The Gâtakamâlâ E-Book

Aryasura

• Herausgeber: Classic eBooks
• Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017

Beschreibung

"The Gâtakamâlâ" is a work well known to students of Buddhism.
The Buddha, in telling these stories of his former births or existences, speaks of himself, not exactly as the same individual, but rather as the enlightened one, the Buddha as he existed at any and at every time; and from a moral point of view, the enlightened meant the good, the perfect man.
Those lessons seem certainly to have impressed his hearers, after they once believed that what they had to suffer here on earth was not the result of mere chance, but the result of their own former deeds or of the deeds of their fellow-creatures, that they were in fact paying off a debt which they had contracted long ago. It was an equally impressive lesson that whatever good they might do on earth would be placed to their account in a future life, because the whole world was one large system in which nothing could ever be lost, though many of the links of the chain of cause and effect might escape human observation or recollection.
This class of stories is peculiar to Buddhism; for although the idea that every man had passed through many existences before his birth on earth and will pass through many more after his death.

Prof. Speyer has given us an English translation in this volume. The edition of the Sanskrit text by Prof. Kern is not only an editio princeps, but the text as restored by him will probably remain the final text, and Prof. Speyer in translating has had but seldom to depart from it.

Leseprobe

The Gâtakamâlâ

Garland of Birth-Stories

Aryasura

Translator: Jacob Samuel Speyer

Editor: Friedrich Max Müller

The Gâtakamâlâ Garland of Birth-Stories Author: Aryasura Editor: Friedrich Max Müller, (1823-1900) Translator: Jacob Samuel Speyer, (1849-1913) First edition: London, OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS WAREHOUSE, AMEN CORNER, E.C., 1895Cover art: “plumeria flower”, freeimages.com-Bert Grantges-1543662ISBN: 

EDITOR'S PREFACE.

After all the necessary preparations for the first and second series of the Sacred Books of the East, consisting in all of forty-nine volumes, with two volumes of General Index, had been completed, I still received several offers of translations of important texts which I felt reluctant to leave unpublished. As they were chiefly translations of Buddhist texts, I mentioned the fact to several of my Buddhist friends, and I was highly gratified when I was informed that H. M. the King of Siam, being desirous that the true teaching of the Buddha should become more widely known in Europe, had been graciously pleased to promise that material support without which the publication of these translations would have been impossible.

I therefore resolved to do what I could for helping to spread a more correct knowledge of the religion of Buddha: but after the first three volumes of this new Series of the Sacred Books of the Buddhists is published, it will mainly depend on the interest which the public may take in this work, whether it can be continued or not.

As long as my health allows me to do so I shall be quite willing to continue what has been a labour of love to me during many years of my life. It was not always an easy task. The constant correspondence with my fellow-workers has taxed my time and my strength far more than I expected. The difficulty was not only to select from the very large mass of Sacred Books those that seemed most important and most likely to be useful for enabling us to gain a correct view of the great religions of the East, but to find scholars competent and willing to undertake the labour of translation. I can perfectly understand the unwillingness of most scholars to devote their time to mere translations. With every year the translation of such works as the Veda or the Avesta, instead of becoming easier, becomes really more perplexing and more difficult. Difficulties of which we formerly had no suspicion have been brought to light by the ever-increasing number of fresh students, and precautions have now to be taken against dangers the very existence of which was never dreamt of in former years. I do not exaggerate when I say that the translation of some of the hymns of the Veda, often clearly corrupt in the original, has become as difficult as the deciphering of hieroglyphic or cuneiform inscriptions, where at all events the text may be depended on. What critical scholars like is to translate a verse here and a verse there, possibly a hymn or a whole chapter with various readings, critical notes and brilliant conjectures; but to translate a whole book without shirking a single line is a task from which most of them recoil. Nor have the labours of those who have hitherto ventured on a more complete translation of the Rig-veda, such as Wilson, Grassmann, Ludwig and Griffith, been received as they ought to have been, with gratitude for what they have achieved, and with allowances for what they failed to achieve. I therefore remarked in the Preface to the first volume of this collection, p. xlii:

'Oriental scholars have been blamed for not having as yet supplied a want so generally felt, and so frequently expressed, as a complete, trustworthy, and readable translation of the principal Sacred Books of the Eastern Religions. The reasons, however, why hitherto they have shrunk from such an undertaking are clear enough. The difficulties in many cases of giving complete translations, and not selections only, are very great. There is still much work to be done for a critical restoration of the original texts, for an examination of their grammar and metres, and for determining the exact meaning of many words and passages. That kind of work is naturally far more attractive to scholars than a mere translation, particularly when they cannot but feel that, with the progress of our knowledge, many a passage which now seems clear and easy, may, on being re-examined, assume a new import. Thus while scholars who would be most competent to undertake a translation prefer to devote their time to more special researches, the work of a complete translation is deferred to the future, and historians are left under the impression that Oriental scholarship is still in so unsatisfactory a state as to make any reliance on translations of the Veda, the Avesta, or the Tâo-te king extremely hazardous.

'It is clear, therefore, that a translation of the principal Sacred Books of the East can be carried out only at a certain sacrifice. Scholars must leave for a time their own special researches in order to render the general results already obtained accessible to the public at large. And even then, useful results can be achieved viribus unitis only.'

My expectations, however, have not been deceived. My appeal was most generously responded to by the best Oriental scholars in England, France, Germany, Holland and America. Nor have these scholars, who were not afraid to come forward with translations which they knew to be far from final, had to regret their courage and their public spirit. The most competent judges have accepted what we had to offer in a grateful and indulgent spirit. There has only been one painful exception in the case of a scholar who has himself never ventured on the translation of a sacred text, and who seems to have imagined that he could render more useful service by finding fault with the translation of certain words and passages, or by suggesting an entirely different and, in his eyes, a far more excellent method of translation. All scholars know how easy it is to glean a few straws, and how laborious to mow a whole field. There are passages in every one of the Sacred Books, even in such carefully edited texts as the Old and New Testaments, on which interpreters will always differ; and we know how, after centuries of constant labour bestowed on those texts, the most learned and careful scholars have not been able to agree, or to avoid oversights in their Revised Version of the Bible. Could we expect anything different in the first attempts at translating the Sacred Books of other religions? Valuable emendations, offered in a scholarlike spirit, would have been most gratefully accepted by myself and by my fellow-workers. But seldom, nay hardly ever, have emendations been proposed that would essentially alter the textus receptus or throw new light on really obscure passages, while the offensive tone adopted by our critic made it impossible to answer him. As he is no longer among the living, I shall say no more. I feel bound, however, for the sake of those who do not know me, to correct one remark, as invidious as it was groundless, made by the same departed scholar, namely that I had received an excessive honorarium as Editor of the Sacred Books of the East, nay, as he expressed it, that I had levied tribute of my fellow-workers. The fact is that during all the years which I devoted to the superintending of the publication of the fifty volumes of the Sacred Books of the East, I have not had the smallest addition to my income. I was relieved by the University of Oxford from the duty of delivering my public lectures, so that I might devote my time to this large literary undertaking brought out by our University Press. My labour, even the mere official correspondence with my many contributors, was certainly not less than that of delivering lectures which I had been in the habit of delivering for twenty-five years. My private lectures were continued all the same, and the publications of my pupils are there to show how ungrudgingly I gave them my time and my assistance in their literary labours. It is difficult to see of what interest such matters can be to other people, or with what object they are dragged before the public. I should have felt ashamed to notice such an accusation, if the accuser had not been a man whose scholarship deserved respect. I have never claimed any credit for the sacrifices which I have made both in time and in money, for objects which were near and dear to my heart. It has been, as I said, a labour of love, and I shall always feel most grateful to the University of Oxford, and to my fellow-translators, for having enabled me to realise this long cherished plan of making the world better acquainted with the Sacred Books of the principal religions of mankind, a work which has borne fruit already, and will, I hope, bear still richer fruit in the future.

