Vessantara’s Earthquake

‘Venerable Nāgasena, the Blessed One said thus: “There are these eight causes, O Bhikkhus, proximate or remote, for a mighty earthquake.” This is an inclusive statement, a statement which leaves no room for anything to be, supplemented, a statement to which no gloss can be added. There can be no ninth reason for an earthquake. If there were, the Blessed One would have mentioned it. It, is because there is no other, that he left it unnoticed. But we find another, and a ninth reason, when we are told that on Vessantara’s giving his mighty largesse the earth shook seven times. If, Nāgasena, there are eight causes for an earthquake, then what we hear of the earthquake at Vessantara’s largesse is false. And if that is true, then the statement as to the eight causes of earthquakes is false. This double-headed question, too, is subtle, hard to unravel, dark, and profound. It is now put to you. No one of less knowledge can solve it, only one wise as you.’
‘The Blessed One made the statement you refer to, O king, and yet the earth shook seven times at Vessantara’s largesse. But that was out of season, it was an isolated occurrence, it was not included in the eight usual causes, and was not therefore reckoned as one of them. just, O king, as there are three kinds of well-known rains reckoned in the world-that of the rainy season, that of the winter months, and that of the two months Āsāḷha and Sāvana. If, besides these, any other rain falls, that is not reckoned among the usual rains, but is called “a rain out of season.” And again, O king, just as there are five hundred rivers which flow down from the Himālayas, but of these ten only are reckoned in enumerations of rivers—the Ganges, the Jumna, the Aciravatī, the Sarabhū, the Mahī, the Indus, the Sarasvatī, the Vetravatī, the Vītaṃsā, and the Candabhāgā—the others not being included in the catalogue because of their intermittent flow of water. And again, O king, just as there are a hundred or two of officers under the king, but only six of them are reckoned as officers of state—the commander-in-chief, the prime minister, and the chief judge, and the high treasurer, and the bearer of the sunshade of state, and the state sword-bearer. And why? Because of their royal prerogatives. The rest are not reckoned, they are all called simply officers. Just as in all these cases, great king, the seven times repeated earthquake at the largesse of Vessantara was, as an isolated and extra ordinary occurrence, and distinct from the eight usual ones, not reckoned among those eight causes.’
‘Now have you heard, O king, in the history of our faith of any act of devotion being done so as to receive its recompense even in this present life, the fame of which has reached up to the gods?’
‘Yes, Lord, I have heard of such. There are seven cases of such actions.’
‘Who were the people who did those things?’
‘Sumana the garland maker, and Eka-sāṭaka the brahman, and Puṇṇa the hired servant, and Mallikā the queen, and the queen known as the mother of Gopāla, and Suppiyā the devoted woman, and Puṇṇā the slave-girl. It was these seven who did acts of devotion which bare fruit even in this life, and the fame of which reached even to the gods.’
‘And have you heard of others, O king, who, even in their human body, mounted up to the blessed abode of the great Thirty-three?’
‘Yes, I have heard, too, of them.’
‘And who were they?’
‘Guttila the musician, and Sādhīna the king, and king Nimi, and king Mandhātā—these four. Long ago was it done, this glorious deed and difficult.’
‘But have you ever heard, O king, of the earth shaking, either now or in the past, and either once or twice or thrice, when a gift had been given?’
‘No, Sir, that I have not heard of.’
‘And I too, O king—though I have received the traditions, and been devoted to study, and to hearing the law, and to learning by heart, and to the acquirements of discipleship, and though I have been ready to learn, and to ask and to answer questions, and to sit at the feet of teachers—I too have never heard of such a thing, except only in the case of the splendid gift of Vessantara the glorious king. And between the times of Kassapa the Blessed One, and of the Blessed One the Sākya sage, there have rolled by hundreds of thousands of years, but in all that period I have heard of no such case. It is at no common effort, O king, at no ordinary struggle, that the great earth is moved. It is when overborne by the weight of righteousness, overpowered by the burden of the goodness of acts which testify of absolute purity, that, unable to support it, the broad earth quakes and trembles and is moved. Then it is as when a wagon is overladen with a too heavy weight, and the nave and the spokes are split, and the axletree is broken in twain. Then it is as when the heavens, overspread with the waters of the tempest driven by the wind, and overweighted with the burden of the heaped-up rain-clouds, roar and creak and rage at the onset of the whirlwind. Thus was it, great king, that the broad earth, unable to support the unwonted burden of the heaped-up and wide-reaching force of king Vessantara’s largesse, quaked and trembled and was moved. For the heart of king Vessantara was not turned in the way of lust, nor of ill-will, nor of dullness, nor of pride, nor of delusion, nor of sin, nor of disputation, nor of discontent, but it was turned mightily to generosity. And thinking: “Let all those who want, and who have not yet come, now arrive! Let all who come receive whate’er they want, and be filled with satisfaction!” it was on giving, ever and without end, that his mind was set. And on these ten conditions of heart, O king, was his mind too fixed—on self-control, and on inward calm, and on long-suffering, and on self-restraint, and on temperance, and on voluntary subjugation to meritorious vows, and on freedom from all forms of wrath and cruelty, and on truthfulness, and on purity of heart. He had abandoned, O king, all seeking after the satisfaction of his animal lusts, he had overcome all craving after a future life, his strenuous effort was set only towards the higher life. He had given up, O king, the caring for himself, and devoted himself thenceforth to caring for others alone. His mind was fixed immovably on the thought: “How can I make all beings to be at peace, healthy, and wealthy, and long lived?” And when, O king, he was giving things away, he gave not for the sake of rebirth in any glorious state, he gave not for the sake of wealth, nor of receiving gifts in return, nor of flattery, nor of long life for himself, nor of high birth, nor of happiness, nor of power, nor of fame, nor of offspring either of daughters or of sons—but it was for the sake of supreme wisdom and of the treasure thereof that he gave gifts so immense, so immeasurable, so unsurpassed. It was when he had attained to that supreme wisdom that he uttered the verse:

