, and which must have possessed charms for him
because of the high regard which he enjoyed among the people, he gave
himself up to the observance of the discipline and the self-restraint of
world-renouncing ascetics. But also, after his leaving the world--owing
to his celebrated fame, the remembrance of former intercourse, the
respect for his virtues, and the tranquillity by which he was
distinguished--the Great Being was frequented as before by people
longing for salvation, whose affection he had gained by the multitude of
his virtues. Yet, disliking that contact with householders, as
prejudicial to the happiness that arises from entire detachment from the
world, and an obstacle to throwing away the bonds by which he had held
to it, he repaired to the island of Kârâ, aspiring to solitude. That
island is situated in the Southern Ocean. Its outskirts are moistened by
the play of the wanton waves, which moved by the wind have the blue
colour of pieces of sapphire; white sand covers its ground; various
trees, the branches of which are adorned with twigs, flowers and fruits,
enhance its beauty; near its shore there is a lake of pure water. This
lovely country he embellished with the splendour of his hermitage.
3. There he lived, manifesting the lustre of his heavy penance by the
emaciation of his body, as the crescent appears in the sky, joining
great loveliness to a small size.
4. That this man living in the forest, absorbed in vows and penances,
and whose modest actions and sensations attested his tranquillity of
mind, was a Muni, even the wild quadrupeds and birds of the forest did
understand, even their small intellect became aware of it, and they
imitated his behaviour.
While staying in the grove of penance, the Great-minded One, being in
the habit of giving, continued also honouring the guests that happened
to arrive, with such roots and fruits as he had just gathered, with
fresh water and such hearty and kind words of welcome and blessings as
are appropriate to ascetics, and himself lived on as much of his
forest-produced food as his guests had left, strictly limiting his meals
to the sustenance of his body.
Now, the glory of his excessive penance having spread about, _S_akra,
the Lord of the Devas, touched by it, desired to prove his constancy. In
that part of the forest where the Great Being dwelt, he caused to
disappear successively all roots and fruits fit for the food of
ascetics. But the Bodhisattva, absorbed in meditation and being
accustomed to the feeling of contentment, insensible to the perplexing
influence of stupefaction, and indifferent concerning his food and
his body, did not direct his thoughts to the cause of that
disappearance[58]. And having dressed young leaves on the fire, he
accomplished with these the action of taking his meal, without any
feeling of discontent, nor longing for a better meal, but calm as ever
he went on living in the same way.
[58] For, if he had, he would have discovered it, owing to the
transcendent power he had obtained by his penance.
5. The livelihood of those who in earnest practise continence is nowhere
difficult to be obtained. Say, where are not found grass and leaves and
ponds?
Yet _S_akra, the Lord of the Devas, though his astonishment increased,
in consequence of the Bodhisattva's behaviour in that situation, and his
high opinion of his virtues grew stronger, resorted to another trial.
Like the wind at summer-time he stripped of their leaves the whole
number of trees, shrubs and grasses, that were in that grove. Then the
Bodhisattva, taking such fallen leaves as were still fresh, and boiling
them in water, lived on them without feeling any uneasiness; rejoiced by
the happiness of meditation, he stayed there as if he had feasted upon
ambrosia.
6. Modesty in the learned, disinterestedness in the wealthy, and
contentment in the ascetics: each of these splendid virtues is the
highest treasure of each of them[59].
[59] Instead of gu_n_a_s_obhâvidhi_h_ para_h_ I read ºnidhi_h_
para_h_, comp. 51, l. 11 of the edited text gu_n_âbhyâsanidher
udâratâ.
Now that very marvellous constancy of his contentment increased the
surprise of _S_akra, and as if he were angry on account of it, having
assumed the shape of a Brâhman, that he might be a guest, of course, he
appeared before the eyes of the Great Being, when at the time prescribed
by his vow, after performing the Agnihotra-sacrifice and repeating his
prayers, he was just looking about for some guest. And the Bodhisattva
rejoiced went to meet him, and welcoming him and addressing kind words
to him, invited him to take his meal by announcing to him that it was
meal-time. Understanding by his silence that he accepted, the
Great-minded One,
7. Manifesting by his expanding eyes and his blooming face the gladness
he experienced in practising charity, and rejoicing his guest with
gentle words both pleasant to the mind and to the ears, entertained him
with the whole of his boiled leaves, which he had had so much trouble to
procure, and himself was satisfied with joy alone.
