Part 15

"There was also a lobster in the pond, and when it listed the crane to eat him too, he said: 'I have taken all the fishes away and put them in a fine, large lake. Come along. I shall take thee, too!' 6

'But how wilt thou hold me to carry me along?' asked the lobster. 7

'I shall take hold of thee with my beak,' said the crane. 8

'Thou wilt let me fall if thou carry me like that. I will not go with thee!' replied the lobster. 9

'Thou needst not fear,' rejoined the crane; 'I shall hold thee quite tight all the way.' 10

"Then said the lobster to himself: 'If this crane once gets hold of a fish, he will certainly never let him go in a lake! Now if he should really put me into the lake it would be splendid; but if he does not, then I will cut his throat and kill him!' So he said to the crane: 'Look here, friend, thou wilt not be able to hold me tight enough; but we lobsters have a famous grip. If thou wilt let me catch hold of thee round the neck with my claws, I shall be glad to go with thee.' 11

"The crane did not see that the lobster was trying to outwit him, and agreed. So the lobster caught hold of his neck with his claws as securely as with a pair of blacksmith's pincers, and called out: 'Ready, ready, go!' 12

"The crane took him and showed him the lake, and then turned off toward the varana-tree. 'My dear uncle!' cried the lobster, 'The lake lies that way, but thou art taking me this other way.' 13

"Answered the crane: 'Thinkest thou so? Am I thy dear uncle? Thou meanest me to understand, I suppose, that I am thy slave, who has to lift thee up and carry thee about with him, where thou pleasest! Now cast thine eye upon that heap of fish-bones at the root of yonder varana-tree. Just as I have eaten those fish, every one of them, just so will I devour thee also!' 14

'Ah! those fishes got eaten through their own stupidity,' answered the lobster, 'but I am not going to let thee kill me. On the contrary, it is thou that I am going to destroy. For thou, in thy folly, hast not seen that I have outwitted thee. If we die, we both die together; for I will cut off this head of thine and cast it to the ground!' So saying, he gave the crane's neck a pinch with his claws as with a vise. 15

"Then gasping, and with tears trickling from his eyes, and trembling with the fear of death, the crane besought the lobster, saying: 'O, my Lord! Indeed I did not intend to eat thee. Grant me my life!' 16

'Very well! fly down and put me into the lake,' replied the lobster. 17

"And the crane turned round and stepped down into the lake, to place the lobster on the mud at its edge. Then the lobster cut the crane's neck through as clean as one would cut a lotus-stalk with a hunting-knife, and then entered the water!" 18

When the Teacher had finished this discourse, he added: "Not now only was this man outwitted in this way, but in other existences, too, by his own intrigues." 19

LXVIII.

FOUR KINDS OF MERIT.

There was a rich man who used to invite all the Brahmans of the neighborhood to his house, and, giving them rich gifts, offered great sacrifices to the gods. 1

And the Blessed One said: "If a man each month repeat a thousand sacrifices and give offerings without ceasing, he is not equal to him who but for one moment fixes his mind upon righteousness." 2

The world-honored Buddha continued: "There are four kinds of offering: first, when the gifts are large and the merit small; secondly, when the gifts are small and the merit small; thirdly, when the gifts are small and the merit large; and fourthly, when the gifts are large and the merit is also large. 3

"The first is the case of the deluded man who takes away life for the purpose of sacrificing to the gods, accompanied by carousing and feasting. Here the gifts are great, but the merit is small indeed. 4

"The gifts are small and the merit is also small, when from covetousness and an evil heart a man keeps to himself a part of that which he intends to offer. 5

"The merit is great, however, while the gift is small, when a man makes his offering from love and with a desire to grow in wisdom and in kindness. 6

"Lastly, the gift is large and the merit is large, when a wealthy man, in an unselfish spirit and with the wisdom of a Buddha, gives donations and founds institutions for the best of mankind to enlighten the minds of his fellow-men and to administer unto their needs." 7

LXIX.

THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD.

There was a certain Brahman in Kosambī, a wrangler and well versed in the Vedas. As he found no one whom he regarded his equal in debate he used to carry a lighted torch in his hand, and when asked for the reason of his strange conduct, he replied: "The world is so dark that I carry this torch to light it up, as far as I can." 1

A samana sitting in the market-place heard these words and said: "My friend, if thine eyes are blind to the sight of the omnipresent light of the day, do not call the world dark. Thy torch adds nothing to the glory of the sun and thy intention to illumine the minds of others is as futile as it is arrogant." 2

Whereupon the Brahman asked: "Where is the sun of which thou speakest?" And the samana replied: "The wisdom of the Tathāgata is the sun of the mind. His radiancy is glorious by day and night, and he whose faith is strong will not lack light on the path to Nirvāna where he will inherit bliss everlasting." 3

LXX.