If the members of the principal religions of the world wish to understand one another, to bear with one another, and possibly to recognise certain great truths which, without being aware of it, they share in common with one another, the only solid and sound foundation for such a religious peace-movement will be supplied by a study of the Sacred Books of each religion.

One such religious Peace-Congress has been held already in America. Preparations for another are now being made; and it is certainly a sign of the times when we see Cardinal Gibbons, after conferring with Pope Leo XIII at Rome, assuring those who are organising this new Congress: 'The Pope will be with you, I know it. Write, agitate, and do not be timid(1).'

The Gâtakamâlâ, of which Prof. Speyer has given us an English translation in this volume, is a work well known to students of Buddhism. The edition of the Sanskrit text by Prof. Kern is not only an editio princeps, but the text as restored by him will probably remain the final text, and Prof. Speyer in translating has had but seldom to depart from it.

Gâtaka has generally been translated by Birth-story or Tale of Anterior Births, and it would be difficult to find a better rendering. This class of stories is peculiar to Buddhism; for although the idea that every man had passed through many existences before his birth on earth and will pass through many more after his death was, like most Buddhist theories, borrowed from the Brâhmans, yet its employment for teaching the great lessons of morality seems to have been the work of Buddha and his pupils. In addition to this there was another theory, likewise Brahmanic in its origin, but again more fully developed for practical purposes by the Buddhists, that of Karma, a firm belief that an unbroken chain of cause and effect binds all existences together. The great problems of the justice of the government of the world, of the earthly sufferings of the innocent, and the apparent happiness of the wicked, were to the Indian mind solved once for all by the firm conviction that what we experience here is the result of something that has happened before, that there is an unbroken heredity in the world, and that we not only benefit by, but also suffer from our ancestors. In order fully to understand the drift of the Gâtakas we must, however, bear in mind one more article of the Buddhist faith, namely that, though ordinary mortals remember nothing of their former existences beyond the fact that they did exist, which is involved in the very fact of their self-consciousness, highly enlightened beings have the gift of recalling their former vicissitudes. It is well known that Pythagoras claimed the same gift of remembering his former lives, or at all events is reported to have claimed it. A Buddha is supposed to know whatever has happened to him in every existence through which he has passed: and it seems to have been the constant habit of the historical Buddha, Buddha Sâkya-muni, to explain to his disciples things that were happening by things that had happened countless ages before. Those lessons seem certainly to have impressed his hearers, after they once believed that what they had to suffer here on earth was not the result of mere chance, but the result of their own former deeds or of the deeds of their fellow-creatures, that they were in fact paying off a debt which they had contracted long ago. It was an equally impressive lesson that whatever good they might do on earth would be placed to their account in a future life, because the whole world was one large system in which nothing could ever be lost, though many of the links of the chain of cause and effect might escape human observation or recollection.

The Buddha, in telling these stories of his former births or existences, speaks of himself, not exactly as the same individual, but rather as the enlightened one, the Buddha as he existed at any and at every time; and from a moral point of view, the enlightened meant the good, the perfect man. We must not suppose that his hearers were expected to believe, in our sense of the word, all the circumstances of his former existences as told by Buddha Sâkya-muni. Even for an Indian imagination it would have been hard to accept them as matters of fact. A Gâtaka was not much more than what a parable is with us, and as little as Christians are expected to accept the story of Lazarus resting in Abraham's bosom as a matter of fact (though, I believe, the house of Dives is shown at Jerusalem) were the Buddhists bound to believe that Buddha as an individual or as an historical person, had formerly been a crow or a hare. The views of the Buddhists on the world and its temporary tenants, whether men, animals, or trees, are totally different from our own, though we know how even among ourselves the theories of heredity have led some philosophers to hold that we, or our ancestors, existed at one time in an animal, and why not in a vegetable or mineral state. It is difficult for us to enter fully into the Buddhist views of the world; I would only warn my readers that they must not imagine that highly educated men among the Buddhists were so silly as to accept the Gâtakas as ancient history.

It would be more correct, I believe, to look upon these Birth-stories as homilies used for educational purposes and for inculcating the moral lessons of Buddhism. This is clearly implied in the remarks at the end of certain Gâtakas, such as 'This story is also to be used when discoursing on the Buddha', or 'This story may be used with the object of showing the difficulty of finding companions for a religious life'. We know that Christian divines also made use of popular stories for similar purposes. In India many of these stories must have existed long before the rise of Buddhism, as they exist even now, in the memory of the people. It is known how some of them reached Greece and Rome and the Western world through various well-ascertained channels(2), and how they still supply our nurseries with the earliest lessons of morality, good sense, and good manners.

It may be said that the lessons of morality inculcated in these homilies are too exaggerated to be of any practical usefulness. Still this modus docendi is very common in Sacred Books, where we often find an extreme standard held up in the hope of producing an impression that may be useful in less extreme cases. To offer the other cheek to whosoever shall strike our right cheek, to give up our cloak to him who takes away our coat, to declare that it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God, are all lessons which we also take cum grano salis. They ask for much in the hope that something may be given. That there is danger too in this mode of teaching cannot be denied. We are told that Ârya Sûra, in order to follow the example of Buddha in a former birth, threw himself in this life before a starving tigress to be devoured. Let us hope that this too was only a Gâtaka.

