Jataka 402
Sattubhasta Jātaka Jātaka
The Pouch with Flour
as told by Eric Van Horn
originally translated by H.T. Francis and R.A. Neil, Cambridge University
originally edited by Professor Edward Byles Cowell, Cambridge University
This rather lengthy story speaks for itself. However, there are a number of items worth noting. First, this life of the Bodhisatta apparently is one very close to the one where he becomes the Buddha. He has perfected many of the qualities that will mature in his becoming the Buddha.
There are also a couple of small items worth noting. First is that when the snake is captured, he is not killed but is released back into the forest. This would be very much in keeping with the Buddha’s Dharma, of course. Similarly, the unfaithful wife is forgiven by her aged husband. This is also very much in keeping with the Dharma. As Ajahn Brahm says, “How many times should you forgive? The answer is always, ‘One more time.’”
“You are confused.” The Master told this story when he was staying at Jetavana. It is about the Perfection of Wisdom. The occasion of the story will appear in the Ummagga Birth (Jātaka 546).
Once upon a time a King named Janaka was reigning in Benares. At that time the Bodhisatta was born into a brahmin family, and they called him Young Senaka. When he grew up, he learned all the arts at Takkasilā University. And when he returned to Benares, he went to see the King.
The King appointed him to the position of minister and gave him great honor. He taught the King things worldly and spiritual. Being a pleasant preacher of the Dharma, he established the King in the Five Precepts, in alms-giving, in keeping the holy days, in the ten ways of right action (generosity, morality, renunciation, honesty, gentleness, asceticism, non-violence, patience, uprightness), and so established him in the path of virtue. Throughout the kingdom it was as if it were the time of the appearing of the Buddhas. On the holy days the King, the viceroys, and others would all assemble and decorate the meeting place. The Bodhisatta taught the Dharma in this decorated room sitting on a deer skin couch. He taught with the power of a Buddha, and his word was like the preaching of Buddhas.
One day a certain old brahmin who was begging for alms acquired a thousand gold pieces. He gave them to a brahmin family, and then he went out to seek alms again. Once he left, that family spent all the money. When he returned, he asked to have his gold coins brought to him. The brahmin, being unable to give them to him, gave him his daughter as his wife. The other brahmin took her and made his home in a brahmin village not far from Benares. Because of her youth, his wife was unsatisfied in sensual desires, and she had an affair with another young brahmin.
Now, there are 16 things that cannot be satisfied. And what are those sixteen? The sea is not satisfied with all rivers, nor the fire with fuel, nor a king with his kingdom, nor a fool with misdeeds. An untrained woman is not satisfied with three things: intercourse, adornment, and child-bearing. A brahmin is not satisfied with sacred texts, nor a sage with ecstatic meditation, nor a sekha (a spiritual seeker) with honor. One free from desire is not satisfied with devotion, nor the energetic man with energy, nor the talker with talk, nor the political man with the council, nor the believer with serving the holy community, nor the liberal man with giving away, nor the learned with hearing the law, nor the four congregations (i.e., the Four Fold Saṇgha: monks, nuns, laymen, and laywomen) with seeing the Buddha. So this brahmin woman, being unsatisfied with intercourse, wished to be rid of her husband and pursue her sense desire undisturbed.
So one day in her evil purpose she lay down. When the brahmin said, “How is it, wife?” she answered, “Brahmin, I cannot do the work of your house. Get a maid for me.” “Wife, I have no money. What shall I give to get her?” “Get money by begging for alms, and then you can get her.” “Then, wife, get ready something for my journey.” She filled a skin bag for him with baked meal and unbaked meal, and then she gave them to him. The brahmin left. He went through villages, towns and cities. He was able to acquire 700 hundred gold pieces. And then he thought, “This money is enough to buy slaves, male and female.” On the way back to his own village, he stopped at a convenient place for water. There he opened his sack, and after eating some meal, he went down to drink water. But he did so without tying the bag shut. A black snake in a hollow tree, smelling the food, entered the bag and lay down in a coil eating the meal. The brahmin returned. And without looking inside, he fastened the sack, put it on his shoulder and went his way.
Then a spirit living in a tree, sitting in a hollow of the trunk, said to him, “Brahmin, if you stop on the way home, you will die. If you go straight home today, your wife will die.” And then the spirit vanished. The brahmin looked around him, but he did not see the spirit. He was afraid and anxious with the fear of death. And so when he arrived at the gate of Benares, he was weeping and lamenting.