LUXURIOUS LIVING.

While the Buddha was preaching his doctrine for the conversion of the world in the neighborhood of Savatthi, a man of great wealth who suffered from many ailmemts came to him with clasped hands and said: "World-honored Buddha, pardon me for my want of respect in not saluting thee as I ought, but I suffer greatly from obesity, excessive drowsiness, and other complaints, so that I cannot move without pain." 1

The Tathāgata, seeing the luxuries with which the man was surrounded asked him: "Hast thou a desire to know the cause of thy ailments?" And when the wealthy man expressed his willingness to learn, the Blessed One said: "There are five things which produce the condition of which thou complainest: opulent dinners, love of sleep, hankering after pleasure, thoughtlessness, and lack of occupation. Exercise self-control at thy meals, and take upon thyself some duties that will exercise thy abilities and make thee useful to thy fellow-men. In following this advice thou wilt prolong thy life." 2

The rich man remembered the words of the Buddha and after some time having recovered his lightness of body and youthful buoyancy returned to the Worldhonored One and, coming afoot without horses and attendants, said to him: "Master, thou hast cured my bodily ailments; I come now to seek enlightenment of my mind." 3

And the Blessed One said: "The worldling nourishes his body, but the wise man nourishes his mind. He who indulges in the satisfaction of his appetites works his own destruction; but he who walks in the path will have both the salvation from evil and a prolongation of life." 4

LXXI.

THE COMMUNICATION OF BLISS.

Annabhāra, the slave of Sumana, having just cut the grass on the meadow, saw a samana with his bowl begging for food. Throwing down his bundle of grass he ran into the house and returned with the rice that had been provided for his own food. 1

The samana ate the rice and gladdened him with words of religious comfort. 2

The daughter of Sumana having observed the scene from a window called out: "Good! Annabhāra, good! Very good!" 3

Sumana hearing these words inquired what she meant, and on being informed about Annabhāra's devotion and the words of comfort he had received from the samana, went to his slave and offered him money to divide the bliss of his offering. 4

"My lord," said Annabhāra, "let me first ask the venerable man." And approaching the samana, he said: "My master has asked me to share with him the bliss of the offering I made thee of my allowance of rice. Is it right that I should divide it with him?" 5

The samana replied in a parable. He said: "In a village of one hundred houses a single light was burning. Then a neighbor came with his lamp and lit it; and in this same way the light was communicated from house to house and the brightness in the village was increased. Thus the light of religion may be diffused without stinting him who communicates it. Let the bliss of thy offering also be diffused. Divide it." 6

Annabhāra returned to his master's house and said to him: "I present thee, my lord, with a share of the bliss of my offering. Deign to accept it." 7

Sumana accepted it and offered his slave a sum of money, but Annabhāra replied: "Not so, my lord; if I accept thy money it would appear as if I sold thee my share. Bliss cannot be sold; I beg thou wilt accept it as a gift." 8

The master replied: "Brother Annabhāra, from this day forth thou shalt be free. Live with me as my friend and accept this present as a token of my respect." 9

LXXII.

THE LISTLESS FOOL.

There was a rich Brahman, well advanced in years, who, unmindful of the impermanence of earthly things and anticipating a long life, had built himself a large house. 1

The Buddha wondered why a man so near to death had built a mansion with so many apartments, and he sent Ānanda to the rich Brahman to preach to him the four noble truths and the eightfold path of salvation. 2

The Brahman showed Ānanda his house and explained to him the purpose of its numerous chambers, but to the instruction of the Buddha's teachings he gave no heed. 3

Ānanda said: "It is the habit of fools to say, 'I have children and wealth.' He who says so is not even master of himself; how can he claim possession of children, riches, and servants? Many are the anxieties of the worldly, but they know nothing of the changes of the future." 4

Scarcely had Ānanda left, when the old man was stricken with apoplexy and fell dead. The Buddha said, for the instruction of those who were ready to learn: "A fool, though he live in the company of the wise, understands nothing of the true doctrine, as a spoon tastes not the flavor of the soup. He thinks of himself only, and unmindful of the advice of good counsellors is unable to deliver himself." 5

LXXIII.

RESCUE IN THE DESERT.