When once a taste for these moralising stories had arisen, probably owing to Buddha's daily intercourse with the common people, their number grew most rapidly. The supply was unlimited, all that was required was the moral application, the Haec fabula docet. The Buddhists give their number as 550. The earliest are probably those which are found in different parts of the Buddhist Canon. In the Kariyâ-pitaka there is a collection of thirty-five stories of the former lives of Buddha, in each of which he acquired one of the ten Pâramitâs or Great Perfections which fit a human being for Buddhahood(3). A similar collection is found in the Buddhavamsa(4), which contains an account of the life of the coming Buddha, the Bodhisat, in the various characters which he filled during the periods of the twenty-four previous Buddhas.

The Gâtaka stories are therefore at least as old as the compilation of the Buddhist Canon at the Council of Vesâli, about 377 b.c.(5) It was at that Council that the great schism took place, and that the ancient Canon was rearranged or disarranged. Among the books thus tampered with is mentioned the Gâtaka, which therefore must be considered as having existed, and formed part of the old Canon before the Council of Vesâli. This is what the Dîpavamsa (V, 32) says on the subject:

'The Bhikkhus of the Great Council settled a doctrine contrary (to the true Faith). Altering the original text they made another text. They transposed Suttas which belonged to one place (of the collection) to another place; they destroyed the true meaning of the Faith, in the Vinaya and in the five collections (of the Suttas).... Rejecting single passages of the Suttas and of the proposed Vinaya, they composed other Suttas and another Vinaya which had (only) the appearance (of the genuine ones). Rejecting the following texts, viz. the Parivâra, which is the abstract of the contents (of the Vinaya), the six sections of the Abhidhamma, the Patisambhidâ, the Niddesa, and some portions of the Gâtaka, they composed new ones.'

Whatever else this may prove with regard to the way in which the ancient Canon was preserved, it shows at all events that Gâtakas existed before the Vesâli Council as an integral portion of the sacred Canon, and we learn at the same time that it was possible even then to compose new chapters of that canon, and probably also to add new Gâtaka stories.

Whether we possess the text of the Gâtaka in exactly that form in which it existed previous to the Council of Vesâli in 377 b.c. is another question. Strictly speaking we must be satisfied with the time of Vattagâmani in whose reign, 88-76 b.c., writing for literary purposes seems to have become more general in India, and the Buddhist Canon was for the first time reduced to writing.

What we possess is the Pâli text of the Gâtaka as it has been preserved in Ceylon. The tradition is that these 550 Gâtaka stories, composed in Pâli, were taken to Ceylon by Mahinda, about 250 b.c., that the commentary was there translated into Singhalese, and that the commentary was retranslated into Pâli by Buddhaghosha, in the fifth century A.D. It is in this commentary alone that the text of the Gâtakas has come down to us. This text has been edited by Dr. Fausböll. He has distinguished in his edition between three component elements, the tale, the frame, and the verbal interpretation. This text, of which the beginning was translated in 1880 by Prof. Rhys Davids, is now being translated by Mr. R. Chalmers, Mr. W. R. D. Rouse, Mr. H. T. Francis and Mr. R. A. Neil, and the first volume of their translation has appeared in 1895 under the able editorship of Professor Cowell.

As Professor Speyer has explained, the Gâtakamâlâ, the Garland of Birth-stories, which he has translated, is a totally different work. It is a Sanskrit rendering of only thirty-four Gâtakas ascribed to Ârya Sûra. While the Pâli Gâtaka is written in the plainest prose style, the work of Ârya Sûra has higher pretensions, and is in fact a kind of kâvya, a work of art. It was used by the Northern Buddhists, while the Pâli Gâtaka belongs to the Canon of the Southern Buddhists. The date of Ârya Sûra is difficult to fix. Târanâtha (p. 90) states that Sûra was known by many names, such as Asvaghosha, Mâtriketa, Pitriketa, Durdarsha (sic), Dharmika-subhûti, Matikitra. He also states that towards the end of his life Sûra, was in correspondence with king Kanika (Kanishka?), and that he began to write the hundred Gâtakas illustrating Buddha's acquirement of the ten Pâramitâs (see p. xiv), but died when he had finished only thirty-four. It is certainly curious that our Gâtakamâlâ contains thirty-four Gâtakas(6). If therefore we could rely on Târanâtha, Ârya Sûra, being identical with Asvaghosha, the author of the Buddhakarita, would have lived in the first century of our era. He is mentioned as a great authority on metres (Târanâtha, p. 181), and he certainly handles his metres with great skill. But dates are always the weak point in the history of Indian Literature. Possibly the study of Tibetan Literature, and a knowledge of the authorities on which Târanâtha relied, may throw more light hereafter on the date of Sûra and Asvaghosha.

F. Max Müller.

Oxford, October, 1895.

INTRODUCTION

The 'Garland of Birth-stories' belongs to the Canon of the Northern Buddhists. For the discovery of this work we are indebted to Mr. Brian H. Hodgson, who as early as 1828 mentioned it among the interesting specimens of Bauddha scriptures communicated to him by his old Patan monk, and also procured copies of it. One of these was deposited in the library of the college of Fort William, now belonging to the Bengal Asiatic Society, and was described, in 1882, by Râgendralâla Mitra. Another was forwarded to the Paris library. Burnouf, who thoroughly studied other works belonging to the Sûtra and Avadâna classes, which form part of the Hodgson MSS. in Paris, seems to have had a merely superficial acquaintance with the Gâtakamâlâ, if we may judge from the terms with which he deals with it in his 'Introduction à l'histoire du Bouddhisme indien.' p. 54 of the second edition: 'Je dis les livres, quoiqu'il n'en existe qu'un seul dans la liste népalaise et dans la collection de M. Hodgson, qui porte et qui mérite le titre de Djâtaka (naissance); c'est le volume intitulé Djâtakamâlâ ou la Guirlande des naissances, qui passe pour(7) un récit des diverses actions méritoires de Çâkya antérieurement à l'époque où il devint Buddha.' In fact, he has never given a summary, still less a detailed account of its contents. It was not until 1875 that M. Féer gave such an account in the Journal Asiatique, VIIe Sér., t. 5, p. 413.

