[1] This story may be found in the curious old Japanese book called
_Jikkun-Shō_. The same legend has furnished the subject of an
interesting _Nō_-play, called _Dai-É_ (“The Great Assembly”).
In Japanese popular art, the Tengu are commonly represented either
as winged men with beak-shaped noses, or as birds of prey. There
are different kinds of Tengu; but all are supposed to be
mountain-haunting spirits, capable of assuming many forms, and
occasionally appearing as crows, vultures, or eagles. Buddhism
appears to class the Tengu among the Mârakâyikas.
In the days of the Emperor Go-Reizei, there was a holy priest living in
the temple of Saito, on the mountain called Hiyei-Zan, near Kyōto. One
summer day this good priest, after a visit to the city, was returning
to his temple by way of Kita-no-Ōji, when he saw some boys ill-treating
a kite. They had caught the bird in a snare, and were beating it with
sticks. “Oh, the, poor creature!” compassionately exclaimed the
priest;—“why do you torment it so, children?” One of the boys made
answer:—“We want to kill it to get the feathers.” Moved by pity, the
priest persuaded the boys to let him have the kite in exchange for a
fan that he was carrying; and he set the bird free. It had not been
seriously hurt, and was able to fly away.
Happy at having performed this Buddhist act of merit, the priest then
resumed his walk. He had not proceeded very far when he saw a strange
monk come out of a bamboo-grove by the road-side, and hasten towards
him. The monk respectfully saluted him, and said:—“Sir, through your
compassionate kindness my life has been saved; and I now desire to
express my gratitude in a fitting manner.” Astonished at hearing
himself thus addressed, the priest replied:—“Really, I cannot remember
to have ever seen you before: please tell me who you are.” “It is not
wonderful that you cannot recognize me in this form,” returned the
monk: “I am the kite that those cruel boys were tormenting at
Kita-no-Ōji. You saved my life; and there is nothing in this world more
precious than life. So I now wish to return your kindness in some way
or other. If there be anything that you would like to have, or to know,
or to see,—anything that I can do for you, in short,—please to tell me;
for as I happen to possess, in a small degree, the Six Supernatural
Powers, I am able to gratify almost any wish that you can express.” On
hearing these words, the priest knew that he was speaking with a Tengu;
and he frankly made answer:—“My friend, I have long ceased to care for
the things of this world: I am now seventy years of age; neither fame
nor pleasure has any attraction for me. I feel anxious only about my
future birth; but as that is a matter in which no one can help me, it
were useless to ask about it. Really, I can think of but one thing
worth wishing for. It has been my life-long regret that I was not in
India in the time of the Lord Buddha, and could not attend the great
assembly on the holy mountain Gridhrakûta. Never a day passes in which
this regret does not come to me, in the hour of morning or of evening
prayer. Ah, my friend! if it were possible to conquer Time and Space,
like the Bodhisattvas, so that I could look upon that marvellous
assembly, how happy should I be!”
“Why,” the Tengu exclaimed, “that pious wish of yours can easily be
satisfied. I perfectly well remember the assembly on the Vulture Peak;
and I can cause everything that happened there to reappear before you,
exactly as it occurred. It is our greatest delight to represent such
holy matters…. Come this way with me!”
And the priest suffered himself to be led to a place among pines, on
the slope of a hill. “Now,” said the Tengu, “you have only to wait here
for awhile, with your eyes shut. Do not open them until you hear the
voice of the Buddha preaching the Law. Then you can look. But when you
see the appearance of the Buddha, you must not allow your devout
feelings to influence you in any way;—you must not bow down, nor pray,
nor utter any such exclamation as, ‘_Even so, Lord!_’ or ‘_O thou
Blessed One!_’ You must not speak at all. Should you make even the
least sign of reverence, something very unfortunate might happen to
me.” The priest gladly promised to follow these injunctions; and the
Tengu hurried away as if to prepare the spectacle.
The day waned and passed, and the darkness came; but the old priest
waited patiently beneath a tree, keeping his eyes closed. At last a
voice suddenly resounded above him,—a wonderful voice, deep and clear
like the pealing of a mighty bell,—the voice of the Buddha Sâkyamuni
proclaiming the Perfect Way. Then the priest, opening his eyes in a
great radiance, perceived that all things had been changed: the place
was indeed the Vulture Peak,—the holy Indian mountain Gridhrakûta; and
the time was the time of the Sûtra of the Lotos of the Good Law. Now
there were no pines about him, but strange shining trees made of the
Seven Precious Substances, with foliage and fruit of gems;—and the
ground was covered with Mandârava and Manjûshaka flowers showered from
heaven;—and the night was filled with fragrance and splendour and the
sweetness of the great Voice. And in mid-air, shining as a moon above
the world, the priest beheld the Blessed One seated upon the
Lion-throne, with Samantabhadra at his right hand, and Manjusri at his
left,—and before them assembled—immeasurably spreading into Space, like
a flood Of stars—the hosts of the Mahâsattvas and the Bodhisattvas with
their countless following: “gods, demons, Nâgas, goblins, men, and
beings not human.” Sâriputra he saw, and Kâsyapa, and Ânanda, with all
the disciples of the Tathâgata,—and the Kings of the Devas,—and the
Kings of the Four Directions, like pillars of fire,—and the great
Dragon-Kings,—and the Gandharvas and Garudas,—and the Gods of the Sun
and the Moon and the Wind,—and the shining myriads of Brahmâ’s heaven.
And incomparably further than even the measureless circling of the
glory of these, he saw—made visible by a single ray of light that shot
from the forehead of the Blessed One to pierce beyond uttermost
Time—the eighteen hundred thousand Buddha-fields of the Eastern Quarter
with all their habitants,—and the beings in each of the Six States of
Existence,—and even the shapes of the Buddhas extinct, that had entered
into Nirvâna. These, and all the gods, and all the demons, he saw bow
down before the Lion-throne; and he heard that multitude incalculable
of beings praising the Sûtra of the Lotos of the Good Law,—like the
roar of a sea before the Lord. Then forgetting utterly his
pledge,—foolishly dreaming that he stood in the very presence of the
very Buddha,—he cast himself down in worship with tears of love and
thanksgiving; crying out with a loud voice, “_O thou Blessed One!_”…
Instantly with a shock as of earthquake the stupendous spectacle
disappeared; and the priest found himself alone in the dark, kneeling
upon the grass of the mountain-side. Then a sadness unspeakable fell
upon him, because of the loss of the vision, and because of the
thoughtlessness that had caused him to break his word. As he
sorrowfully turned his steps homeward, the goblin-monk once more
appeared before him, and said to him in tones of reproach and
pain:—“Because you did not keep the promise which you made to me, and
heedlessly allowed your feelings to overcome you, the Gohotendó, who is
the Guardian of the Doctrine, swooped down suddenly from heaven upon
us, and smote us in great anger, crying out, ‘_How do ye dare thus to
deceive a pious person?_’ Then the other monks, whom I had assembled,
all fled in fear. As for myself, one of my wings has been broken,—so
that now I cannot fly.” And with these words the Tengu vanished
forever.