There was a disciple of the Blessed One, full of energy and zeal for the truth, who, living under a vow to complete a meditation in solitude, flagged in a moment of weakness. He said to himself: "The Teacher said there are several kinds of men; I must belong to the lowest class and fear that in this birth there will be neither path nor fruit for me. What is the use of a forest life if I cannot by my constant endeavor attain the insight of meditation to which I have devoted myself?" And he left the solitude and returned to the Jetavana. 1

When the brethren saw him they said to him: "Thou hast done wrong, O brother, after taking a vow, to give up the attempt of carrying it out;" and they took him to the Master. 2

When the Blessed One saw them he said: "I see, O mendicants, that you have brought this brother here against his will. What has he done?" 3

"Lord, this brother, having taken the vows of so sanctifying a faith, has abandoned the endeavor to accomplish the aim of a member of the order, and has come back to us." 4

Then the Teacher said to him: "Is it true that thou hast given up trying?" 5

"It is true, O Blessed One!" was the reply. 6

The Master said: "This present life of thine is a time of grace. If thou fail now to reach the happy state thou wilt have to suffer remorse in future existences. How is it, brother, that thou hast proved so irresolute? Why, in former states of existence thou wert full of determination. By thy energy alone the men and bullocks of five hundred wagons obtained water in the sandy desert, and were saved. How is it that thou now givest up?" 7

By these few words that brother was re-established in his resolution. But the others besought the Blessed One, saying: "Lord! Tell us how this was." 8

"Listen, then, O mendicants!" said the Blessed One; and having thus excited their attention, he made manifest a thing concealed by change of birth. 9

Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was reigning in Kāsi, the Bodhisatta was born in a merchant's family; and when he grew up, he went about trafficking with five hundred carts. 10

One day he arrived at a sandy desert many leagues across. The sand in that desert was so fine that when taken in the closed fist it could not be kept in the hand. After the sun had risen it became as hot as a mass of burning embers, so that no man could walk on it. Those, therefore, who had to travel over it took wood, and water, and oil, and rice in their carts, and traveled during the night. And at daybreak they formed an encampment and spread an awning over it, and, taking their meals early, they passed the day lying in the shade. At sunset they supped, and when the ground had become cool they yoked their oxen and went on. The traveling was like a voyage over the sea: a desert-pilot had to be chosen, and he brought the caravan safe to the other side by his knowledge of the stars. 11

Thus the merchant of our story traversed the desert. And when he had passed over fifty-nine leagues he thought, "Now, in one more night we shall get out of the sand," and after supper he directed the wagons to be yoked, and so set out. The pilot had cushions arranged on the foremost cart and lay down, looking at the stars and directing the men where to drive. But worn out by want of rest during the long march, he fell asleep, and did not perceive that the oxen had turned round and taken the same road by which they had come. 12

The oxen went on the whole night through. Towards dawn the pilot woke up, and, observing the stars, called out: "Stop the wagons, stop the wagons!" The day broke just as they stopped and were drawing up the carts in a line. Then the men cried out: "Why this is the very encampment we left yesterday! We have but little wood left and our water is all gone! We are lost!" And unyoking the oxen and spreading the canopy over their heads, they lay down in despondency, each one under his wagon. But the Bodhisatta said to himself, "If I lose heart, all these will perish," and walked about while the morning was yet cool. On seeing a tuft of kusa-grass, he thought: "This could have grown only by soaking up some water which must be beneath it." 13

And he made them bring a spade and dig in that spot. And they dug sixty cubits deep. And when they had got thus far, the spade of the diggers struck on a rock; and as soon as it struck, they all gave up in despair. But the Bodhisatta thought, "There must be water under that rock," and descending into the well he got upon the stone, and stooping down applied his ear to it and tested the sound of it. He heard the sound of water gurgling beneath, and when he got out he called his page. "My lad, if thou givest up now, we shall all be lost. Do not lose heart. Take this iron hammer, and go down into the pit, and give the rock a good blow." 14

The lad obeyed, and though they all stood by in despair, he went down full of determination and struck at the stone. The rock split in two and fell below, so that it no longer blocked the stream, and water rose till its depth from the bottom to the brim of the well was equal to the height of a palm-tree. And they all drank of the water, and bathed in it. Then they cooked rice and ate it, and fed their oxen with it. And when the sun set, they put a flag in the well, and went to the place appointed. There they sold their merchandise at a good profit and returned to their home, and when they died they passed away according to their deeds. And the Bodhisatta gave gifts and did other virtuous acts, and he also passed away according to his deeds. 15

After the Teacher had told the story he formed the connection by saying in conclusion, "The caravanleader was the Bodhisatta, the future Buddha; the page who at that time despaired not, but broke the stone, and gave water to the multitude, was this brother without perseverance; and the other men were attendants on the Buddha." 16

LXXIV.