Moreover, Burnouf's statement is not quite correct with respect to the Nepal list. Not one, but three Gâtaka works are named there(8), the Gâtakâvadâna (No. 32), the Gâtakamâlâ (No. 33), and the Mahâgâtakamâlâ (No. 34). Of these only one, indeed, is extant, viz. No. 33, our 'Garland of Birth-stories.' No. 34 may be the work, containing 550 or 565 Gâtakas, spoken of by the Bauddha monk who imparted so much valuable information to Hodgson(9), or, perhaps, the original of the Tibetan collection of 101 tales, including also our Gâtakamâlâ, to which two Russian scholars, Serge d'Oldenburg and Ivanovski, have of late drawn the attention of the public(10). As to No. 32, its title, Gâtakâvadâna, allows the supposition that it is either a collection of Gâtakas and avadânas, or that it contains 'great religious exploits' (avadâna) performed by the Bodhisattva, who afterwards became Buddha, the Lord. Nothing is more common than the use of both terms in a nearly synonymous manner. Our Gâtakamâlâ bears also the appellation of Bodhisattvâvadânamâlâ(11). In translating Gâtaka by 'birth-story,' I comply with the general use and official interpretation of that term by the Buddhist Church. The original meaning must have been simply 'tale, story,' as Prof. Kern has demonstrated in his 'History of Buddhism in India(12).' Additional evidence of this statement may be drawn from the fact, that in several of the old and traditional headings of these stories the former part of the compound denotes not the Bodhisattva, but some other person of the tale, as Vyâghrîgâtaka, 'the Story of the Tigress,' or a thing, as Kumbhagâtaka, 'the Story of the Jar;' Bisagâtaka, 'the Story of the Lotus-stalks,' which are respectively Nos. I, XVII, and XIX of this collection; or an action, as Sîlavîmamsa(ka)gâtaka, the common heading of Nos. 86, 290, 305, and 330 in Fausböll's Pâli Gâtaka, Nakkagâtaka, ibid., No. 32, or a quality, as Sîlânisamsagâtaka, ibid., No. 190.

Some time after M. Féer's compte-rendu of the Paris MS. was published two new MSS. of the Gâtakamâlâ came to Europe. They belong to the valuable set of Sanskrit Buddhist works which Dr. Wright acquired for the Cambridge University Library, and are described by Prof. Cecil Bendall in his excellent Catalogue (1883). Prof. Kern was the first to appreciate the great literary merits of the Gâtakamâlâ, and soon planned an edition, availing himself of the two Cambridge MSS. (Add. 1328 and 1415) and the Paris one(13). This editio princeps was published at the end of 1891 as the first volume of the Harvard Oriental Series of Prof. Lanman. It has every right to bear the name of 'princeps,' not only because Ârya Sûra's work has never been edited before, but on account of the critical acumen and the untiring care of the editor, whose exertions have almost purged the text from the clerical errors and blunders which greatly encumber the Nepal manuscripts(14). Thus, thanks to Prof. Kern, this masterpiece of Sanskrit Buddhist literature is now accessible to Sanskritists in an excellent edition. I have undertaken to translate it, as I consider it a most valuable document for the knowledge of Buddhism.

Properly speaking, Gâtakamâlâ is a class-name. It has been pointed out above that in the Northern Buddhist Canon several writings of that name have been made known, and though, so far as I know, this appellation does not occur in the book-titles of the Pâli Tripitaka, such texts as the Pâli Gâtaka and the Kariyâpitaka may have some right to be thus designated. That it is a generic appellation is made plain from Somendra's Introduction to the Avadânakalpalatâ of his father Kshemendra. It is said there, verses 7 and 8:—

'âkâryaGopadattâdyair avadânakramogghitâh

ukkityokkitya vihitâ gadyapadyavisriṅkhalâh,

ekamârgânusârinyah param gâmbhîryakarkasâh

vistîrnavarnanâh santi Ginagâtakamâlikâh.'

'There exist many "Garlands of Birth-stories of the Gina" by Gopadatta and other teachers, who, discarding the usual order of the Avadânas, gathered tales carptim, and told them at length in elaborate prose (gadya) interspersed with verse, holding themselves free as to the proportions of the two styles, which they made interchange. They all treat of the praise of the Right Path, but, owing to their profoundness, are hard to understand.'

This definition of that class exactly suits the work, the translation of which is here published. This composition consists, indeed, of verse intermingled with flowery prose built up according to the rules and methods of Sanskrit rhetoric; it claims to be a florilegium, a selection of Gâtakas, with the avowed object of rousing or invigorating the true faith in the minds of the reader; and the stories are told at length. It has perhaps been the most perfect writing of its kind. It is distinguished no less by the superiority of its style than by the loftiness of its thoughts. Its verses and artful prose are written in the purest Sanskrit(15), and charm the reader by the elegance of their form and the skill displayed in the handling of a great variety of metres, some of which are rarely to be met with elsewhere(16), and are sometimes adorned with the additional qualities of difficult and refined rhymes, and the like. Apparently Sûra, to whom the Gâtakamâlâ is ascribed, was a poet richly gifted by Nature, whose talent must have been developed by thorough and extensive literary studies. Above all, I admire his moderation. Unlike so many other Indian masters in the art of literary composition, he does not allow himself the use of embellishing apparel and the whole luxuriant mise en scène of Sanskrit alamkâra beyond what is necessary for his subject. His flowery descriptions, his long and elaborate sermons, his elegant manner of narration, are always in harmony with the scheme of the whole or the nature of the contents. Similarly, in the choice of his metres he was guided by stylistic motives in accordance with the tone and sentiment required at a given point of the narrative. It is a pity that most of these excellencies are lost in the translation.

Thus much for the philologist and the lover of Oriental literature. To the student of Buddhism it is the peculiar character of the Gâtakamâlâ which constitutes its great importance. Although it is styled 'a garland of stories,' it is really a collection of homilies. Each Gâtaka is introduced by a simple prose sentence of ethical and religious purport, which is to be illustrated by the story. The whole treatment of the tale bears the character of a religious discourse. Prof. Cowell, in his preface to the translation of the Pâli Gâtaka, observes that the Gâtaka-legends are 'continually introduced into the religious discourses ... whether to magnify the glory of the Buddha or to illustrate Buddhist doctrines and precepts by appropriate examples(17).' Our Gâtakamâlâ has a right to be called a choice collection of such sermons, distinguished by their lofty conception and their artistic elaboration. It is a document of the first rank for the study of ancient Buddhist homiletics, and is for this reason entitled to a place among the Sacred Books of the East.

Sûra took his thirty-four holy legends from the old and traditional store of Gâtaka-tales. Almost all of them have been identified with corresponding ones in other collections, both of Northern and Southern Buddhism. So far as I could control those parallels or add to them, I have taken care to notice them at the beginning or at the end of each story. The author himself in his introductory stanzas declares his strict conformity with scripture and tradition; and, however much he has done for the adornment and embellishment of the outer form of his tales, we may trust him, when he implies that he has nowhere changed their outlines or their essential features, but has narrated them as they were handed down to him by writing or by oral tradition. Wherever his account differs from that preserved in other sources, we may infer that he followed some different version. Sometimes he passes over details of minor importance. For instance, in the second story he avoids the hideous particulars of the eye-operation, dwelt upon in the Pâli Gâtaka. The same good taste will be appreciated in Story XXVIII, when the cruel act of the wicked king against the monk Kshântivâdin has to be told, and in Story VIII. Stories XVII, XXII, XXXI are much simpler than their parallels in the holy Pâli book, which are unwieldy, encumbered as they are by exuberance of details. I cannot help thinking that Sûra omitted such particulars purposely. For the rest, he does not pretend to tell stories new or unknown to his readers. He acknowledges their popularity; he puts the story of the tigress at the beginning, in order to honour his teacher, who had celebrated that Gâtaka. He often neglects to give proper names to the actors in his tales. For instance, of Agastya, Ayogriha, Kuddabodhi, the heroes of the Gâtakas thus named, it is nowhere said that they were so called. Gûgaka, the Brâhman who begged the children from Visvantara, consequently a well-known figure in the legend, is only named 'a Brâhman.' In the same story (IX) Madrî, the wife of the hero, is introduced as a well-known person, although her name had not been mentioned before.