And even so he entered his home of meditation[60], and passed that day
and night in the very ecstacy of gladness.
[60] In other words, his hut. Both Pâli redactions mention here his
pa_nn_asâlâ, 'hut of leaves.'
Now _S_akra reappeared to him in the same manner the next day at the
time destined for (the accomplishment of) his vow (of hospitality). So
he did also on the third, fourth, and fifth day. And the other received
him as his guest in the same way, and with still more joy.
8. No suffering, indeed, not even peril of life, is able to compel the
virtuous to a miserable infringement of their love for giving, a love
fostered by their practice of commiseration.
Then _S_akra, whose mind was overcome by the utmost amazement, knowing
him to be enabled by his excess of penance to get into the possession of
(his own) brilliant realm of the gods[61], if he did but ask for it,
began to feel uneasy, and fear arose within him. Having assumed the
wonderful beauty of his own celestial shape, he questioned him as to the
purpose for which he performed his penance.
[61] This fear of the Lord of the Devas rests on the belief in the
transcendent power of penance, which enables great ascetics to
aspire even to that dignity. _S_akra, afraid of human tapas and
trying to prevent its earning by every means, is a well-known
figure in Indian mythology.
9, 10. 'Say, on what hast thou set thy hopes, that they could impel thee
to leave thy beloved relations, who shed tears at thy departure, thy
household and possessions that had been a source of happiness to thee,
and to resort to this toilsome life of penance? For it is not for a
trifling motive that the wise despise enjoyments easily obtained, and
afflict their relations with grief, leaving them to go to the
penance-forest destructive of pleasures.
11. 'If thou thinkest it may be told me, please, satisfy my curiosity.
What may be the object of thy wishes, the penetration into the excellent
qualities of which fascinated to this point a mind like thine?'
The Bodhisattva replied: 'Hearken, sir, what I am exerting myself for.
12. 'Repeated births tend to great sorrow; so do calamitous old age and
illnesses, those dismal plagues; and the necessity of death is a
disturbance to the mind. From those evils I am resolved to save the
creatures.'
Then _S_akra, the Lord of the Devas, understanding that it was not his
own celestial splendour that was claimed by the Bodhisattva, was set at
rest, and as he was very pleased with that well-said sentence, he
honoured it by exclaiming 'Very well!' and requested him to accept some
boon.
13. 'Ascetic, Kâ_s_yapa[62], for this right and well-said sentence I
give thee some boon; choose then what thou desirest.'
[62] In the metrical part of the Pâli redaction of this story in
the _G_âtaka, Akitti (=Agastya) is likewise called Kassapa and
addressed by that name.
The Bodhisattva, being not at all desirous of pleasures and rejoicings
connected with existence, and thinking it painful even to ask for
anything, since he had attained the state of contentment, said to
_S_akra:
14. 'If thou wishest to give me some boon, that may please me, I ask the
foremost of the Devas this boon,
15. 'May that fire of covetousness, which after obtaining a beloved
wife, children, power, riches more abundant than had been longed for,
still goes on heating the mind of men never to be satisfied--may that
fire never enter my heart!'
The propensity to contentment declared by this well-turned saying
delighted _S_akra in a still higher degree. He praised the Bodhisattva
again, saying: 'Excellent, excellent!' and once more he urged him to
choose some boon.
16. 'Muni, also for this right and well-said sentence I offer thee
gladly as a present in return a second boon.'
Then the Bodhisattva, in order to show him the difficulty of getting rid
entirely of the innate evil passions[63], preached him the Law once more
under the guise of asking a boon.
[63] Viz. the kle_s_âs, cp. Dharmasa_m_graha LXVII with Kenjiu
Kasawara's explanatory note on p. 49 and the literature quoted
there.
17. 'If thou givest me some boon, thou Vâsava, abode of excellent
qualities, then I ask thee another boon, and no mean one, Lord of the
Devas.
18. 'May that fire of hatred, subdued by which the creatures come to[64]
loss of wealth, loss of caste and of good reputation, as if they were
vanquished by a hostile attack--may that fire be far from me!'