THE SOWER.

Bhāradvāja, a wealthy Brahman farmer, was celebrating his harvest-thanksgiving when the Blessed One came with his alms-bowl, begging for food. 1

Some of the people paid him reverence, but the Brahman was angry and said: "O samana, it would be more fitting for thee to go to work than to beg. I plough and sow, and having ploughed and sown, I eat. If thou didst likewise, thou, too, wouldst have something to eat." 2

The Tathāgata answered him and said: "O Brahman, I, too, plough and sow, and having ploughed and sown, I eat." 3

"Dost thou profess to be a husbandman?" replied the Brahman. "Where, then, are thy bullocks? Where is the seed and the plough?" 4

The Blessed One said: "Faith is the seed I sow: good works are the rain that fertilizes it; wisdom and modesty are the plough; my mind is the guiding-rein; I lay hold of the handle of the law; earnestness is the goad I use, and exertion is my draught-ox. This ploughing is ploughed to destroy the weeds of illusion. The harvest it yields is the immortal fruit of Nirvāna, and thus all sorrow ends." 5

Then the Brahman poured rice-milk into a golden bowl and offered it to the Blessed One, saying: "Let the Teacher of mankind partake of the rice-milk, for the venerable Gotama ploughs a ploughing that bears the fruit of immortality." 6

LXXV.

THE OUTCAST.

When Bhagavat dwelt at Sāvatthi in the Jetavana, he went out with his alms-bowl to beg for food and approached the house of a Brahman priest while the fire of an offering was blazing upon the altar. And the priest said: "Stay there, O shaveling; stay there, O wretched samana; thou art an outcast." 1

The Blessed One replied: "Who is an outcast? 2

"An outcast is the man who is angry and bears hatred; the man who is wicked and hypocritical, he who embraces error and is full of deceit. 3

"Whosoever is a provoker and is avaricious, has evil desires, is envious, wicked, shameless, and without fear to commit wrong, let him be known as an outcast. 4

"Not by birth does one become an outcast, not by birth does one become a Brahman; by deeds one becomes an outcast, by deeds one becomes a Brahman." 5

LXXVI.

THE WOMAN AT THE WELL.

Ānanda, the favorite disciple of the Buddha, having been sent by the Lord on a mission, passed by a well near a village, and seeing Pakati, a girl of the Mātanga caste, he asked her for water to drink. 1

Pakati said: "O Brahman, I am too humble and mean to give thee water to drink, do not ask any service of me lest thy holiness be contaminated, for I am of low caste." 2

And Ānanda replied: "I ask not for caste but for water;" and the Mātanga girl's heart leaped joyfully and she gave Ānanda to drink. 3

Ānanda thanked her and went away; but she followed him at a distance. 4

Having heard that Ānanda was a disciple of Gotama Sakyamuni, the girl repaired to the Blessed One and cried: "O Lord help me, and let me live in the place where Ānanda thy disciple dwells, so that I may see him and minister unto him, for I love Ānanda." 5

And the Blessed One understood the emotions of her heart and he said: "Pakati, thy heart is full of love, but thou understandest not thine own sentiments. It is not Ānanda that thou lovest, but his kindness. Accept, then, the kindness thou hast seen him practise unto thee, and in the humility of thy station practise it unto others. 6

"Verily there is great merit in the generosity of a king when he is land to a slave; but there is a greater merit in the slave when he ignores the wrongs which he suffers and cherishes kindness and good-will to all mankind. He will cease to hate his oppressors, and even when powerless to resist their usurpation will with compassion pity their arrogance and supercilious demeanor. 7

"Blessed art thou, Pakati, for though thou art a Mātanga thou wilt be a model for noblemen and noblewomen. Thou art of low caste, but Brahmans may learn a lesson from thee. Swerve not from the path of justice and righteousness and thou wilt outshine the royal glory of: queens on the throne." 8

LXXVII.

THE PEACEMAKER.

It is reported that two kingdoms were on the verge of war for the possession of a certain embankment which was disputed by them. 1

And the Buddha seeing the kings and their armies ready to fight, requested them to tell him the cause of their quarrels. Having heard the complaints on both sides, he said: 2

"I understand that the embankment has value for some of your people; has it any intrinsic value aside from its service to your men?" 3

"It has no intrinsic value whatever," was the reply. The Tathāgata continued: "Now when you go to battle is it not sure that many of your men will be slain and that you yourselves, O kings, are liable to lose your lives?" 4

And they said: "Verily, it is sure that many will be slain and our own lives be jeopardized." 5