It was the holy day of the new moon, so the Bodhisatta was teaching. He was sitting on the decorated seat of the Dharma. Many people brought perfumes and flowers and the like in their hands. They arrived in great numbers to hear the teaching. The brahmin saw them and asked, “Where are you going?” They told him, “O brahmin, today wise Senaka teaches the Dharma with a sweet voice and the power of a Buddha. Do you not know this?” He thought, “They say he is a wise teacher, and I am troubled by the fear of death. Wise men are able to take away even great sorrow. I should go there and hear the Dharma.” So he went with them, and when the assembly—with the King among them—had sat down around the Bodhisatta, he stood on the outside, not far from the seat of the Dharma. He had his meal sack on his shoulder, still chilled by the fear of death.
The Bodhisatta taught as if he were bringing down the river of heaven or showering ambrosia. The crowd was extremely pleased, and they applauded his teaching.
Wise men have far sight. At that moment the Bodhisatta opened his eyes. They were illuminated by the five graces. He surveyed the assembly on every side and, seeing that brahmin, he thought, “This great assembly has is pleased and listens to the Dharma. They have applauded, but that one brahmin is not pleased, and he weeps. There must be some sorrow in him to cause his tears. As if touching rust with acid, or making a drop of water roll from a lotus leaf, I will teach him the Dharma. I will free him from his sorrow, and he will be happy and contented in his mind.” So he called out to him. “Brahmin, I am wise Senaka. Now I will free you from sorrow. Speak boldly.” And so he spoke the first stanza:
You are confused in thought, disturbed in sense,
Tears streaming from your eyes are evidence.
What have you lost, or what you wish to gain
By coming right here? Give me answer plain.
Then the brahmin, declaring his cause of sorrow, spoke the second stanza:
If I go home to my wife she must die,
If I go not, the yakkha said, ’tis I.
That is the thought that pierces cruelly.
Explain the matter, Senaka, to me.
The Bodhisatta, hearing the brahmin’s words, spread the net of knowledge as if throwing it into the sea. He thought, “There are many causes of death in this world. Some die sunk in the sea or seized there by ravenous fish. Some fall in the Ganges or are seized by crocodiles. Some fall from a tree or are pierced by a thorn, some struck by weapons of various kinds, some by eating poison or hanging or falling from a cliff or by extreme cold or attacked by diseases of various kinds. So they die. Now among so many causes of death, from which cause will this brahmin die if he stays on the road today, or his wife if he goes home?”
As he considered this, he saw the sack on the brahmin’s shoulder. He thought, “There must be a snake who has gone into that sack. He must have entered it from the smell of the meal. And when the brahmin at breakfast had eaten some meal and gone to drink water, he did not fasten the sack’s mouth. When the brahmin returned, he must have fastened the sack without seeing that the snake had entered. If he stays on the road, he will say at evening when he rests, “I will eat some meal.” And when he opens the sack, he will put his hand into it. Then the snake will bite him and take his life. This will be the cause of his death if he stays on the road. But if he goes home, his wife will open the sack. She will say, ‘I will look inside.’ And when she puts in her hand, the snake will bite her and take her life, and this will be the cause of her death if he goes home today.”
Then this thought came into his mind: “The snake must be a black snake, brave and fearless. When the sack strikes against the brahmin’s side, he shows no motion or quivering. He shows no sign of his being there even among such a large assembly. Therefore he must be a black snake, brave and fearless.” He knew this as if he was seeing with a divine eye. So as if he had been a man who had stood by and seen the snake enter the sack, the Bodhisatta answering the brahmin’s question, and in the royal assembly, he spoke the third stanza:
First with many a doubt I deal,
Now my tongue the truth declares.
Brahmin, in your bag of meal
A snake has entered unawares.
So saying, he asked, “O brahmin, is there any meal in that sack of yours?” “There is, O sage.” “Did you eat some meal today at breakfast time?” “Yes, O sage.” “Where were you sitting?” “In a wood, at the root of a tree.” “When you ate the meal and went off to drink water, did you fasten the sack’s mouth or not?” “I did not, O sage.” “When you drank water and then returned, did you fasten the sack after looking in?” “I fastened it without looking in, O sage.” “O brahmin, when you went to drink water, I think the snake entered the sack because of the smell of the meal without your knowledge. Therefore put down your sack, set it in the middle of the assembly. Then open the mouth, stand back, and take a stick and beat the sack with it. Then when you see a black snake coming out with its hood spread and hissing, you will have no doubt.” And so he spoke the fourth stanza:
Take a stick and beat the sack,
Dumb and double-tongued is he.
Cease your mind with doubts to rack,
Open the sack, the snake you'll see.
The brahmin, hearing the Great Being’s words, did so, even though he was alarmed and frightened. The snake came out of the sack when his hood was struck with the stick, and he stood looking at the crowd.
Figure: The snake emerges from the sack.
The Master, explaining the matter, spoke the fifth stanza:
Frightened, ’midst the assembled rout,
String of meal-sack he untied,
Angry crept a serpent out,
Hood erect, in all his pride.
