"B

MONKEYS IN THE GARDEN

From the Jataka,' No. 268

EST of all," etc.- This story the Master told whilst dwelling in the country near South Mountain, about a gardener's son.

After the rains, the Master left Jetavana, and went on almspilgrimage in the district about South Mountain. A layman invited the Buddha and his company, and made them sit down in his grounds till he gave them of rice and cakes. Then he said, "If any of the holy Fathers care to see over the grounds, they might go along with the gardener;" and he ordered the gardener to supply them with any fruit they might fancy.

By-and by they came upon a bare spot. "What is the reason," they asked, "that this spot is bare and treeless?" "The reason is," answered the gardener, "that a certain gardener's son, who had to water the saplings, thought he had better give them water in proportion to the length of the roots; so he pulled them all up to see, and watered them accordingly. The result was that the place became bare.»

The brethren returned, and told this to their Master. Said he, "Not now only has the lad destroyed a plantation: he did just the same before;" and then he told them an old-world tale.

ONCE upon a time, when a king named Vissasena was reigning over Benares, proclamation was made of a holiday. The park keeper thought he would go and keep holiday; so calling the monkeys that lived in the park, he said:

"This park is a great blessing to you. I want to take a week's holiday. Will you water the saplings on the seventh day?" "Oh, yes," said they. So he gave them the wateringskins, and went his way.

The monkeys drew water, and began to water the roots.

The eldest monkey cried out: "Wait, now! It's hard to get water always. We must husband it. Let us pull up the plants, and notice the length of their roots: if they have long roots, they need plenty of water; but short ones need only a little." "True, true," they agreed; and then some of them pulled up the plants, while others put them in again and watered them.

The Future Buddha at the time was a young gentleman living in Benares. Something or other took him to this park, and he saw what the monkeys were doing.

"Who bids you do that?" asked he.

"Our chief," they replied.

"If that is the wisdom of the chief, what must the rest of you be like!" said he; and to explain the matter, he uttered the first stanza:

"Best of all the troop is this:

What intelligence is his!

If he was chosen as the best,

What sort of creatures are the rest!"

Hearing this remark, the monkeys rejoined with the second

stanza:

"Brahman, you know not what you say,

Blaming us in such a way!

If the root we do not know,

How can we tell the trees that grow?»

To which the Future Buddha replied by the third, as follows:

"Monkeys, I have no blame for you,

Nor those who range the woodland through.

The monarch is a fool, to say

'Please tend my trees while I'm away.""

When this discourse was ended, the Master identified the Birth :"The lad who destroyed the park was the monkey chief, and I was the wise man."

THE ANTELOPE, THE WOODPECKER, AND THE TORTOISE

From the Jataka,' No. 206

[This story is found sculptured upon an ancient Hindu monument of the greatest archæological interest, the Stupa of Bharhut. The history of the tale may accordingly be traced by actual records-in stone and in books-from 250 B. C. through Buddhist, Mohammedan, Jewish, and Christian literature, down to La Fontaine (Fables,' xii. 15) and later.]

"C

OME, tortoise," etc.- This story the Master told at Veluvana, about Devadatta. News came to the Master that Devadatta was plotting his death. "Ah, Brethren," said he, "it was just the same long ago: Devadatta tried then to kill me, as he is trying now." And he told them this story.

ONCE upon a time, when Brahmadatta was King of Benares, the Future Buddha became an antelope, and lived within a forest,

in a thicket near a certain lake. Not far from the same lake sat a woodpecker perched at the top of a tree; and in the lake dwelt a tortoise. And the three became friends, and lived together in amity.

A hunter, wandering about in the wood, observed the Future Buddha's footprint at the going down into the water; and he set a trap of leather, strong, like an iron chain, and went his way. In the first watch of the night the Future Buddha went down to drink, and got caught in the noose; whereat he cried loud and long. Thereupon the woodpecker flew down from her tree-top, and the tortoise came out of the water, and consulted what was to be done.

Said the woodpecker to the tortoise, "Friend, you have teeth, - bite this snare through: I will go and see to it that the hunter keeps away; and if we both do our best, our friend will not lose his life." To make this clear he uttered the first stanza:

"Come, tortoise, tear the leathern snare,

And bite it through and through,
And of the hunter I'll take care,

And keep him off from you."