That he closely adheres to the traditional stock of legends is also shown by a good number of his verses. Generally speaking, the metrical part of the Gâtakamâlâ admits of a fourfold division. There are laudatory verses, praising and pointing out the virtues of the hero; these are commonly found in the first part or preamble of the tale. There are descriptive verses, containing pictures of fine scenery or of phenomena. Further, there are religious discourses, sometimes of considerable length, put in the mouth of the Bodhisattva; they have their place mostly at the end(18). The rest consists in verses treating of facts in the story, and it is chiefly there that we find again the gâthâs of the corresponding Pâli Gâtakas. It is incontestable that in a great many cases Sûra worked on the same or a very similar stock of gâthâs as are contained in the Sacred Canon of the Southern Buddhists. For the sake of reference I have registered those parallel verses in a Synoptical Table, which is placed at the end of this book (pp. 337-340). Sometimes the affinity is so striking that one text will assist the interpretation and critical restitution of the other. Sûra's stanza, V, 11, for example, has not been invented by the author himself; it is a refined paraphrase in Sanskrit of some Prâkrit gâthâ of exactly the same purport as that which in Fausböll's Gâtaka III, p. 131, bears the number 158. By comparing pâda c in both, it is plain that in the Pâli text no ought to be read instead of vo(19). It must have been sacred texts in some popular dialect, not in Sanskrit, that underly the elaborate and high-flown verses of Sûra. This is proved, among other things, by the mistake in XIX, 17, pointed out by Prof. Kern in the Various Readings he has appended to his edition.

As I have already remarked, each story is introduced by a leading sentence, expressing some religious maxim, which, according to Indian usage, is repeated again at the end as a conclusion to the story, being preceded by evam or tathâ, 'in this manner.' But, as a rule(20), the epilogues are not limited to that simple repetition. They often contain more, the practical usefulness of the story thus told being enhanced by the addition of other moral lessons, which may be illustrated by it, or by pointing out different subjects of religious discourses, in connection with which our tale may be of use. Most of these epilogues, in my opinion, are posterior to Sûra. Apart from the argument offered by some remarkable discrepancies in style and language and the monkish spirit pervading them, I think it highly improbable that, after the author had put at the head and at the end of each Gâtaka the moral maxim he desires to inculcate upon the minds of his readers by means of the account of a certain marvellous deed of the Bodhisattva, he should himself add different indications for other employments to serve homiletical purposes. It is more likely that these accessories are of later origin, and were added when the discourses of Sûra had gained so great a reputation as to be admitted to the Canon of Sacred Writings, and had come to be employed by the monks as a store of holy and edifying sermons for the purposes of religious instruction.

On account of these considerations, I have bracketed in my translation such part of the epilogues as seemed to me later interpolations. Yet I did not think it advisable to omit them. They are not without importance in themselves. They allow us an insight into the interior of the monasteries and to witness the monks preparing for preaching. Moreover, some of them contain precious information about holy texts of the Northern Buddhists, which are either lost or have not yet been discovered. In the epilogue of VIII there is even a textual quotation; likewise in that of XXX, where we find the words spoken by the Lord at the time of his Complete Extinction. As to XI, see my note on that epilogue. In XII and XXI similar sayings of holy books are hinted at.

Concerning the person of the author and his time, nothing certain is known. That he was called Ârya Sûra is told in the manuscripts, and is corroborated by Chinese tradition; the Chinese translation of the Gâtakamâlâ, made between 960 and 1127 A.D., bears Ârya Sûra on its title as the author's name (see Bunyiu Nanjio's Catalogue, No. 1312). Tibetan tradition, too, knows Sûra as a famous teacher, and as the author of our collection of stories. Târanâtha identifies him with Asvaghosha, and adds many more names by which the same great man should be known. It is, however, impossible that two works so entirely different in style and spirit as the Buddhakarita and the Gâtakamâlâ should be ascribed to one and the same author.

As to his time, Dr. d'Oldenburg observes that the terminus ante quem is the end of the 7th century A.D., since it seems that the Chinese traveller I-tsing speaks of our 'Garland of Birth-stories.' If No. 1349 of Bunyiu Nanjio's Catalogue of the Chinese Tripitaka, being a Sûtra on the fruits of Karma briefly explained by Ârya Sûra, is written by our author—and there seems to be no reasonable objection to this—Sûra must have lived before 434 A.D., when the latter work is said to have been translated into Chinese. This conclusion is supported by the purity and elegance of the language, which necessarily point to a period of a high standard of literary taste and a flourishing state of letters. Prof. Kern was induced by this reason to place Sûra approximately in the century of Kâlidâsa and Varâhamihira, but equally favourable circumstances may be supposed to have existed a couple of centuries earlier. I think, however, he is posterior to the author of the Buddhakarita. For other questions concerning the Gâtakamâlâ, which it would be too long to dwell upon here, I refer to Prof. Kern's preface and d'Oldenburg in Journ. Roy. As. Soc. 1893, pp. 306-309.

Târanâtha, the historian of Tibetan Buddhism, has preserved a legend which shows the high esteem in which the Gâtakamâlâ stands with the followers of the Buddha's Law. 'Pondering on the Bodhisattva's gift of his own body to the tigress, he [viz. Sûra] thought he could do the same, as it was not so very difficult. Once he, as in the tale, saw a tigress followed by her young, near starvation; at first he could not resolve on the self-sacrifice, but, calling forth a stronger faith in the Buddha, and writing with his own blood a prayer of seventy Slokas, he first gave the tigers his blood to drink, and, when their bodies had taken a little force, offered himself(21).' In this legend I recognise the sediment, so to speak, of the stream of emotion caused by the stimulating eloquence of that gifted Mahâyânist preacher on the minds of his co-religionists. Any one who could compose discourses such as these must have been capable of himself performing the extraordinary exploits of a Bodhisattva. In fact, something of the religious enthusiasm of those ancient apostles of the Mahâyâna who brought the Saddharma to China and Tibet pervades the work of Sûra, and it is not difficult to understand that in the memory of posterity he should have been represented as a saint who professed the ethics of his religion, non disputandi causa, as Cicero says of Cato, ut magna pars, sed ita vivendi.