When the snake came out with its hood erect, this was a forecast of the Bodhisatta as the omniscient Buddha. The multitude began waving cloths and snapping fingers in the thousands. There were showers of the seven precious stones (gold, silver, pearl, coral, catseye, ruby, and diamond) as from a thick cloud. Cries of “good” were raised in hundreds of thousands, and the noise was like the splitting of the earth. This answering of such a question with the power of a Buddha is not the power of birth, nor the power of men rich in gifts and high family. Of what is it the power then? Of knowledge. The man of knowledge awakens spiritual insight. He opens the door of the noble Paths, enters the great and boundless nirvāna. He masters the perfection of disciple-hood, pacceka-buddha-hood, and perfect buddha-hood. Knowledge is the best among the qualities that bring the great and boundless nirvana. All else are the attendants of knowledge. And so it is said:
"Wisdom is best," the good confess,
Like the moon in starry skies,
Virtue, fortune, righteousness,
Are the handmaids of the wise.
When the question had been answered by the Bodhisatta, a certain snake charmer made a mouth band for the snake. He caught him and then released him in the forest.
The brahmin went up to the King, saluted him, paid homage to him, and praising him, spoke half a stanza:
Great, King Janaka, your gain,
Seeing Senaka the wise.
After praising the King, he took the 700 gold pieces from the bag. And praising the Bodhisatta, he spoke a stanza and a half wishing to give a gift in delight:
Dread thy wisdom, veils are vain,
Brahmin, to your piercing eyes.
These seven hundred pieces, see,
Take them all, I give them thee.
’Tis to you I owe my life,
And the welfare of my wife.
Hearing this, the Bodhisatta spoke the eighth stanza:
For reciting poetry
Wise men can’t accept a wage,
Rather let us give to thee,
As you take the homeward stage.
So saying, the Bodhisatta had a full thousand gold pieces given to the brahmin. Then he asked him, “By whom were you sent to beg for money?” “By my wife, O sage.” “Is your wife old or young?” “Young, O sage.” “Then she is having an affair with another. She sent you away thinking to do so in secrecy. If you take these gold pieces home, she will give the gold pieces won by your labor to her lover. Therefore, you should not go straight home. You should only go home after leaving the gold pieces outside the town at the root of a tree or somewhere safe.” And so he sent him away.
When the brahmin approached the village, he left his gold pieces at the root of a tree, and then he returned home in the evening. At that moment his wife was seated with her lover. The brahmin stood at the door and said, “Wife.” She recognized his voice. She put out the light and opened the door. When the brahmin came in, she took her lover and hid him at the door. Then she came back, not seeing anything in the sack, she asked, “Brahmin, what alms have you acquired on your journey?” “A thousand gold pieces.” “Where is it?” “I left them at such and such a place. But never mind. We will get them tomorrow.” She went and told her lover, and he went and took it as if it were his own treasure.
On the next day the brahmin went, and not seeing the gold pieces, he went to see the Bodhisatta. The Bodhisatta said, “What is the matter, brahmin?” “I don't see the gold pieces, O sage.” “Did you tell your wife?” “Yes, O sage.” Knowing that the wife had told her lover, the Bodhisatta asked, “Brahmin, is there a brahmin who is a friend of your wife’s?” “There is, O sage.” “Is there one who is a friend of yours?” “Yes, O sage.” Then the Great Being ordered that seven days’ expenses be given to him, and he said, “Go. You and your wife invite and entertain fourteen brahmins on the first day. Choose seven brahmins for yourself and seven for your wife. From the next day onwards, take one less brahmin each day, until on the seventh day, you invite one brahmin and your wife one. Then if you notice that the brahmin your wife asks on the seventh day has come every day, come and tell me.”
The brahmin did so. He told the Bodhisatta, “O sage, I have observed the brahmin who is always our guest.” The Bodhisatta sent men with him to bring that brahmin. He asked him, “Did you take a thousand gold pieces belonging to this brahmin from the root of such and such a tree?” “I did not, O sage.” “You do not know that I am the wise Senaka. I will make you return those gold pieces.” The brahmin was afraid, and he confessed, saying, “I took them.” “What did you do with them?” “I put them in such and such a place, O sage.” The Bodhisatta asked the first brahmin, "Brahmin, will you keep your wife or take another?” “Let me keep her, O sage.” The Bodhisatta sent men to get the gold pieces and the wife. He gave the brahmin the gold pieces from the thief’s hand. He punished the thief, banishing him from the city. He also punished the wife and gave great honor to the brahmin, making him live near to his own home.
After the lesson, the Master taught the Four Noble Truths. At the end of the teaching, many attained the fruition of the First Path (stream-entry). Then he identified the birth: “At that time the brahmin was Ānanda, the spirit was Sāriputta, the assembly was the Saṇgha, and I was wise Senaka.”