The tortoise began to gnaw the leather thong; the woodpecker made his way to the hunter's dwelling. At dawn of day the hunter went out, knife in hand. As soon as the bird saw him start, he uttered a cry, flapped his wings, and struck him in the face as he left the front door. "Some bird of ill omen has struck me!" thought the hunter; he turned back, and lay down for a little while. Then he rose up again, and took his knife. The bird reasoned within himself, "The first time he went out by the front door, so now he will leave by the back: " and he sat him down behind the house. The hunter too reasoned in the same way: When I went out by the front door, I saw a bad omen: now will I go out by the back!" and so he did. But the bird cried out again, and struck him in the face. Finding that he was again struck by a bird of ill omen, the hunter exclaimed, "This creature will not let me go!" and turning back he lay down until sunrise, and when the sun was risen he took his knife and started.

« Here

The woodpecker made all haste back to his friends. comes the hunter!" he cried. By this time the tortoise had gnawed through all the thongs but one tough thong; his teeth

seemed as though they would fall out, and his mouth was all smeared with blood. The Future Buddha saw the young hunter coming on like lightning, knife in hand: he burst the thong, and fled into the woods. The woodpecker perched upon his tree-top. But the tortoise was so weak that he lay where he was. The hunter threw him into a bag, and tied it to a tree.

The Future Buddha observed that the tortoise was taken, and determined to save his friend's life. So he let the hunter see him, and made as though he were weak. The hunter saw him, and thinking him to be weak, seized his knife and set out in pursuit. The Future Buddha, keeping just out of his reach, led him into the forest; and when he saw that they had come far away, gave him the slip and returned swift as the wind by another way. He lifted the bag with his horns, threw it upon the ground, ripped it open, and let the tortoise out. And the woodpecker came down from the tree.

Then the Future Buddha thus addressed them both: "My life has been saved by you, and you have done a friend's part to Now the hunter will come and take you; so do you, friend woodpecker, migrate elsewhere with your brood, and you, friend tortoise, dive into the water." They did so.

me.

The Master, becoming perfectly enlightened, uttered the second

The tortoise went into the pond, the deer into the wood,
And from the tree the woodpecker carried away his brood.

The hunter returned, and saw none of them. He found his bag torn; picked it up, and went home sorrowful. And the three friends lived all their life long in unbroken amity, and then passed away to fare according to their deeds.

When the Master had ended this discourse, he identified the Birth: "Devadatta was the huntsman, Sariputta the woodpecker, Moggallana the tortoise, and I was the antelope.»

PRINCE FIVE-WEAPONS

From the Jataka,' No. 55

[The essential feature of this story bears a striking, but probably fortuitous, resemblance to that of the Tar-baby of Uncle Remus. The narrator's naively religious interpretation of the Sword of Adamant is highly characteristic. Rahu is the demon that swallows the moon, and so causes eclipses.]

"WH

HEN no attachment."-This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, about a brother who had given up all earnest effort.

Said the Master to him, "Is the report true, brother, that you are a backslider? »

"Yes, Blessed One."

"In bygone days, brother," said the Master, "the wise and good won a throne by their dauntless perseverance in the hour of need." And so saying he told this story of the past.

ONCE on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, it was as his queen's child that the Future Buddha came to life once more. On the day when he was to be named, the parents inquired as to their child's destiny from one hundred and eight brahmans, to whom they gave their hearts' desire in all pleasures of sense. Marking the promise which he showed of a glorious destiny, these clever soothsaying brahmans foretold that, coming to the throne at the king's death, the child should be a mighty king, endowed with every virtue; famed and renowned. for his exploits with five weapons, he should stand peerless throughout all the Land of the Rose-apple (India). And because of this prophecy of the brahmans, the parents named their son. Prince Five-Weapons.

Now, when the prince was come to years of discretion, and was sixteen years old, the king bade him go away and study. "With whom, sire, am I to study?" asked the prince. "With the world-renowned professor in the town of Takkasila in the Gandhara country. Here is his fee," said the king, handing his son a thousand pieces.

So the prince went to Takkasila and was taught there. When he was leaving, his master gave him a set of five weapons; armed with which, after bidding adieu to his old master, the prince set out from Takkasila for Benares.