It was no easy task to translate a work of so refined a composition, still less because there is no help to be had from any commentary. The Sanskrit text has none, and the Chinese commentary mentioned by Bunyiu Nanjio is not translated. Repeated and careful study of the original has led me to change a few passages of the translation I formerly published in the Bijdragen voor Taal-Land-en Volkenkunde van Ned. Indië, vols. viii and x of the fifth 'Volgreeks.' Moreover, I have adapted this, which may almost be styled a second edition, to the wants and the arrangements of the 'Sacred Books of the East.'

J. S. Speyer.

Groningen, April 16, 1895.

Introductory Stanzas.

Om! Adoration to all Buddhas and Bodhisattvas!

1(22). Grand and glorious, of inexhaustible praise and charm, comprising excellent virtues and thereby auspicious, are the wonderful exploits which the Muni performed in previous births. Them will I devoutly worship with the handful of flowers of my poem.

2, 3. 'By those praiseworthy deeds the way is taught that is leading to Buddhahood; they are the landmarks on that way. Further even the hard-hearted may be softened by them. The holy stories may also obtain a greater attractiveness.' So I considered, and for the benefit of men the attempt will be made to find a favourable audience for my own genius, by treating of the extraordinary facts of the Highest One in the world in a manner which is in accordance with the course of facts as recorded by Scripture and Tradition.

4. Him, whose beautiful practice of virtues, while acting for the sake of others, no one could imitate, though bent on self-interest; Him, the blaze of whose glory is involved in his true name of the All-Knowing One; Him, the Incomparable One together with the Law and the Congregation I venerate with bowed head.

I. The Story of the Tigress.

Even in former births the Lord showed His innate, disinterested, and immense love towards all creatures, and identified himself with all beings. For this reason we ought to have the utmost faith in Buddha, the Lord. This will be instanced by the following great performance of the Lord in a previous birth, which has been celebrated by my guru, a venerator of the Three Jewels, an authority because of his thorough study of virtues, and beloved by his own guru by virtue of his religious practices.

In the time that the Bodhisattva, who afterwards became our Lord, benefited the world by manifold outpourings of his compassion: gifts, kind words, succour, and similar blameless deeds of a wisdom-cultivating mind, quite in accordance with the excessive engagements to which he had bound himself, he took his birth in a most eminent and mighty family of Brâhmans, distinguished by the purity of their conduct owing to their attachment to their (religious) duties. Being purified by the gâtakarma and the other sacraments in due order, he grew up and in a short time, owing to the innate quickness of his understanding, the excellent aid in his studies, his eagerness for learning and his zeal, he obtained the mastership in the eighteen branches of science and in all the arts (kalâs) which were not incompatible with the custom of his family.

5. To the Brâhmans he was (an authority) like the Holy Writ; to the Kshatriyas as venerable as a king; to the masses he appeared like the embodied Thousand-eyed One(23); to those who longed for knowledge he was a helpful father.

In consequence of his prosperous destiny (the result of merits formerly earned), a large store of wealth, distinction, and fame fell to his share. But the Bodhisattva took no delight in such things. His thoughts had been purified by his constant study of the Law, and he had become familiar with world-renunciation.

6. His former behaviour had wholly cleared his mind, he saw the many kinds of sin which beset (worldly) pleasures. So he shook off the householder's state, as if it were an illness, and retired to some plateau, which he adorned by his presence.

7. There, both by his detachment from the world and by his wisdom-brightened tranquillity, he confounded, as it were, the people in the world, who by attachment to bad occupations are disinclined for the calmness of the wise.

8. His calmness full of friendliness spread about, it seems, and penetrated into the hearts of the ferocious animals so as to make them cease injuring one another and live like ascetics.

9. By dint of the pureness of his conduct, his self-control, his contentment, and his compassion, he was no less a friend even to the people in the world, who were unknown to him, than all creatures were friends to him.

10. As he wanted little, he did not know the art of hypocrisy, and he had abandoned the desire for gain, glory, and pleasures. So he caused even the deities to be propitious and worshipful towards him.

11. On the other hand, those whose affection he had gained (in his former state) by his virtues, hearing of his ascetic life, left their families and their relations and went up to him as to the embodied Salvation, in order to become his disciples.

12. He taught his disciples, as best he could, good conduct (sîla), chastity, purification of the organs of sense, constant attentiveness, detachment from the world, and the concentration of the mind to the meditation on friendliness (maitrî) and the rest(24).

Most of his numerous disciples attained perfection in consequence of his teaching, by which this holy road (to salvation) was established and people were put on the excellent path of world-renunciation. Now, the doors of evils being shut, as it were, but the ways of happiness widely opened like high roads, it once happened that the Great-minded One (mahâtman) was rambling along the shrubby caverns of the mountain well adapted to the practices of meditation (yoga), in order to enjoy at his ease this existing order of things. Agita, his disciple at that time, accompanied him.

13-15. Now, below in a cavern of the mountain, he beheld a young tigress that could scarcely move from the place, her strength being exhausted by the labour of whelping. Her sunken eyes and her emaciated belly betokened her hunger, and she was regarding her own offspring as food, who thirsting for the milk of her udders, had come near her, trusting their mother and fearless; but she brawled at them, as if they were strange to her, with prolonged harsh roarings.

16, 17. On seeing her, the Bodhisattva, though composed in mind, was shaken with compassion by the suffering of his fellow-creature, as the lord of the mountains (Meru) is by an earthquake. It is a wonder, how the compassionate, be their constancy ever so evident in the greatest sufferings of their own, are touched by the grief, however small, of another!

And his powerful pity made him utter, agitation made him repeat to his pupil, the following words manifesting his excellent nature: 'My dear, my dear,' he exclaimed,

18. 'Behold the worthlessness of Samsâra! This animal seeks to feed on her very own young ones. Hunger causes her to transgress love's law.

19. 'Alas! Fie upon the ferocity of self-love, that makes a mother wish to make her meal with the bodies of her own offspring!

20. 'Who ought to foster the foe, whose name is self-love, by whom one may be compelled to actions like this?

'Go, then, quickly and look about for some means of appeasing her hunger, that she may not injure her young ones and herself. I too shall endeavour to avert her from that rash act.' The disciple promised to do so, and went off in search of food. Yet the Bodhisattva had but used a pretext to turn him off. He considered thus:

21. 'Why should I search after meat from the body of another, whilst the whole of my own body is available? Not only is the getting of the meat in itself a matter of chance, but I should also lose the opportunity of doing my duty.

'Further,

22-24. 'This body being brute, frail, pithless, ungrateful, always impure, and a source of suffering, he is not wise who should not rejoice at its being spent for the benefit of another. There are but two things that make one disregard the grief of another: attachment to one's own pleasure and the absence of the power of helping. But I cannot have pleasure, whilst another grieves, and I have the power to help; why should I be indifferent? And if, while being able to succour, I were to show indifference even to an evildoer immersed in grief, my mind, I suppose, would feel the remorse for an evil deed, burning like shrubs caught by a great fire.