“Jāli, my son, and the Black Antelope,
My daughter, and my queen, my wife, Maddī,
I gave them all away without a thought—
And ‘twas for Buddhahood I did this thing.”’

‘The angry man, O king, did the great king Vessantara conquer by mildness, and the wicked man by goodness, and the covetous by generosity, and the speaker of falsehood by truth, and all evil did he overcome by righteousness. When he was thus giving away—he who was seeking after righteousness, who had made righteousness his aim—then were the great winds, on which the earth rests below, agitated by the full force of the power of the influence that resulted from his generosity, and little by little, one by one, the great winds began to blow confusedly, and up and down and towards each side the earth swayed, and the mighty trees rooted in the soil began to totter, and masses of cloud were heaped together in the sky, and terrible winds arose laden with dust, and the heavens rushed together, and hurricanes blew with violent blasts, and a great and terrible mighty noise was given forth. And at the raging of those winds, the waters little by little began to move, and at the movement of the waters the great fish and the scaly creatures were disturbed, and the waves began to roll in double breakers, and the beings that dwell in the waters were seized with fear and as the breakers rushed together in pairs the roar of the ocean grew loud, and the spray was lashed into fury, and garlands of foam arose, and the great ocean opened to its depths, and the waters rushed hither and thither, the furious crests of their waves meeting this way and that; and the Asuras, and Garuḷas, and Yakkhas, and Nāgas shook with fear, and thought in their alarm: “What now! How now! is the great ocean being turned upside down? “ and sought, with terrified hearts, for a way of escape. And as the water on which it rests was troubled and agitated, then the broad earth began to shake, and with it the mountain ranges and the ocean depths, and Sineru began to revolve, and its rocky mountain crest became twisted. And at the trembling of the earth, the serpents, and mungooses, and cats, and jackals, and boars, and deer, and birds became greatly distressed, and the Yakkhas of inferior power wept, while those of greater power were merry.
‘Just, O king, as when a huge and mighty cauldron, full of water and crowded with grains of rice, is placed over a fireplace, then the fire burning beneath heats first of all the cauldron, and when that has become hot the water begins to boil, and as the water boils the grains of rice are heated and dive hither and thither in the water, and a mass of bubbles arises, and a garland of foam is formed—just so, O king, king Vessantara gave away whatsoever is in the world considered most difficult to bestow, and by reason of the nature of his generosity the great winds beneath were unable to refrain from being agitated throughout, and on the great winds being thrown into confusion the waters were shaken, and on the waters being disturbed the broad earth trembled, and so then the winds and the waters and the earth became all three, as it were, of one accord by the immense and powerful influence that resulted from that mighty giving. And there was never another giving, O king, which had such power as that generosity of the great king Vessantara.
‘And just, O king, as there are many gems of value found in the earth—the sapphire, and the great sapphire, and the wish-conferring gem, and the cat’s eye, and the flax gem, and the Acacia gem, and the entrancing gem, and the favourite of the sun, and the favourite of the moon, and the crystal, and the kajjopakkamaka, and the topaz, and the ruby, and the Masāra stone —but the glorious gem of the king of kings is acknowledged to be the chief of all these and surpassing all, for the sheen of that jewel, O king, spreads round about for a league on every side —just so, O king, of all the gifts that have ever been given upon earth, even the greatest and the most unsurpassed, that giving of the good king Vessantara is acknowledged to surpass them all. And it was on the giving of that gift, O king, that the broad earth shook seven times.’
‘A marvellous thing is it, Nāgasena, of the Buddhas, and a most wonderful, that the Tathāgata even when a Bodisat (in the course of becoming a Buddha) was so unequalled in the world, so mild, so kind, and held before him aims so high, and endeavours so grand. You have made evident, Nāgasena, the might of the Bodisats, a most clear light have you cast upon the perfection of the Conquerors, you have shown how, in the whole world of gods and men, a Tathāgata, as he continues the practice of his noble life, is the highest and the best. Well spoken, venerable Nāgasena. The doctrine of the Conqueror has been exalted, the perfection of the Conqueror has been glorified, the knot of the arguments of the adversaries has been unravelled, the jar of the theories of the opponents has been broken in pieces, the dilemma so profound has been made clear, the jungle has been turned into open country, the children of the Conqueror have received the desire of their hearts. It is so, as you say, O best of the leaders of schools, and I accept that which you have said!’
Here ends the dilemma as to the earthquake at Vessantara’s gift.