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:
[174] Vânara_m_ is a gloss, I suppose.
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 (_s_ila), 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]!'
[175] This term 'worlds' lokâ_h_ is a common appellation of the
happy state or states after death.
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 _G_âtaka, 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.
[176] The tinduka or tindukî is the diosperos embryopteris, a
common tree, not tall, evergreen with long, glimmering leaves. See
Watt, Dictionary of the Economic Products of India, III, pp.
141-145. 'The fruit is eatable, but excessively sour;' it is a food
of the poor.
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.
[177] The so-called âpaddharma, cp. stanza 8 of Story XII.
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:
[178] See supra, note on p. 147.--As to the punishment of this
treacherous man (mitradhruk), cp. a similar punishment of the
slanderer Kokâliya in Suttanipâta III, 10.
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?'
[179] A Pûtana is a kind of ghost looking terrible. They live in
cemeteries, and like to feed on human flesh.
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 _S_ARABHA.
(Cp. the Pâli _G_âtaka, 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.