25. 'Therefore, I will kill my miserable body by casting it down into the precipice, and with my corpse I shall preserve the tigress from killing her young ones and the young ones from dying by the teeth of their mother.

'Even more, by so doing

26-29. 'I set an example to those who long for the good of the world; I encourage the feeble; I rejoice those who understand the meaning of charity; I stimulate the virtuous; I cause disappointment to the great hosts of Mâra, but gladness to those who love the Buddha-virtues; I confound the people who are absorbed in selfishness and subdued by egotism and lusts; I give a token of faith to the adherents of the most excellent of vehicles(25), but I fill with astonishment those who sneer at deeds of charity; I clear the highway to Heaven in a manner pleasing to the charitable among men; and finally that wish I yearned for, "When may I have the opportunity of benefiting others with the offering of my own limbs?"—I shall accomplish it now, and so acquire erelong Complete Wisdom.

30, 31. 'Verily, as surely as this determination does not proceed from ambition, nor from thirst of glory, nor is a means of gaining Heaven or royal dignity, as surely as I do not care even for supreme and everlasting bliss for myself, but for securing the benefit of others(26): as surely may I gain by it the power of taking away and imparting for ever at the same time the world's sorrow and the world's happiness, just as the sun takes away darkness and imparts light!

32. 'Whether I shall be remembered, when virtue is seen to be practised, or made conspicuous, when the tale of my exploit is told; in every way may I constantly benefit the world and promote its happiness!'

33. After so making up his mind, delighted at the thought that he was to destroy even his life for securing the benefit of others, to the amazement even of the calm minds of the deities—he gave up his body.

The sound of the Bodhisattva's body falling down stirred the curiosity and the anger of the tigress. She desisted from her disposition of making a slaughter of her whelps, and cast her eyes all around. As soon as she perceived the lifeless body of the Bodhisattva, she rushed hastily upon it and commenced to devour it.

But his disciple, coming back without meat, as he had got none, not seeing his teacher, looked about for him. Then he beheld that young tigress feeding on the lifeless body of the Bodhisattva. And the admiration of the extraordinary greatness of his performance driving back his emotions of sorrow and pain, he probably gave a fair utterance(27) to his veneration for his teacher's attachment to virtues by this monologue:

34-37. 'Oh, how merciful the Great-minded One was to people afflicted by distress! How indifferent He was to His own welfare! How He has brought to perfection the virtuous conduct of the pious, and dashed to pieces the splendid glory of their adversaries! How He has displayed, clinging to virtues, His heroic, fearless, and immense love! How His body, which was already precious for its virtues, has now forcibly been turned into a vessel of the highest veneration! And although by His innate kindness He was as patient as Earth, how intolerant He was of the suffering of others! And how my own roughness of mind is evidenced by the contrast of this splendid act of heroism of His! Verily, the creatures are not to be commiserated now, having got Him as their Protector, and Manmatha(28), forsooth, is now sighing away, being disturbed and in dread of defeat.

'In every way, veneration be to that illustrious Great Being (mahâsattva), of exuberant compassion, of boundless goodness, the refuge of all creatures, yea, that Bodhisattva for the sake of the creatures.' And he told the matter over to his fellow-disciples.

38. Then his disciples and also the Gandharvas, the Yakshas, the snakes, and the chiefs of the Devas, expressing by their countenance their admiration for his deed, covered the ground that held the treasure of his bones, with a profusion of wreaths, clothes, jewel ornaments, and sandal powder.

So, then, even in former births the Lord showed His innate, disinterested, and immense love towards all creatures, and identified Himself with all creatures. For this reason we ought to have the utmost faith in Buddha, the Lord. [And also this is to be propounded: 'And having obtained this faith in Buddha the Lord, we ought to strive for feeling the highest gladness; in this manner our faith will have its sanctuary.'—Likewise we must listen with attention to the preaching of the Law, since it has been brought to us by means of hundreds of difficult hardships(29).—And in sermons on the subject of compassion, thus is to be said: 'in this manner compassion, moving us to act for the benefit of others, is productive of an exceedingly excellent nature(30).']

The story of the tigress, which does not appear either in the Pâli Gâtaka or in the Kariyâpitaka, is alluded to in the Bodhisattvâvadanâkalpalatâ of Kshemendra II, 108. There the Bodhisattva, on the occasion of a similar fact of self-denial and heroism in a later birth, says: 'Formerly, on seeing a hungry tigress preparing to eat her whelps, I gave her my body, in order to avert this, without hesitation.' And in the fifty-first pallava the story is narrated at length, verses 28-50. It differs in some points from ours. So does also the redaction of the Southern Buddhists, told by Spence Hardy, Manual, p. 94 of the 2nd ed.

II. The Story of the King of the Sibis.

(Comp. the Pâli Gâtaka, No. 499, Fausb. IV, 401-412; Kariyâpitaka I, 8.)

The preaching of the excellent Law must be listened to with attention. For it is by means of hundreds of difficult hardships that the Lord obtained this excellent Law for our sake. This is shown by the following.

In the time, when this our Lord was still a Bodhisattva, in consequence of his possessing a store of meritorious actions collected by a practice from time immemorial, he once was a king of the Sibis. By his deference to the elders whom he was wont to honour from his very childhood, and by his attachment to a modest behaviour, he gained the affection of his subjects; owing to his natural quickness of intellect, he enlarged his mind by learning many sciences; he was distinguished by energy, discretion, majesty and power, and favoured by fortune. He ruled his subjects as if they were his own children.

1. The different sets of virtues, that accompany each member of the triad (of dharma, artha, and kâma) all together gladly took their residence, it seems, with him; and yet they did not lose any of their splendour in spite of the disturbance which might occur from their contrasts.

2. And felicity, that is like a mockery to those who have attained a high rank by wrong means, like a grievous calamity to the fool, like an intoxicating liquor to the feeble-minded—to him it was, as is indicated by its name, real happiness.

3. Noble-hearted, full of compassion, and wealthy, this best of kings rejoiced at seeing the faces of the mendicants beaming with satisfaction and joy at the attainment of the wished-for objects.

Now this king, in accordance with his propensity for charity, had caused alms-halls, provided with every kind of utensils, goods, and grains, to be constructed in all parts of the town. In this way he poured out the rain of his gifts, not unlike a cloud of the Krita Yuga. And he distributed them in such a manner, as well became the loftiness of his mind, supplying the wants of each according to his desire, with lovely deference and kind speed, whereby he enhanced the benefit of his gifts. He bestowed food and drink on those who were in need of food and drink; likewise he dispensed couches, seats, dwellings, meals, perfumes, wreaths, silver, gold, &c., to those who wanted them. Then, the fame of the king's sublime munificence spreading abroad, people who lived in different regions and parts of the world went to that country, with surprise and joy in their hearts.

4. The mendicants, when letting the whole world of men pass before their mind's eye, did not find in others an opportunity of putting forth their requests; to him it was that they went up in crowds with glad faces, just as wild elephants go up to a great lake.

The king, on the other hand, when beholding them, whose minds were rejoiced with the hope of gain, flocking together from all directions, though the outward appearance of that mendicant people in travelling dress was anything but handsome,—

5. Nevertheless he received them, as if they were friends come back from abroad, his eyes wide-opened with joy; he listened to their requests, as if good news were reported to him, and after giving, his contentment surpassed that of the recipients.

6. The voices of the beggars spread about the perfume of the fame of his munificence, and so abated the pride of the other kings. In a similar way, the scent of the juice that runs out of the temples of the scent-elephant in rut, being scattered by the wind, causes the bees to neglect the like fluid of the other elephants(31).

One day the king, making the tour of his alms-halls, noticed the very small number of supplicants staying there, in consequence of the wants of the mendicant people being supplied. When he considered this, he was uneasy, because his habit of almsgiving could not well proceed.

7. The indigent, when coming to him, quenched their thirst (for the desired boons), not he his (thirst for giving), when meeting with them. His passion for charity was so great, that no requester by the extent of his request could outdo his determination of giving.

Then this thought arose within him: 'Oh, very blessed are those most excellent among the pious, to whom the mendicants utter their desires with confidence and without restraint, so as to ask even their limbs! But to me, as if they were terrified by harsh words of refusal, they show only boldness in requesting my wealth.'

8. Now Earth, becoming aware of that exceedingly lofty thought, how her lord holding on to charity, had stopped the very attachment to his own flesh, trembled as a wife would, who loves her husband.

The surface of the earth being shaken, Sumeru, the lord of mountains, radiant with the shine of its manifold gems, began to waver. Sakra, the Lord of the Devas (Devendra), inquiring into the cause of this wavering, understood that it was the sublime thought of that king which produced the shivering of Earth's surface; and as he was taken up with amazement, he entered into this reflection:

9. 'How is this? Does this king bear his mind so high and feel so great a rejoicing at giving away in charity as to conceive the thought of girding his resolution to give with the strong determination of parting with his own limbs?

'Well, I will try him.'

Now the king, surrounded by his officials, was sitting (on his throne, in his hall) in the midst of the assembly. The usual summons by proclamation had been given, inviting anybody who was in need of anything; stores of wealth, silver, gold, jewels, were being disclosed by the care of the treasurer; boxes filled to the top with various kinds of clothes, were being uncovered; various excellent carriages, the yokes of which enclosed the necks of different well-trained beasts of draught, were being made to advance; and the mendicants were crowding in. Among them Sakra, the Lord of the Devas, having assumed the shape of an old and blind Brâhman, drew the attention of the king. On him the king fixed his firm, placid, and mild looks expressive of compassion and friendliness, and he seemed with them to go to his encounter and to embrace him. The royal attendants requested him to say what he was wanting, but he drew near the king, and after uttering his hail and blessing, addressed him with these words:

10. 'A blind, old man I have come hither from afar begging thy eye, O highest of kings. For the purpose of ruling the world's regular course one eye may be sufficient, O lotus-eyed monarch.'

Though the Bodhisattva experienced an extreme delight at his heart's desire being realised, a doubt arose within him as to whether the Brâhman had really said so or, this thought being always present to his mind, himself had fancied so, and since he longed to hear the very sweet words of the eye being asked, he thus spoke to the eye-asker:

11. 'Who has instructed thee, illustrious Brâhman, to come here and to ask from me one eye? No one, it is said, will easily part with his eye. Who is he that thinks the contrary of me?'

Sakra, the Lord of the Devas in the disguise of a Brâhman, knowing the intention of the king, answered:

12. 'It is Sakra. His statue, instructing me to ask thee for thy eye, has caused me to come here. Now make real his opinion and my hope by giving me thy eye.'

Hearing the name of Sakra, the king thought: 'Surely, through divine power this Brâhman shall regain his eyesight in this way,' and he spoke in a voice, the clear sound of which manifested his joy:

13. 'Brâhman, I will fulfil thy wish, which has prompted thee to come here. Thou desirest one eye from me, I shall give thee both.

14. 'After I have adorned thy face with a pair of bright lotus-like eyes, go thy way, putting the bystanders first into doubt's swing as to thy identity, but soon amazing them by the certainty of it.'

The king's counsellors, understanding that he had decided to part with his eyes, were perplexed and agitated, and sadness afflicted their minds. They said to the king:

15, 16. 'Majesty, Your too great fondness for charity makes you overlook that this is mismanagement leading to evil. Be propitious, then, desist from your purpose; do not give up your eyesight! For the sake of one twice-born man you must not disregard all of us. Do not burn with the fire of sorrow your subjects, to whom you have hitherto ensured comfort and prosperity.

17, 18. 'Money, the source of opulence; brilliant gems; milch cows; carriages and trained beasts of draught; vigorous elephants of graceful beauty; dwellings fit for all seasons, resounding with the noise of the anklets(32), and by their brightness surpassing the autumn-clouds: such are boons fit to be bestowed. Give those, and not your eyesight, O you who are the only eye of the world.

'Moreover, great king, you must but consider this:

19. 'How can the eye of one person be put in the face of another? If, however, divine power may effect this, why should your eye be wanted for it?

'Further, Your Majesty,

20. 'Of what use is eyesight to a poor man? That he might witness the abundance of others? Well then, give him money; do not commit an act of rashness!'

Then the king addressed his ministers in soft and conciliating terms:

21. 'He who after promising to give, makes up his mind to withhold his gift, such a one puts on again the bond of cupidity which he had cast off before.

22. 'He who after promising to give, does not keep his promise, being driven from his resolution by avarice, should he not be held for the worst of men?

23. 'He who, having strengthened the hope of the mendicants by engaging himself to give, pays them with the harsh disappointment of a refusal, for him there is no expiation.

'And with respect to your asserting "is divine power of itself not sufficient to restore the eyesight to that man?" you should be taught this.

24. 'That different means are wanted to carry out purposes, is well known, indeed. For this reason even Destiny (Vidhi), though a deity, needs some means or other.

'Therefore, you must not exert yourselves to obstruct my determination to accomplish an extraordinary deed of charity.'

The ministers answered: 'We have only ventured to observe to Your Majesty that you ought to give away goods and grains and jewels, not your eye; when saying this, we do not entice Your Majesty to wickedness.'

The king said: